September 19, 2024

Odd that I often dream of painting but never (that I remember) of writing. Last night I’d finished a giant abstract canvas and stood back admiring it. Somebody I knew came in and asked if he could use my space for a show of just one painting, and I said yes. The painting was exactly the size of mine, and he hung it right against mine. When people entered for the show, they began painting over my work, improvising something harmonious with my friend’s, and inspired by it. I believe I actually started it, adding a stroke of pale blue to my work as people watched. I didn’t expect them to join in. I didn’t expect obliteration.

Pagers and walkie-talkies blowing up in hands and pockets in Lebanon. The inventiveness of evil never flags.