The storefront  psychic pinned me against the back of the quilted chair with her glaring Eye, “Three!”  she cried, “Trin!”  one small hand gripping my forearm, the other raised above her head, “TELL me what it is!’ she implored, and for a moment I thought she was asking me.  Then I realized, she was seeing and saying, in an accent that drains out the bottom of my listener, unidentifiable, even unclassifiable, but one that is good for mumbling to oneself, with long flat a’s and versions of “sh” we don’t have in English.  I asked her what her first language was, and she looked directly at me.  I saw myself upside down in her mirrored eyes, and she said, ‘Nobody knows’

barefoot back in the studio room, blinking at the walls, wanting to squeeze the inquiry through india ink and a 4” brush, directly on the wall behind my chair, i draw a horizontal line, i paint it with an ink-fat brush, a line on the wall like a chair rail, like a time line, like one of those self help workshop exercises. ‘What’s it dividing?!’ I pant at Muse, thrilled to receive such unequivocal instructions for once in a very long while, ‘What’s the line, What’s the next mark?!’ huff huff, I wait, brush in hand, and then I hear it: the empty room I am standing barefoot in, brush in hand, work in progress.

Objects, i’m making objects, i’m installing objects, including tomorrow.  I give myself the gypsy’s eye, every moment is now, sissy. Every moment.

I go to my lenses, my magnifying glasses, the jeweler’s loop on the ribbon wire. There will have to be a table setup for the next investigation, lenses and optics stationed in space,

The practical way I executed this day doomed it to feeling choppy, shallow, disjointed, I planned ridiculously inefficient routes and appointments all so I could sit in my studio not once but twice on this day.  I get the message, everything I have and am now is everything I have and am.  Fortunately you either have peace or not, there is no rookie status.   Unfortunately the pacing still takes the same amount of time.  I can’t pretend to suffer.  I tried for one thing, and got it.

We install tomorrow, I tell everybody, everybody wake up, I run down the grassy hill to the lowland area where most of the circus pitched for the summer, ‘Hop up!’ I holler, Flood!, I want to cry out, but who wants to anger even minor deities who have to work otherwise, like this?  And so i just repeat myself, ‘Hop up!’

Desire and

Invisiglass

Microfiber and newsprint

Baling wire

Screen details

Lenses mirrors etc

Pliers

Blue tape

The 2 supplies

Apron

Gloves

Binding wire

soldering setup and shrink

I don’t want you should name it

I reach for Opticks again, the hardback cover had lain open to FIG. 8. with the eyeball drawnwhichi irealize indicates what part of the prism to look through. That’s the problem with reading. Which i, which i, which drawn i?

my head a-whirl with half-thought projects,

so much slier than me, indeed the camera takes a picture of distance, and distance is what the camera brings closer.  make everything and watch the work get built, how can I be so slow?  The three (illegible), of course.