by Tim Girvin | Dec 24, 2010 | Diary
The art of seeing closer: the magnifying glass and the imagination of the ant SEEING CLOSER ….. When I was little, I put my head on the ground, in the grass, pretending I was an ant. I’d drag my head along, moving through the close earth. I carved tunnels...
by Tim Girvin | Dec 23, 2010 | Diary
When you hold a glass upwards and clink with another, the point would be — “what, exactly, are you doing?” I’ve thought about that — being someone that doesn’t drink — what really is the point of that effort, the convivial...
by Tim Girvin | Dec 22, 2010 | Diary
SIGNING, AND FINDING A WAY. HEADING back to my car, buried in the most dismal garage (that still has great windows) I was struck by this piece of advice. I took it, and kept on going. My point, to the learning – just keep going, thinking about what emerges, and...
by Tim Girvin | Dec 21, 2010 | Diary
In the distance of the night, and the earliest morning, some time in the crossing from one day to another. I was just up. I thought to look at the eclipse, but there were clouds and the raining movements covered the shadowed line. I was thinking about what could be...
by Tim Girvin | Dec 20, 2010 | Diary
NOW, out there, the winds rip and ring the shore like cold waves, rippling. There is a sound in the trees, the waterline that is a rushing fury, I can hear it close, and I can hear it far — out there, up above, across the sounding body of water. The air is...
by Tim Girvin | Dec 19, 2010 | Diary
Being in New Mexico, climbing mesa, reaching out to the tall sky, looking out to the distance horizon, I stacked the measurement of the moment. That idea of creating something — a memento of the moment, stacking stones in the hand, they are the semblance of...
