When I realized that I had captured a bad memory in the large shadowbox/frame that I intended to house the artwork to commemorate my commercial certificate I took it out from behind the glass and very carefully shaved the edges off until it fit in my notebook. All the guys really liked seeing it and after the discussion on the prop I see how to improve on it ... so I am happy that it is becoming incorporated rather than enshrined. I hung the empty frame back up. Last night I dreamed of what I am excited about drawing and painting to put in the frame. It's hard to describe, but I'll try. I looked through a window (like a frame), and saw a very beautiful time piece, rather the circular housing with the winding piece/knob. The face, hands and numbers were missing; which for me signified a journey without the constraints of arriving at a place on time ... it's not a race, it's just a run. I like to race because I like to win. I set up little races for myself against my best time guesstimate ... I put the pressure on myself. Over time I have forgotten how much fun it is to just run ... or walk ... feeling the breeze on my face and smelling the pine needles or the salty air. I have forgotten (as up i grew down i remembered*) that I believe life is a journey and not a destination. The destination is where the journey completes and I think there are many one foot in front of the other moments between here and there. That is what I am really good at. I am good at moving forward towards things hoped for yet unseen.
Back to the art - inside the housing between 12 and about 4:30 was very delicate lovely scrolling vine - etched within the simple tendrils. The vine begin outside the picture and wound around until a tiny part of it was wrapped inside the housing. Words and phrases were written on the vine ... parts of memories, turn heading...what are you aiming for ... it's really about managing the energy ... pitch pitch roll ... where are the winds from ... 28 psi ... words like those. It was fairly monochromatic, straight forward and uncluttered. I think I can remember it and I think I can translate it on to paper.
For today - I am relieved that I can bleach grout and restack food storage containers with their lids. I am looking forward to vacumning window sills and rounding up dust bunnies.
*anyone lived in a pretty how town
~ E. E. Cummings
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
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