Today there is just not that much to say. I'm just out of words worth saying, which I guess helps me understand how Sweet M feels much of the time.
Here in New York City it was hot and sticky and I was out and about in the heat for a little longer than really works well for me. The highlight of the out and about time was our girl's middle school art show.
She'd made this unusual painting in that it is layer upon layer of paint. Her art teacher told me that for the entire five weeks that she worked on it, that she had it on the other angle -- horizontal -- and then, when she was finishing it, she turned it vertical, signed it, and said it was done.
The solar system, the eye ball, the entry down the birth canal, who knows? It's probably not representational at all. I think she's a painter's painter. Hopefully tomorrow I'll be back to being a writer, even if not a writer's writer.