“A man is never such an egoist as at moments of spiritual exaltation, when it seems to him that there is nothing in the world more splendid and fascinating than himself.”
– Leo Tolstoy, The Cossacks
Last night’s documentary provides a burst of self assurance for today’s outlook. I decided to create a miniature for the local Tiny Art fundraiser — a “prime-the-pumper” that fits my current momentum in the studio, with no lasting significance intended. On the other hand, after having seen my show in Lexington, Danny handed a copy of The Cloud of Unknowing to me, out the window of his truck. “This is going to sound over the top, but it’s just the way it is,” he said, a whiff of diesel exhaust hanging in the unseasonably warm air. “I’m loaning this book to you for ten years.” Something suggests that it may be one of the most important things to happen during this interval of my life.
Today’s sight bite— Luminous, high-altitude popcorn clouds sailing above vessels of deep purple-gray, —c-l-i-c-k— as Apollo’s blazing chariot plunges beyond the edge of the world.