8 December 2010. Berkeley rain, steady gray mist. Mo alone at counter, 7-eleven, looking to the side, out window onto wet street--scene from a film...
A drawing and a dance--elements follow, in balance. Or at least that's the hope--one dives in, Jacob and the angel--a struggle over the meaning of the divine (is that it?)--each time renewed. One line after the next, parts clamor for first place--now it's Samson and the lion--but that's much too grand. More Bonnard--a touch of light on a balustrade at a certain time of day. A bowl of peaches on a white table cloth, late afternoon...
These kinds of things...
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