Day 10 — the fog clings moistly this morning
i am afraid the sun will not burn through, the leaves are laden with moisture. The slightest breeze sends a cascade of liquid crystals spilling down. The air clings thickly with the a barely audiable chill.0
My fellow I-Park artists in residence
Lalie Douglas Jeannie Harkleroad Anthony Ingrisano Shireen Madon, poet Nathaniel Sullivan0
Day 6 — flowing
To about twelve feet. Will need help to hoist it higher into the tree. This is not it’s home, just work space in the shade. It us headed for a forest glade.0
Day 5 — same sweet spot for sunset as sunrise
my spot. Though they have a chef who prepares our dinner, tonight is self serve. So I sautéed up some fresh veggies with fresh garlic. Now that is art.0
Day 5 — midday
this will grow… into something like these except… they’ll be about twenty feet in height minus the green frames and in their place fresh sticks held together by wooden dowels and wood glue (hope it holds)!0
Day 4 — perhaps morning writing will become a habit again
hmmm. well nature does seem to have a tendency to repeat herself. alrighty then.0
