On my walk toward the trolley stop after the first day of class, I noticed the shadow on City Hall of the Marriot, where I stayed last summer. High above I could see my beloved caryatids that were eye level back then. The bottom photos are of tape markers on the floor that help painters return their easels to the correct spot after a break.
Writing feels creaky these days. Post graduate school, I find the words stack like concrete blocks, instead of flowing like waves. "My attendance at Studio Incamminati enabled me to engage in a meaningful occupation," I start to say.
Is it okay to say that I loved it, and it was really really great?
"Yes," says the Muse, "It is safe to dance on your own page..."
1 comment:
I'm so glad your back to regularly posting on your blog, its a treat for the eyes to see your work and i always enjoy your writing.
it makes sense that an artist would have to mark off their spot if they wanted to return to it the next day, i just never thought about it before, thanks for educating me.
Tara
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