Out in the middle of nowhere, we stopped at a general store, but they didn't have any coffee.

Preparing for a show tedious yet satisfactory.
The opportunity to stand back from what I have created.
To look at things cumulatively.
An ego feeding exercise,
but in the stepping away from the routine of painting in the studio,
the daily habit of it is broken.
Sometimes it is hard to get back.
The blank canvas not approachable,
Threatening.
The sketchbook assuming the aura
of a stack of unopened and unpaid bills.

Sid looked up from his laptop.
"Eric says hello," he said.

"huh?"

Via email he explained. "We could communicate this way," he said a few days ago.

(Why?) Unspoken was how long he would stay.
When he would go back to San Francisco.
If/when I would go with him.


something about her
 
 
  
about this work | begin again | Dorothy Abrona McCrae | Judy Malloy |