Fields

The timing of symbol is similar to the timing of the weather. An
allegory is enacted in a continuous sinew throughout your life and it
only becomes apparent when a severe change shows you the horizon. It is
then that the weather changes too, and the coldness that gave way to
humidity takes a break? and life (and the wind) blows.

During the time that I knew you, I only wrote and danced for you.
Having an outlet for my emotions personally in the condition of feeling
love for you meant that my art, which has been feeling sick like I have
for a very long time, could temporarily continue. Now, as the love is
taken away and the art, like the wind, might die down, my art's going
to have to change. I could invent a new season or paint a new portrait
on the same canvas, but the symbol and the timing of my art won't be
obscured. With love lost there are no erasers, no restorations and no
second coats. The paint of another era is the paint that can no longer
be used, and writing for me instead of you shows that I have used
myself as much as I have used you, or you have used me. I feel that we
both feel used. Should my art feel guilty or should I?

I sat outside tonight with the same despondent reluctance that I had
earlier this evening as I avoided talking, experiencing, or committing.
Those three actions which form in unison the way we live have been
reserved for a special time when I have the strength to listen,
remember and experience. In the meantime, I will observe, estimate, and
organize. Planning the events of a life that you were meant to begin in
1982 but still aren't ready for involves an incredible amount of
catching up. I can't catch up to the wind. It's reaking havoc on the
barley, and the fields are closed.