December 20, 2023

Darkening toward the Solstice.

Went to Marquee on Foundry Street to see if my application for a space has gained traction. R, the owner, didn’t seem to think that my work would be a good fit there. He didn’t say that, but, if I interpreted correctly, it was the vibe he gave out. In any case, no spaces were open– so he said–and I’ll be contacted when there are. Or not. I argued to myself that there were plenty weirder productions than mine. The space isn’t right for me, being just one step up from one of those tacky antiques malls where every redneck rents a stall, but I’m not sure what else to do. It’s a small commitment and small expenditure, so I hope it happens, if only to thin out the mass of artwork gathering in my attic. My gifts, though in some ways considerable, have never been especially crowd pleasing. I write books nobody wants to read, plays that nobody wants to see, paint paintings that only very peculiar people would want on their walls. I think of turning my energies to more poplar ways of doing things, but that would be worse, especially if it didn’t work. 

Lunch at Twelve Bones in cold, clear winter light. Most restaurant servings are too large for me these days. 

Massive restructuring of my portfolio.

Last night sitting in my living room and at times today I realized that I was happy, the happiness an underlying harmony that specific things being wrong did not compromise.