Out there, a heron calls its rattling, croaking call, which reaches far back in time -- a sound so distant in the symphony of the world that, perhaps, it recalls the auditory recoil of the time of the dinosaurs. Water drips from the madrona, old gnarled curling branches, a spatter on fallen leaves. And the water below merely whispers -- now, and again -- I am here, listen for me. I call you, to remind you -- I am here. My flashlight, reaches into the trees, and -- in the darkening -- captures...

Isn't it so that every movement is the nexus of a crossing guard? One element, one lover, comes to an other -- and they twine, rooted. One path way, one road, to another and there is some thing new, seen There, at the point that this crossmark signs, the signature of the simple, yet Holding much in the axis; there is the up, the down, that which comes That which goes. And I see, when the X stroke is known, called Again, that there is a changing. This changing is now, the one Stability that I...

Hi and good morning. An intense week -- surely for all. I was just here, in the office -- seems like. And now I'm back again. Actually, my plane was late, about 10.30pm, the police came on the jet -- and NOT for anything to do with me, as I imagine immediately crosses your minds; then I came to the office to get some things, check out...advancements. Worked later in the night, then woke up to get rolling again. And now here. I've left some cool things in the kitchen, places I've been, pitches...

I spent the day with Balletmakers | Capezio the day before yesterday. It was Cristina and I. Some interviews, some research, some connections. More gathering. This will be going on for a couple of weeks, the two of us. But there were intriguing other insights into the framing of this space -- little things, old pointe shoes. Worn down antique tap badges. And it was about dance -- and everything that lives in this space. And how these things are made. And how the art is brought together, for...

Keep the spirit on wing, really? Love all, then take off... --- T > nyc

Good morning. Here's a procession: For the last 15 years, or more, I've been watching the evolution of this artist, designer and sculptor, Anish Kapoor. He was, however, born one year after me, so he's been around. You probably know about him. Maybe not. But working on the east coast, I had the chance to run down to Rock Center at night, to look at this latest installation. And, in a way, his work -- it's always about perfection: skewed. That is, something perfect that, in some aspect of its...

In looking at the stars, last night, this early morning, I was thinking about the flow of the trees, up into the character of the heavenbound -- and how they flowed there, went up there, branches supporting the stars like myriad lanterns. But the flow there, rising up, the rhythm -- these, to the others is such reference, to the idea that I'm seeking. Being in the fluent instant, that ideasand inspirations come likerain, beauty rebound. And everything moves in some seen cycle, pleasure known,...

The Ringed Veil This curled finger of light, reaches down touching, blessing the watered channel;what's sky, mist, water, merged. Crossing in the silence this curved arc appeared taking me over to the other side, near but never here. Far, but never there -- but where goes anyone, but into the mist, nothing known. Who goes there?

All things bright and beautiful I wonder if this crow feels beautiful -- adorned as he is, banded in silver, white, red, blue? There is surely an added confidence in his stride, looking and bounding about. And he doesn't seem to mind my closer admiration, as I study his jewelry, ringed about the bracelets, talons, curled and glimmering, that flash: that corvid savoring. Beauty known. TSG | Pike Place Market

In Louisville, for a meeting I'd never been there. The city has an older character, this -- polished over, in a newer veneer, still belied, 100 years. The art, renews, messages resonate, details flourish. I've seen things: these. ---- Tim Girvin Louisville, KY