5 February 2008. Sun, maybe even a warm afternoon? Coffee glass spills everywhere on stove, phone missing somewhere, insistent woman in background now with unnecessarily detailed queries on electronic transmission. Voting day--the poll room door is closed. Pharmacy shut till nine. Etc.
But in the course of things...
Nathaniel's four paintings, arrayed on the wall. One suggestive, after Courbet, another idyllic--"figures in a dream." Another from the past, remembered with help of snapshot, and the last a row of abstract trees on wavy grain of clear plywood--perhaps the most naked of all. Four ways of telling, four moods, four kinds of experience, variety, belief, even. Engaging, the looking. "I like to see the paintings up close." Until something--everything--comes into focus...
Note from Dick, serious, but on the mend. Later, one from Kit, read late in the evening, after class.
Our animals, asleep in the rain...
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