by Tim Girvin | Nov 22, 2010 | Diary
As the storm comes in, winter borne, the island house gets colder and colder, sifting the iced winds from the north, roaring over the hills, the forest, back to the southern sea. Fire might be the only way to get warm. While I’m drawing, I put my hands into the...
by Tim Girvin | Nov 19, 2010 | Diary
“The reality of a room, for instance, was to be found in the vacant space enclosed by the roof and the walls, not in the roof and walls themselves. The usefulness of a water pitcher dwelt in the emptiness where water might be put, not in the form of the pitcher...
by Tim Girvin | Nov 17, 2010 | Diary
THE MEANDER I’m working on a complicated paper. It’s long. It’s winding. It’s filling out in the mist of uncertainty. But I’m getting there. I do wonder at how — even in the gravity of Fall — the notion of the natural meander...
by Tim Girvin | Nov 16, 2010 | Diary
Surveilling I know, in any journey, you’ll get to some place where the view might be different. In this vista, balanced, that is you, surveilling what lies on the grayed horizon. Going up, higher, the presumption is that you will see further. Or it might be...
by Tim Girvin | Nov 15, 2010 | Diary
THE LEAVED ROAD I’ve been walking out in the old woods, yesterday in the winds and rain — the paths. And that’s been a good voyage, thinking about the move to the city this morning. And all the time — yesterday — prepping to be on another...
