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...
by Tim Girvin | Feb 21, 2011 | Diary
I have some books, journals that I’ve made, that only contain scribbles. Scratching. Scarring. Scripting. They are drawn in scripts that only I know. They are circle books — collections of circular strokes. Or books that are writing, symbols, gestures and...
by Tim Girvin | Feb 18, 2011 | Diary
I was writing a piece, earlier today, on the concept of baring — that idea of revealing, versus the other similarly sounding expression of bearing — which is more like “carrying” something. To bare, to lay open, uncovered — and to bear,...
by Tim Girvin | Feb 14, 2011 | Diary
WRITING ABOUT LOVE TODAY’S the day. But I’m less concerned about that, and better — the perpetuity of it. KEEP THAT GOING. The love thing: petal, heart, butterflies: sharing — friending and the finding of it; what could be, and what you could...
