With a new day comes a new heat. Today they (I will leave them unnamed) work on the septic tank. Seems a flaw in design or installation has caused an unneccessary burden on the system. The country life brings different issues and sometimes more complex issues because of the lack of resources.
I ran this morning on the treadmill. I haven't been on it for a while. It was nice to revisit that space. It was like an old friend. In all honesty, I haven't run much at all since the Bolder Boulder. I broke training in a big way, I suppose. But working on the steps has helped me keep a certain level of fitness, a form of strength training, if you will.
It's supposed to be hot all week. The day is starting that way. That's what drove me inside to run. There is that summer haze in the air. Familiar and yet, what causes a haze in the desert? Perhaps it is what's left over from the winds of the past few days. Fortunately, the heat has started later this year. I am trying to be more accepting overall, so I will try to be more accepting of the heat. Open yourself to see what it has to offer. If nothing else, perhaps a deeper appreciation of the cool.
I wanted to paint poetry. Seemed like a noble enough ambition. The problem was I didn't know where to begin. I had often heard paintings referred to as visual poetry. I just wasn't convinced I had really ever seen such. Oh, there were glimpses, I suppose, but mostly in work that did not claim to be anything more than it was. Maybe that was part of the answer on how to proceed.
Pat Greenwell is an artist. A painter and sometimes poet, he has been searching the New Mexico desert for several years now, looking for lost possibilities and probable intentions.
"...mostly stream-of-consciousness stuff, you know...