BY NOON

HOME PLATE / 38x46 (x2) / MIXED MEDIA ON CANVAS / PRIVATE COMMISSION

The tallest man was nine feet tall, the smallest worm less than an inch. To be down here, alive and thriving. To make this whole thing work.

I sent these pieces off to a Midwestern collector this week. Set to arrive sometime on Tuesday, I am imagining them tucked in tight in the back of a truck, somewhere out there on the 40. Creating custom commissions is another animal altogether. Unique in its need for pre-consideration - there’s someone waiting with an idea in mind, with a preferred palette and a wall. The fine line between my own artistic vision and the excited expectations of the client. I send off photos of the finished work with my fingers crossed and hold my breath until I hear back. She loves it! She loves it! (Thank God.)

The Library hosted an Earth Day afternoon on Tuesday and I wrote a collaborative poem with the people in my community. The sweet sincerity of these events is something I have learned to take seriously - when readers gather together, things get done! Best to show them some respect. I asked attendees to take a moment to toss a word into my basket so that I could build them a poem: mirror, everlasting, revival, giraffe, sunshine, blue water, big waves.

I am still learning the lay of this brand new land. Working with doctors on what’s going on. Some days are so painful I am pushed to the edge, other days offer more ease. I walk a lot - even when it hurts - because sitting still makes me unreasonable and restless. I wake up at dawn every day with no where to go and worry that my head won’t be able to handle it. But I’ve got painting and poetry and people to love. I have so many good places to put this.

It was sunny this morning, first thing, but the clouds came in quickly and any minute now we will have rain. So it goes.

Thanks for coming. Keep taking care. They say the sun will be back here by noon.

A.