Set Sail

God, what a fine dinner. Everything worked today. Starving at the end of it, I made a great hash from left over roast beef and minced potatoes, with shallots and garlic, plopped a fried egg on top, toast with Carma's grape jelly, and a stout whiskey on the rocks. Good enough for anyone. Started hanging the show today and it's a lovely thing. Ran the numbers on a couple of walls (length of wall, add total width of pieces in that bay, subtract, divide by the number of pieces plus one) to make sure there was room for the labels. One bay didn't work so Sara came down and we finessed a solution. When James started doing the numbers for me (he had to organize a file of pics for the other venues first) the pace picked up. Takes two to hang a show, generally, if anything is wider that three feet, and I don't like hanging a painting worth $50,000 without an extra set of hands. This is it, though, the fucking cat's meow, installing a show like this, being very careful, all cylinders clicking, and it is exhausting. The front wall is beautiful, stunning even. Pegi hadn't seen the Carter horses, and they blew her away. Just the reaction we're after. Sara has done her work well, and my intention is to install it nearly perfectly. Could hardly stop, but I knew I needed to, at 4:30, because my brain was fried: but I can see it done, projecting ahead, the time frame works, light it this weekend with D, then set the labels next week and clean the floor. Then set up for a huge opening party, then clean up from the party, then get to work on framing for the next show upstairs. Finessing the one wall was fun, I ran another set of numbers and told Sara that if we could use a one foot shelf for the two circus toys (a camel and an elephant, with axles and wheels, very cool, but the elephant is missing an ear) and the two pics, a camel and an elephant Carter had shot at the traveling local circus, then we'd have 8 and five-eights between and that would work. She went and got a couple of little pedestals, one plexi, one painted, squatted down and tried several arrangements. Found one that worked, we save 13 and a half inches of wall, divided by 8, perfect. And this was the tightest wall, the rest of the gallery is clear sailing; end of tomorrow I should be 75% roughly installed. Still, have to run electricity to all the diaramas, rig the fucking Aviator Monkeys, but I'm feeling good about it all. I love doing this, I could make more money a thousand ways, but I'd have to be away from home, building a staircase in Iowa, a hard-plastered shower with a built in bench in Texas, delivering a table to Colorado, and I don't want to travel, I want to stay home, read and write, that's really all I want to do. This whole B thing bothers me, I can't deny it. Like the way it came in there, it's a plague unto my house. If we're not going to speak, I'd rather live on another ridge, or buy him out, so we didn't have to occupy the same space. This situation is not acceptable to me. It's not critical, I don't have to act on it tomorrow, but it is on my mind. I don't care, one way or the other. I could move to Arkansas, or even back to Mississippi, in many ways I don't care where I live, or I could stay here, a fine enough place, with acorns aplenty. Why even consider bronze, stone is good enough. Then you don't even need to consider a source for tin. Stick with stone as long as you can. I hate melting shit, it scares me, really, like clowns.

Tom

Fell asleep
Before I Sent