The trees around the pond aren’t bare, the view has totally changed. The transitions that happen between the seasons are subtle, elusive, and suddenly hit you all at once it you aren’t careful (or so busy at work you find yourself surprised as if overnight the algae on the pond bloomed, the turtles have unearthed themselves and are sunbathing and the light, having grown longer, reaches through the translucent green of new leaves, almost blinding you when you start driving home at the end of the day).
Last Wednesday, RP and I celebrated the opening of our exhibition as the Buttonwood Tree is downtown Middletown. This event was kind of sneaky the way spring tends to be, and all the work of preparation was suddenly upon us and felt like a distraction from our work on Love in the TIme of War. But alas, it all proved to be worth it when we got to put everything up on the wall and share it with people that have supported this project from the very beginning. It was a great way to stop and look back, and think about everything that has happened creatively over the past year, and begin to move forward with the process of winding my time here at the Mill down. The whole process has given me new focus.
Look out Metro North Railroad.
And here is the book as it stands—a tall pile of dyed silk, freshly trimmed and ready for printing! That stack represents all the hours of October, November, December, January, February, March, April and May 1-10.