by Tim Girvin | Mar 22, 2011 | Diary
I was studying the different scratching on the surface of a wall — in a room that was covered with the graffito — Latin for “little scratching” — of hundreds of people. Except that they didn’t only write on the wall, but incise...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 21, 2011 | Diary
Being at the DIA | Beacon, NY, up the Hudson, there are a series of installations by some of the greatest artists on the planet — classical emplacements involving the highest theories of each, a kind of portfolio of perfected legends. Those that are still...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 20, 2011 | Diary
After the long running, days on daze of grim light, the proverbial oyster shell coloration of the Pacific Northwest wintering, low rolling clouds, the Sun merely a fuzzy luminescence. Today, for a moment, a turning to spring, sprung — that first evidence came to...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 18, 2011 | Diary
Rummaging for a hat, the other day, I found an old baseball cap that I’d given my daughter. She never liked it, though I thought she’d like the pug-like expression of the front panel. But didn’t. I think it might’ve been the coloration, which...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 12, 2011 | Diary
THE CIRCLED WIND I went out in the early dark this morning, in the storm. Wind, rain, cold whipped round — circling. And I stood in the center of the storm. I dreamed of that, the wind, the circling. And I could taste the wet, the salt of the sea That turned in...
