22 February 2008. Same Day Service in pouring rain, orange and pale blue-green, holding their own against the gray, reflected even in darker windows alongside. Red Toyota pickup with long roll of black roofing felt, bungeed up over the cab. Precarious. Tiny birds against southern sky--two by two, shapes so characteristic, so invisible.
Sitting with Jeremy at white studio table, late afternoon. In the old Chinese way--album leaves and hand scrolls under warm incandescent light. My crusts of worn cardboard--skeins of washy color, deep and bland. A figure or two, in line of brush, picked out like the emperor Sung Hui-tsung, his narrow branch arching towards the sky, edges heightened here and there with even finer lines.
For birds, they always began with the eye...
A keening...
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