more ruminations, notably ideas for official portraits that distill the personage down to a gray memory, a phantom in his (usually) robes - though a reminder that an institution's past included well fed individuals with sometimes odd facial hair. Detachable collars ; attachable glasses ; hair affixed ; buttons emblazoned ; nasal passaged ; root canaled - time pieces throbbing away in their pantaloons : their last hours, heaving in a hot dark room on a damp soft bed, while a parson intones bromides of salvation and the familial mass ululates multiform incantations of the numinous as they finger a mint in their pockets.
More photos from the Cayman Islands: Collier Beach. I could just live here. Maybe not forever but I would like to experiment for a month. There is a little hotel resort just up the road but an air bnb could work as well. I know my friends would put up with us for a while - but a month would be too much. I wish I could bring my oils and canvases down. Just to see how long it would take to get bored with this place - or if that were possible.
When I think about it. I would like to be out here painting under a canopy (can't get too burned and there are rains); taking an occasional snorkle - practice getting better, being in the water over my head. My neck, four months post surgery and after three months physical therapy, is much better. I'm stronger there than in some time. And PT along with yoga has my body moving in more correct ways. Is it possible the rest of my life could be about unloosening all the things that the last 35 years have be tightening. Yes, I'm not counting years before age 20.
