Year too

In my minds eye I am on my way to Quemado and the Lightning Field. It is not to become habituated to the randomness of it, the “strike,” or to take on the idea of buoyant bravado head on. A cabin in the middle of a desert, which is also in the middle of an art work in the middle of the desert, an artwork that is and isn’t representative, a cabin that is and isn’t a refuge .

This is the next volume. Onward and upward we go.