If a blog is published and no one sees it, does it really exist? Zen koan for the night. I sit here in the late evening darkness, three stories up, window open, listening to the faint sound of rain which reaches a crescendo with each passing car. I have lived here for two years, at eye level with two church steeples, and I still marvel at my luck to have finally found my ivory tower.
Forty-three stairs up from the narrow street, two rooms, ten-foot ceilings, Navajo white walls, flooded with three tall windows, all facing north. Gentle north light during the day and celestial images at night.
I am surrounded by overdue homework for my latest online art class, half-read artist biographies on my bedside table, and the usual household rubble that comes from living alone and rarely having visitors. I am content, even happy most days.
This blog already feels like a book in installments, perhaps a heartfelt thank you note to those who have shared bits of the path with me along the way. You will meet them as inspiration leads me down each of those trails. It is enough that I have launched this project— the writing is easy, navigating WordPress a bit challenging. We shall see where it all leads.
(In case you’re curious: Stillman & Birn Beta Sketchbook)