More pictures from the parachute installation by Silas Finch.




Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place in the family of things.
A couple months ago Wilson broke one of my favorite glasses, one from a set of four with phrases by Jenny Holzer that I have always adored, long before I even knew the coolness of Jenny Holzer who projects words on cities, like in Providence a while back.
Anxiety about many things has kept me from being able to sleep through the night for several months. Since I cannot change the circumstances, I've become determined to adjust. One of these adjustments is reading books I've always wanted to read at 4am until I can fall asleep again. This has been kind of wonderful, as I've lamented not having the time to read for a very long time. I just finished The Hearing Trumpet, by Leonora Carrington, an English surrealist painter who hung out with Remedios Varo and Frida Kahlo in Mexico and thought a lot about alchemy and art and animal-headed people. Some of my favorite bits:
I went to my first gay wedding this weekend. The couple has been together for 17 years, but Connecticut just made same sex marriage legal a few months ago. It meant so much to them, and I think even more to their family, to perform this ceremony. It was the best wedding I've ever seen. And the cake was super cool.
A tight budget because of the building of our new theater this year caused me to have to take up the roll of costume designer and set designer for our holiday show, The Nutty Cracker Christmas Sweet. I've never done costuming. It is hard. In the end I was pretty happy, thanks to the unbelievable help of Margaret Carl.
This chair has been with my family for a long time. It was in every room I had when I was growing up and it had gotten very old and worn in my mom's house. She wanted to get rid of it for a new comfortable chair, and I had nowhere for it in my house. Of course I coerced her into keeping it, as is my nature. After a year of argument I accepted her creative compromise. She stripped it down to its skeleton, gave me a piece of the wonderful pink fabric, and we hauled the chair out to the edge of the woods behind her house, to rest between to maples. It looks suitably happy out there, and I'm glad to see it when I visit. 