I’m thinking about water. Water falls – either river or rain – speak a whole spectrum of the Language of Wet, from soft drip & trickle to pounding slam-hard powerful. I’ve come to believe that all are profoundly healing in the long run – even Tsunami, Hurricane, Cyclone. Sometimes tragically so, painfully so – but … More The Call of Water
We were in my studio where almost every inch of wall, floor table and shelf is crammed with stuff in process and use, with tools, & paint & vine charcoal & buttons & books & thread & blank paper & other paper covered with notes or ideas or solo, duet, trio, quartet or orchestral music. … More How do you know?
Even the loud old fridge is drowned out by straight-down-rain. Not sheets and thunder and driving – but a rain that will drench us for days, soaking the soil, swelling the creeks, rising the shoreline of Georgian Bay above the sad sorry rocks that appeared this spring, covering their nakedness once again. It is 12 … More The deep rain