103. Room
How we make space to be filled. In defiance of tendinitis, ink on paper for a show in LA, waiting for light boxes. Pears from a barrel.
I ate dinner at an outdoor table the other night. It was probably the last time this year that I’ll do so with bare shoulders. Late afternoon heat smoothed into evening, just that side of balmy. There was a continuous breeze. It would diminish at times to almost nothing before growing and waning again, seemingly without end. Summer i…