A collection of recent

observations, gestures,

and moments that have

resonated with me:

 

 

 

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an arrangement of objects that serves as a Table of Contents for an essay I'm currently working on

Bill Callahan

reading Laguna Blues

by Charles Wright

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have been feeling inspired by buckwheat

The Minimalist Who Wasn't

Leslie Jamison on Donald Judd

But Judd’s work ended up feeling strangely suited to the constrictions of quarantine, which—among other things—heightened my awareness of my immediate surroundings. If Judd’s work was a lesson in finding plenitude in what I’d mistaken for scarcity, then quarantine was another version of this lesson: finding more richness than I’d believed possible in this stripped-down life.

This series of boxes started to remind me of our days: all the same in their contours and their constituent materials, but varying a bit in their particulars. During quarantine, robbed of any narrative arc, I considered with deepened urgency the possibilities of variation as a different form of scaffolding, another source of momentum. Our days had no story line anymore, only a series of subtle changes.

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