i sit on a marble curb in washington park, waiting for a wireless signal. i discovered one that comes in on the wind now and then. a stolen connection. but i have become tired of having to buy something everytime i want to check my email.
the sun is out, but i found a spot shaded by a big maple tree. i look down at my feet and study the debris closely , leaves, cardboard from a chocolate bar, clear plastic wrappers, cigarette butts, twigs, a piece of glass.
what if you could only make art out of what you found on the street? in a way i already do. i put the pieces together in my mind, combing textures, piling things on top of each other, contrasting colors.
i listen to the sounds of my new surroundings, (new thoughts about sound were inspired by an article by Pauline Oliveros that my husband quoted to me this morning over breakfast. She founded a movement called ‘deep listening’. and i make a note to see if i can audit her class.)
trees moving in the breeze, the distant hum of cars, the typing on my keyboard, the tick of a bike coasting quickly, birds. it has been a while since I’ve spent a summer in a city environment. i had forgotten the sounds.
my head is jumbled with all of the things i think i should be doing right now. work on the book projects. i will get to it soon. what i want to do is read about eva hesse, and the writings of john cage which i just ordered. or ride my bike to the woods. i hope the summer does not pass me by unnoticed. too much time spent doing, not enough being.
the jasmine tea sits cold in my purple mug.