Today I have been as impatient as a wound up tin bear beating its tin drum. I usually feel the most impatient when I am actually exercising a lot of patience, the way my stomach muscles ache after I’ve done a bunch of sit ups. So I started thinking about artists who are incredibly patient, and Wolfgang Laib came to mind. He quit medical school because he felt that Western medicine treated only the body, not the soul. He then took up art as a way to heal the psyche. His practice involves hours meticulously gathering pollen from sources like dandelions, hazelnut and pine trees. He then sifts this pollen into radiant installations whose borders appear as amorphous as the edges of a Rothko painting. I love Mr. Laib’s reverence for materials, and the ritualistic way that he makes art.
P.S. I knit from 7:55 – 8:55 pm. Refreshing breeze after hot day. Pale pink sunset. Ship anchored close to shore. The man with the cow bell on the back of his seat puffed up the hill. Four people sat on the bench to enjoy the view, before and after my knit.