Under Load

Spent the day in 1944, reading Mary's letters. The couple did go to Virginia, several letters mailed from there, but there's hardly any mention of what they did. I haven't found and snapshots yet, plenty more to go through. If he was true to form, Carter would have painted the watercolor "Lasalle Blades" first, we know it was composed from photographs, then later have done the much larger oil "Tidewater". Both are very good. The watercolor is spectacular, Sara is having it reframed at a shop she prefers in Hilton Head. Bev called me over to the balcony rail and there was an Art History class that needed docenting. Almost had to call this post "On Viewing Cleavage" because there was so much in attendance today, flaunted in that popular style where we see the top of a sexy bra. I managed to take them through the "Outsider" show without forgetting to breathe. Then back to Mary. She's a lousy stylist, and whines, and manipulates, but I get into it because it's all completely authentic. I don't like the overuse of that word, but it applies here. These are the actual letters, mostly Mary writing to her mother, but enough other stuff to keep things interesting. I started on the chest-of-drawers that came from C's studio, and it's a dense and arcane assemblage of things. Hundreds of photographs, clippings, tickets, labels, slides (that need to be digitized), ads for various things that I assume he designed, some of the drawers are divided into separate, labeled bins. In the one labeled 'nudes', which is a treasure trove, he must have paid models so he could photograph them, I found one that is in the exact same pose as an angel watercolor he did '44. Pretty cool. I mean, I found it. If it rains before I can get out in the morning I'll probably just take the day off. My reading matter is backed-up. I've got hundreds of pages of off-prints that I need to go through, see what I need to set aside to read later; but the problem is, when I attack that pile, I end up stopping and reading everything. Everything sent to me in good faith by very bright people, I probably do need to read whatever it is. And I can get through the pile in a day, I do read fast, because some things I wouldn't finish, I'd throw them against the wall. If it doesn't rain, I might stay in town for a Blues Night at the pub. Jim slipped in next to me, at the bar at lunch, a full professor and a great blues guitarist. Anything in the key of G. Lord god, Katy latch the hatches. However you'd say that. I don't care what happens, just watch, from a certain remove. Maybe I planted the idea that he and Patty be here Friday night. He silenced me with a hand. He'd played with these guys before.