I’ve got a lot to do in the next few months, no doubt about it.
I’m moving from occupying the whole Ranch to having a small three-room apartment at the end; this will be very nice, and much more manageable for the next couple of years, but it’s also real work to get smaller. It makes me wish I’d been smart enough to never get bigger.
I have to decide about things.
I’m going through all of my books and magazines, and making up a couple of boxes to share. Same with everything left in my studio; I have relics from everything I’ve ever done, and while it’s fun to have a whole room full of art supplies, I’m not sure it’s pertinent anymore. I have an entire bin full of black velvet jewelry displays. I can’t imagine doing a show again.
Everything I’m doing now seems to be about sorting through my stuff, my preconceptions, my life experience, my heart, my head. It’s unexpectedly intense.
I had two strong feelings last night, working on Jack Wisdom’s entry to the Love Letters introductions.
One: Jack Wisdom speaking to me about his work is like me having a meeting with the birds in the yard to talk about the connection between nectar and diabetes.
His motivation for spending time with me is as obscure as mine in reasoning with a finch. Yet… we must each get something out of it. The sum of that value will have to be a calculation made later; I have a feeling that the time and interest given to me by the suite of extraordinary people in my life may yet bear fruit than none of us can predict. Nothing else makes sense; nature is thrifty with motion, as is Jack.
Two: If I connect the dots of my life, they make a picture, and I won’t get to see what it is until I finish the work. Do you remember the puzzles that used to be in the paper, or our schoolbooks, where we would solve math problems, and the answer to each problem would be a single number that would correspond to a point in a grid? As you solved each problem, you drew another straight line between the point you just solved and the previous one.
The lines, if you got all of the problems right, formed a picture. An elephant, a fishing shack.
I can see many different ways of connecting things up; but in this case, each problem is fluid; I’m going to need a lot of backs of envelopes, or shirt cardboards, or a roll of paper towels to write on.