The installations continue, I've used up one of two bags of two dozen plastic animals from the best giftmas present ever, this one from Saturday, I've learned to install luxury stone floors, today in My Complicity:
My favorite self-portrait ever and potential avatar that. Photo belew from Sunday, the solstice daylight light is gone, the twelve foot shadows of less than six foot me now just eight, but Winter woods:
The extraordinary patience of things! This beautiful place defaced with a crop of suburban houses— How beautiful when we first beheld it, Unbroken field of poppy and lupin walled with clean cliffs; No intrusion but two or three horses pasturing, Or a few milch cows rubbing their flanks on the outcrop rockheads— Now the spoiler has come: does it care? Not faintly. It has all time. It knows the people are a tide That swells and in time will ebb, and all Their works dissolve. Meanwhile the image of the pristine beauty Lives in the very grain of the granite, Safe as the endless ocean that climbs our cliff.—As for us: We must uncenter our minds from ourselves; We must unhumanize our views a little, and become confident As the rock and ocean that we were made from.