NYC | 5.23 | 07 Andy Goldsworthy: When I can I've checked out the work of Andy Goldsworthy, with an ever-present attachment to his assembled observations. Wherever I can. In fact, I've studied his work since the beginning, decades before. Before he was a kind of household name. There's a bittersweet connection to my attachment, aside from the nature of the work. Decades ago, I used to build cairns with my younger brother, Matthew Girvin, now passed, when he would visit stateside; then, he was...

Madison Park | NYC. 5.22.07 11.23pm People have asked me about the occasional address that I close mails with -- TSG | madison park | NYC. What's that, they say? Are you in a park? Well, sometimes yes. Girvin | NYC is located on 26th + Broadway, just off Madison Park. And it's a great park. One, it's beautiful in a classical kind of way. Olmsteadesque. Two, it's got an incredible creative community all around it. Architects. Interior designers. Graphics groups. Brand firms. It's nice being...

In Tokyo, there's a challenge with Ravens. They're too many, too smart. And they get into trouble. And they get into the garbage. The raucous call of the Raven is a common mnemonic in Tokyo. Even in watching current Japanese movies set there, you can hear them. Really, as entertainment, they are a good addition to the experience of the city. So how could you even hope for something like this? ---- In my personal experience with this mindful family, they reach to me to tell me to pay attention....

The high wind Right now, it's raining and the wind is coming through the trees in a high rushing; and I'm re-minded of something I experienced yesterday, in standing out side, listening. From off to the west, two ravens chortled their bell-like croaks and they continued calling, one to the other, till I could see them approaching. And then, in flying close by, like black cloaks, they kept calling out to each other, till -- the silence in between song -- I could hear the sound of their wings, a...

I suppose that, in a way, it begins with this. Ants. And I always had a great love of them. Not sure that my Dad does. He's had a problem with ants at his house. And so that's a little understandable. But for me, ants in whatever form, are interesting. And they are interesting to this person too. The point is that my early childhood was about looking at ants, and other insects. I can remember my first encounter with Cicadas. And fireflies. And scorpions (all right, they are not insects -- like...

I'd always wanted to head to the Everglades. And given the presence of my eldest daughter, living there, a client, a conference, seemed like a good idea to see about heading out there. Also: airboats. I wanted to see what that was all about. I drove. These images are about the sense of being waterbound, with them; the other character of that glade marsh ecosystem -- which I'll proffer I don't know much about, some feral boars, that showed less fear than I reaching into the water (therewas food...

How many x's do you see? Heading to NYC this morning, working all by myself in the office there, till Wednesday when Christina will be arriving to help me with the opening encounters for Capezio -- all day. Thursday night I'll be heading to Miami, to work there. Returning Tuesday night. Mobile will be best. All ways, any time till midnight NYC. TSG |N Y C | S E A T T L E

Home, the metaphor and global warming. What message, found? Walking around meditations of world-warming, place, home. And where the heart is, shall be... I can relate to this. And I can pretty much relate to everything that Mary Oliver offers. I've compressed it so: Everything I have ever learned back to this live in this world be able love what is mortal hold it life depends on it time comes to let it go. I'd hold that poem there, against my bones, knowing then, time comes to, and let it go....

For about a month, actually, maybe a half year, I'd sorted aside a collection of cups that piled up in a pyramidal arrangement at my house. I've got one house, and it's not in Seattle, it's in the San Juans. And that's where I live, really. In many senses of the word(s). Anyway, my lover and I climbed down this cliff, with this big canvas bag, carrying all of these cups. And some shells. And some whitish stones. And I carried this bag down there then started to hurl this over my shoulder, back...

For maybe some 25 years I've been collecting zenga. These are the paintings of Zen masters. They are of the haboku style, which is the most captivating, to my aesthetic, which is called "broken ink". It's about saying something in nothing. It's about an empty handed gesture, that means everything. And no thing. And, in the tradition of Zen, every thing. The paintings in the collection are produced somewhere between 50 and 200 years old; and in the meditative practice of painting these, the...