Drinking the maybe… or “cardboard conversations” as I’m calling them…. I’m starting  a new series (half conceptual, a half photolog, a diary, a journal… a dying need to describe that feeling of  when you’ve been looking at the empty page for days, the blank canvas, the white landscape, the bare trees and the cold the cold “maybe” the maybes and some crows fly over new paltz. That’s all. Don’t you have these days even if everything is dynamically going well outside? I mean… in that good and very bad “at the same timeness time? Hey, no? Yes? Don’t you? You must. I know you do. That sadness, that softness, that exhaustion, it’s almost overwhelming and yet not quite. That stress so quiet. That desire to close the eyes that don’t close. That need to lay down the body that doesn’t want to even remain still or – even – turn off the even and whatever never turns off. 

Drinking the maybes to see if, who knows, a “yes” eventually overflows.

GT – New Paltz, Jan 4, 2023

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