Sunset, Monday, 25 May 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

Sunset, Sunday, 24 May 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.Not to worry – I don’t think every sunset requires a metaphor – but a pale blue and white sky beyond the clouds was like glimpsing an underground lake.

Thanks tonight to Russell C. Smith of Seattle, who shared his collage paintings with me and who seems to slightly resemble Roy Orbison. His work can be found on Imagekind.

Sunset, Saturday, 23 May 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

The builders of the night sky are a race who can strike flaming orange sparks off blue-gray ore. They stretch clouds into sheet metal, then drive off west in their steel phaeton followed by fire. Their exhaust makes unbelievable contrails they never see.

Sunset, Friday, 22 May 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on linen, 16 x 20.

Sunset, Thursday, 21 May 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on linen, 16 x 20.

Sunset, Wednesday, 20 May 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on linen, 16 x 20.

Tonight’s big ‘empty’ sunset with ‘nothing’ in it – the kind of sunset no one would or should or does paint – reminded me, later, that “time has no beginnings and history has no bounds.”

I have this on no less an authority than Gordon Lightfoot in “Canadian Railroad Trilogy.” I’m not a folkie – the next thing out of my iChing was “My Brain Is Hangin’ Upside Down [Bonzo Goes to Bitburg]” – but that GL item is one of the most thrillingly boundary-bending songs ever written. (Get the less orchestrated studio version, 6:22, if you can’t obtain the live track.) The boundaries I mean trace territories of music, lyrics, history and commentary.

Today I called Flint the foxhound a scoundrel. Then thought better of it. He’s a houndrel.