They’re getting ready for the festival of San Paolino d’Nola in Bburg. The Giglio is resting. This enormous tower with the saint at top will be carried throughthe streets on the backs of men. It is a tradition brought over from the south of Italy. The phalic quality is obvious and the summer heat is echoed by the walk sign on Metropolitan:
Today was about the first day I’ve fealt relaxed in the studio. It is hard to adjust to the physical act of painting and I’ve been sort of coy and shy like a teenager around the physical act of love. I am struggling with what a painting means in the context of all the linked narrative work I’ve been doing with drawing and computers. I suppose the blog is making the glue that holds my practice together. These thing exists not only as discreet objects to be bought by one person and kept as property (or sold without my owning a copyright and thus no residual), but as a journey in time and space to be shared with all of y’all out there in the blogosphere… they keep changing, but the memory maybe lives here and in some way in the final painting, because in the end, I still want a good painting … and painting is a tricky and hard business…. but today it was sort of fun too. Today, the streets were offering signs to be read, like in Ulysees. It was almost making sense.
