Circle, Circle Back

Finished pieces in the shop.

T finished up 38 pieces of art for a show that opens Friday. We delivered everything on Sunday. It’s a really great body of work that’s been underway for most of the past six months. She was quite the dynamo in a fit of creative fervor.

I’ll post more updates here of the opening and the final gallery space over the coming weeks.

Here’s a blog post she just published of some background. Since the onset of COVID, when we had a lot of time and nowhere to go, she cut nearly 10,000 circles of paper. By hand. Some of those are now included in four pieces in the show.

We had a nice trip over the mountain to Staunton, one of our favorite nearby towns. And a very nice gallery space, too. They’ve posted info about the show here, featuring some of T’s work in the poster:

https://www.saartcenter.org/cut-up-and-put-together

The gallery space, ready for hanging.
Lunchspot in Staunton

Crossing Over

The outboard on the skiff died, the one that ferries us over. Her father, the waterman, boat builder, sawmiller, got it running again.

“Go on over,” he said around a cigarette, “if you get stuck I’ll come get ya. “

She took our old friends across the marsh. I followed behind, paddling against the breeze that rattled through the sawgrass

Trees Dancing with the Moon

The moon was full and bright last night. From the porch I could see it clearly through the trees for the first time since last Spring.

In the morning the maples had dropped all their leaves, now piled around their ankles like crimson silk slips or night gowns, bare arms outstretched to the sky.

I’m sure the moon had something to do with it.

Yesterday and today were in the 80s, and the wind blew all day. By afternoon the color was gone, dry leaves swirling across the lawn into eddies on porches and shrubs.

Tomorrow it will get down into the low 20s, first hard freeze of the season. One last hurrah before winter.

Light Harmonies

Got out for a bit, change of scenery.

Heard a poet singing to a park of children and tent homes,
from the hole where the hearse wasn’t, at a funeral home.

A nice place to watch the slow turn of celestial spheres.