It’s darker in the Church today.
‘To be an artist, you need to exist in a world of silence.’ said Louise Bourgeois.
That feels right. I can think here. I can read. After about an hour, I have slowed down. I could just sit. Zazen? I look at the floor again, the earth coloured tiles.
A pattern is emerging to my Church day. Perhaps too much, thoughts becoming fixed. Need to change my position. Sit at the other end. Do something different.
But I sketch a few of the choir figures as is my habit and I eat my apple.
My large protractor and huge pair of compasses have arrived. My tools. I will draw the circle later today. GEOMETRY. Other shapes come into my mind, a star, a star within a circle, a star made from triangles. Black canvas. Stars on the night sky. My feet on the earth. The waves splashing noisily on the pebble beach across from the Marina.
Reading. Draft the ideas for the Open Afternoon on 11 April. A long list of things to do. More stones. Order black material.
Iris Murdoch: ‘All artists dream of a silence which they must enter, as some creatures return to the sea to spawn.’
The Church is a sanctuary for thought. Things in my head circulate slowly, occasionally pushing forward an idea, something fresh.