September 2016

	The forecast calls for circular and spherical improvisations to continue into September.
9.1.2016

9.2.2016

9.3.2016

9.4.2016

I stood in front of the shag bark hickory, the one whose presence I always sense, the one I talk to and listen to, and it seemed especially alive tonight. I thought about what Christopher Alexander wrote about art being a living thing and how this tree was really and truly alive and right there with me and I thought about how it was connected to all the plants around and I had a moment of grandeur where I hoped the plants would help me get stuff and then I laughed and said to the tree. "I love you," very sincerely because I do love that tree and it seemed even more alive and said back to me, "Why are you moving so fast?" I stood there a moment or two in silence loving the tree and then moved toward the barn and the tree despaired creating in my mind an image of a wispy shadow - how I must appear to a tree that stands in the same place year after year.

9.5.2016

	Push on the edges so you don't get stuck in one place.
9.6.2016

9.7.2016

	Whirlwind roundtrip
9.8.2016

9.9.2016

9.10.2016

9.11.2016

	Phase transition
9.12.2016

9.13.2016

	Building travel frames, artworks going to the city on Friday, opening next Thursday, the amount of lumber being cut for large pieces seems overwhelming, staying with my breath and removing one obstacle at a time.
9.14.2016

9.15.2016

	Figure ground reversals
9.16.2016

9.17.2016

9.18.2016

9.19.2016

9.20.2016

	Hanging out at the gallery, installing work, finishing details for tomorrow's opening, drinking coffee, chatting with friends, and getting very excited, I made this little sketch - seems like things are about to overflow.
9.21.2016

9.22.2016

	Searching for a path back to the studio.
9.23.2016

9.24.2016

9.25.2016

9.26.2016

9.27.2016

	Pre-travel anxiety is present.
9.28.2016