Within the space of 36 hours, the whole atmosphere has changed. We wander around, our arms outstretched, wildly semaphoring over the slick surfaces.
Well, I've finally signed up for the last reading, so I can bore everyone for 10 minutes next week.
Hard to believe we're over half-way through the residency.
Marie, a poet, has just arrived. We've been trading traffic ticket experiences. Nothing like laughing at the police over breakfast.
From my studio window, there's a narrow strip of river still flowing. Every so often I can see a chunk of ice floating down stream, or upstream, I'm not sure which. Whatever it is, it's going with the flow.
I'm always impressed by artists who know their overall "thrust" or focus. I don't know if I have one, other than the shifting sands of identity, and everyone writes about that.
Today is kitchen stint day, so I'd better get back to what I'm here for!
On my way back to the studio this afternoon, I saw this patterning in a puddle where the mud had thawed.
I love these shapes and how they replicate in other places.
This looks surreal, the reflection of trees in the water on top of the ice.
This one shows water flowing over the ice. The temperature dropped this evening, so it's going to be another impromptu ice-skating day tomorrow.
Tonight is a lecture by another visiting visual artist who is a sculptor. We have wine and chocolate so I feel we're adequately prepared.