i touched the InkTense pencils to the paper, then the brush and water and moved things…softening the marks, bleeding them out. For nothing. No reason, but just to watch it happen. Began the day this way.
Jenny came and for the first time Ever, we did nothing. We sat in the sun and went through the shared rolodex of our minds. It wandered, back to when she was little to now in her own children in the grand children, old homes, ways of living, Fathers, what to plant down in the meadow here, worming for the Buck Goats, and intertwined was the glaring fact that Talkie was not here. Talkie is ALWAYS in the middle of everything, she chases Jenny in the truck up the Hill. She was not here. I hadn't seen her this morning. Didn't really realize that until sitting with Jenny, out there, in the sunlight, and no Talkie. I called her and called her…nada. so it shifted. How to feel about no talkie, because that had been the possibility all along with the Free Range, and then the conversation would go into some other realm the seed for the meadow, how i used to cook vats of Indian Food, why not now? interspersed by long moments of silence and then me calling Talkie again. Well, we would say, we knew it might go this way and then to my feeling kind of at a loss with the Cloth work and back to yesterday and how it was so
soft
and on to whether we would free range chickens of the future and at that point….there was Talkie. Just right there! 2 hours late, but right there and her most excellent Talkie self…? Where had she been?
Jenny left. we'd accomplished nothing. Didn't even make the effort. Not sure how this feels.
windthread 
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