Rain all day here, with more predicted for tonight. Had it been snow we’d be wallowing and plowing through a foot of it. The ground is mostly bare, the woods dark and foggy, and streams are rushing. I was able to spend an hour spading open a ditch to relieve the flow that has led to glaciation of my driveway. It occurred to me more starkly than ever before that I love this weather. And then I felt a stab of guilt. People suffer because of floods – perhaps one shouldn’t enjoy flood time so much. And so I comfort myself, thinking: Everyone is filled with joy when the sun is beaming from blue skies, and thousands are accruing the exposure that will develop into melanomas. Back to lovin’ it. Hope the hill doesn’t slide down on me.
I think one more brushstroke will finish the painting. Titling is harder than painting.
Re-worked a painting I’d been dissatisfied with for 15 years, (yes, it was hanging in my kitchen every day). Resumed work on an old, very meager sketch and painted it up, then worked up a painting from scratch. I gifted them out and relationships seem none the worse for it. Here they are, chronologically as above, all 8″x 10″:
“The Split Second”, graphite,oil, ink and acrylic on canvas
“dogthink”, Acrylic on canvasboard
“Prayer”, Graphite and acrylic on canvasboard
Here’s a copy and paste from a Facebook post. Not quite Shakespearean, but a satisfying rant:
I’ve had a couple days now to process the most memorable moment of my 101 mile bike ride on Friday. About 90 miles in I was southbound at the old Bundy’s gravel pit on co. Rt 23 between Sherb 4 and n. Norwich. A huge red dump truck rolled up to pull out of the driveway, then stopped to let me pass. After I passed he (just a guess) pulled out and accelerated to a position about 8 feet behind me. I was on the edge of the pavement and so was he, directly lined up to run over me. Wide open 2 lanes, no oncoming traffic. He then LAID on the air horn and swung around me, driving me into the gravel and missing me by about 3 feet. Too scared and rattled (and tired) to get a license#. Red truck, and I’d be willing to go $100 I could smell Trump stink coming out of the cab. Intolerance and bullying abuse of any and all who don’t conform 100% to their puny lifestyle. Fuck you. Sharpen up your rebel flag staff and drive it into your skull. Let the Klan culture drip out so the flies can get at it.
Another wondrous achievement. But between MIT and Cal-Tech they couldn’t find someone to write it up without using “incomprehensively” in the 3rd to last paragraph: