Found Arrangement, 2020, Archival Digital Print
Everywhere are arrangements to be seen and noticed.
An extraneous proof of a new print
A window, a view into another world
The edge of a paper cabinet
A perfect rectangle
A favorite book and
Always the plugs
Inside a hermit
though always connected
to the juice.
The Studio and The Moon, 2020, Archival Digital Print
We are deep now in the pandemic, many of us straddling two domains. There’s the world of our isolated lives and the world of the media. Our personal lives can be anything depending on circumstances, ingenuity, curiosity and the ability to reflect and learn, whereas our media life is filled with death and suffering and the continual sideshow. Hope now must be self generated. Learning about the people we’ve elected is sobering. I have concluded that many in Congress are marginal and ignorant. Perhaps this explains why they don’t understand the basic tenets of science and stand instead as beacons of ignorance. This governor of Florida looks like he would have been incapable of success in any other business he tried. Poor fellow, politics was probably the only home he could find that paid his bills. As to Trump, lugging a long record of failure behind him, only politics was available to him. At least he has been consistent.
One of the gifts this time has given us is the chance to remember and reflect. We have gotten in touch with people we forgot about or had a spat with and the reconnecting feels good and mends. This reminder of last chances and wanting to have a settled heart has been a benefit of this scourge.
The land is ever filled with beauty and solace. The moon shines down on my studio. The coyotes howl. The deep winter is on the doorstep. And, at least for today, I am safe.
I hope you, Dear Reader, are too.