In The Mix

Fruit flies have gotten smarter, taste terrible. They like my drink. Had to stop eating bananas until after the first couple of frosts. Staff meeting, much talk about the Wrack Show. Interest and some confusion. Briefly below the floodwall but we couldn't recover the hawser without some sort of loppers, though no one else can either, so, confident we'll get it. The missing link, one of, could use more rope. Start in earnest at the shed on Monday, sorting pieces, making lists, and it all feels right. Will be good to start handling the actual sticks. Had an excellent visualization of the pergola today, especially after Nick's suggestion that we might soak grape vines in water, to soften them, and wrap them around a section of it, would also serve as a kind of reinforcement. D could turn some pegs from found sticks, standard size shaft with a bulbous head, a great attachment. God-damned black snake in the grass, walking in tonight, and it wouldn't have frightened me so badly but I was deep in a reverie, thinking about B carving a roughly female shape, viewed from behind, that might be in the other 'Peeping Tom' window. I get preoccupied. Then, after dinner, a can of beans, bread and cheese, some olives, I'm thinking about two things, on a kind of rotating basis; one is how this sort of installation is site specific, and the other, more important, for me, now, is that the materials dictate what and how they do what they do. I've used natural sticks, in construction, for years, but more recently I only want to use natural forms, I'm not interested in 90 degree corners and all the rest of it. Regularity bores me, I've been around too long, built too many houses. B and I have talked about this, the last house I build will have no right angles, will be built from reject sticks collected from the bone-yard of saw-mills, shingled with slats cut from shipping pallets, a modest shack without running water, just enough electricity to charge batteries so I can write. I'd rather use an oil lamp to see. The light is better. Speaking of which. The angle of light changes almost daily and the leaves are drifting, another year is dying. Are your ducks in a row? It's all a matter of latitude, what you allow. I am, actually, better off than last year, when I was completely ill-prepared, and that's all I wanted to be, a little better off. I don't want life to be easy or I tend to nod off, fall asleep at the wheel, and I need to stay attentive, or I don't notice things, and I need to notice things or I feel I'm wasting my time. A Catch 22 but there you are. My ego is not on the line, but my life is.