January 2, 2023

The homeless have built temporary shelters in the grocery parking lot under my hill. It looks terrible, but what can one say against shelter for the shelterless? 

Did some writing, did some housecleaning, then drove down to Foundry Street to discover for myself the vast art and antiques and home furnishings establishments. Bought a stilted wooden box I didn’t need (What do I need?) Several of the establishments are the sort that you can rent space in, sometimes as little as a wall or a panel on the wall, and one of these days, if I keep painting, I will have to consider this. Gone are the days when I will attempt a whole gallery, or even a whole studio. Painting at home is so much better for me than painting at a studio that I will continue it until issues of size or volume intervene. Some familiar faces at the art warehouse, particularly O, who tried to sell his weary portraits at Urthona thirty years ago, and is trying to sell them– unchanged, unimproved–to this day. There must have been some encouragement along the way. It would be difficult not to look like a handful of confetti thrown in the midst of such ungoverned variety. 

William Byrd lullaby suddenly on the airwaves. An instant ravishment.