I’ve come back to Tucson for a few months to finish up the edits of the new CGB books, and to see to the Tucson house, the lizards, to spend time with the cat Miss Fish, who lives here in a paradise of vines and birds and huge soaring skies.
I’d still love to keep this place, and I hope I can work it out. I’ll find out soon.
Either way, I took advantage of my time away from town and took out all of the furniture and had the floors taken back to the original red concrete, which I should have done ten years ago. It’s almost finished now, and it’s really something to see the house as it was built; simple, open, clean, so many windows. I’ll photograph it when it’s finished, cleaned up.
I admit that I’m looking ahead to gentler days in the later summer, days when I have a little extra space and time, days when I know just a little more about the yet-unspooled part of my timeline.
It may seem as if I’ve dropped off of the face of the Earth, but I’m here, working, as I have been for 6 years now, staring straight at triangles and hypars and at the challenges of people working together in imperfect systems, finding their way on a living, shifting fabric of society and planet.
I’ve come to realize that most things are a fuckshow if you look too closely, but then if you look even closer, you can see that everything is beautiful too. Intensely, achingly beautiful, chaos and order, edges and energy. No matter at what level I examine this work, the patterns, the answers, the math, they all cross over.
I hope that I’m able to communicate that beauty and connection through whatever constraints apply at any given time; it’s my only goal.
So much connection, but so also much noise right now too.
The palo verde tree and all of the aloes are blooming now, and all of the world is tiny flowers.