19 August 2009. Beautiful gray morning, scant car or two up and down San Pablo, dawn. Studio light, early. Reading of work in the California woods...a set of tools laid out just so on open ground. Sabina. Draw knife, axe, branch cutter, slege--tools for labor of an intensive sort, carried on in solitude. Solitude and sweat, no doubt--the single ladder moved from spot to spot, the domestic squabbles and re-sitings, new layers of granite skirt to accomodate--all in the lived moment, later in thought. Unable to speak for months after, as if to hide--but no, a matter of patient waiting, till all comes pouring forth...
In one sweep, like Gauguin's wave on the Tahitian beach, long ago--lithe figures on horseback, another sort of accomodation--beauty in the fit.
Building...always building...
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