January 27, 2010

Got to the studio and painted seriously, which has given the day a feel of accomplishment. Cold in the studio, the breath coming visibly between the lips and the canvas, but one forgets the cold after a few moments of immersion.

Dick Blick Art Supplies sends 31 tubes of greenish umber. I ordered one. I phone to complain and the lady says, “Well, that’s what it says here on your order, 31 tubes.” She puts up a brief resistence, but my theory of a mistyping prevailed in the face of the idiocy of 31 tubes of greenish umber.

Probed around in my journals to discover when it was I started painting. It was November, 1991. I had just been jilted by Carol J, I was broke and duns called six times an hour. Then one night I stayed up and pained three views of a planet I called Celemene, and her three moons. I lined the paintings up on the mantel and looked at them for two solid hours. I am still, sort of, painting Celemene and her three moons.

Sometimes I am lured into looking at old journals. It is always a mistake. I back away whispering, My God, I have never been at home.