Ambiguous light falls upon an unsuspecting hour. Memory, that silver star, refuses her curtain calls. I am enchanted by a spiral stairway— shadow play before and beneath it— and a single candle.
In mid-November, I started making block prints (e.g. linocuts). I had been drawing for two years as a kind of counterpart to my efforts in writing. Lately, I have been working on visual arts much more than my writing...
Always wrong. Get used to it. And use brings new ideas. Creation is always a relative matter of advancement. Lower costs mostly. But that's something. More time for thinking and being wrong.