It is true, I have run through the days, nights trying to understand. And I do not; reamed as I have been by loss, emptied Adrift, yet coping. Coping with all you left me, the good and the not. Today mowing, all that mowing, it hit: the best always will Be knowing you. Yet also the flip: the worst in my life is because I knew you, Knew and now here alone, I seek a new equilibrium to just Remember the best.
An interlude here spanning what was into what is: Good friends are here again and have their new silver home Parked in the drive. Interlude, the good times we four spent together. Interlude, the alone time I know well, so appreciate Interlude, time shared.
Staying here, staying here, I am doing it these days, staying here. Maybe the longest time since....and being here, it is clear I am alone. Alone because I am too tired to get up and go as I have been doing. Tired, so glad not to be driving, driving, tired but not able to do Much around here. Yet? Around here? Alone taked more time, efort and energy While only giving back so much. For now, am too tired to Change the equation.
The Studio at Line's End Farm is where I paint and try to find some joy again, and some equilibrium, not simple these days. One weblog records thoughts, ideas, methods and mixtures, palettes, observations, actually anything that intrigues me concerning my painting and working in the studio. Another observes only the horse in paintings that I find influential. The last are done for my sanity. All are my opinion only, open to other suggestions.
I will write in red, for my dear, love; who never saw red, not in ink, not in ire.
In 2010, the cold went beyond ten decades, was a century mark of hard winter through the mid-atlantic. For one small household banked by an Eastern Shore river this winter was epochal.