maggie in the front yard a couple of weekends ago
when it was warm,
me sitting in a child's chair next to her,
the aqua one,
the door reflecting back other chairs inside the house
i just like this,
like the smooshed together quality,
like the memory of the sun on my arms & neck
maggie staying close.
it's a very girly-looking picture,
the lattice work on one of the inside chairs
the pattern of the dry ground
also feminine & lacy,
the green grass in the corner
i'm not sure how much of all that I really saw
when I took the picture,
not sure how much i just sensed,
i wasn't surprised
i wasn't surprised
when i saw the image on the computer screen.
and that makes me smile,
that not being surprised,
but also the not knowing exactly,
because it's how i work a painting,
having an idea where it's going,
but letting it lead me also.
not seeing all the details
until the painting is finished
then saying yes, i remember making that line,
how perfect it is right there
how perfectly it reflects that other line.
from the movie sideways:
". . . it's a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the year the grapes were growing; how the sun was shining; if it rained. I like to think about all the people who tended and picked the grapes. And if it's an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve, like if I opened a bottle of wine today it would taste different than if I'd opened it on any other day, because a bottle of wine is actually alive. And it's constantly evolving and gaining complexity . . . "
that's my goal for my paintings,
for my photographs,
to have them stay alive,
to make you wonder what was going on
the year the paint was mixed,
the day the shutter clicked.
it's a biggie, i know.
but i want it.
i didn't know that until i began to write this.
and i also want to write.
i want it all.
shouldn't i have all of this & passionate kisses?