by Tim Girvin | Mar 1, 2011 | Diary
AND TURNS AGAIN. When a map becomes clear, there’s a path that could be drawn. It might not be for all to see. Others might — and some: never again. ––––– There is one sphere, made from crystals and ice and sand from millions of years back. I’d found...
by Tim Girvin | Feb 28, 2011 | Diary
THE LEGENDS OF THE LIGHT FINDER I was holding light, an illumination that reminded me of a salamander of the luminous, curling like an embryo — light lizard. This, on a full-mooned night, the radiance spilling down and lighting the stones like glistening...
by Tim Girvin | Feb 26, 2011 | Diary
THE PATH THAT TURNS, AND TURNS AGAIN. EVERY TIME, BACK TO A PLACE. In the blinding snow, the sun so bright that the trees are lit from beneath, it’s a brilliant day. Light filled. Out in the middle of no where, there is no way to go, but back to the center. And...
by Tim Girvin | Feb 23, 2011 | Diary
I was in the hospital recently, and walking the halls, I came to a series of glass compositions created by a friend of mine, from college. Cappy Thompson — Seattle glass artist; and she is still exploring and experimenting — the same, since our connections...
by Tim Girvin | Feb 22, 2011 | Diary
Last night, as I was on the shore, waiting for the night boat to come crossing, I was drawing in the dark, with light. Dawn was shooting these images, with the full moon behind, and the character of these strokes of light, a kind of light calligraphy, in the fore...
