Day 23

Who did I touch today? The horse with no name. Jim Cox heard they were sending her to the glue factory, so he brought her here. Now this lovely creature who answers to "Horse," nibbles tall grass on a mountaintop next to a white horse named Sambo and a brown one with no teeth, appropriately named Sugar. Today I found a strange shaped, brick colored rock with a hole in it and photographed it with its shadow. I later learned it is not a rock, but a salt lick.

What did I eat today? Oatmeal and dark roast coffee, salad for lunch, raspberries for dinner.

Who did I think about today? My family, my mom and Barbara Walters, my art group at Peter and Ellie's, Norton Wright and Andrea Bell, my cousin Irene, friends who I'm losing touch with, like Paul and Betsy Horowitz (the former headmaster of Buckley and his wife, who for some reason are really on my mind). Friends I mean to call when I next get cell phone reception--Richard and Judy Nelson, Suz, rsvp to Anthony and Kim's engagement party, Denise Pauley Hovey who wants to know about a lyme disease test...and a hundred others. I'm so busy in my mind.

What colors were on my palette? Hansa yellow medium, burnt umber, burnt sienna, pyrrole red, naphthol crimson, chromium oxide green, cobalt blue, light blue violet and of course, white.

What sounds am I hearing? Last night, the only sound was of the waves crashing onto the rocky shore. No crickets. Tonight I hear crickets again, but I swear their voices have dropped an octave. Must be the cold weather. I've been living here three weeks now and winter changes sound. There is a young sycamore tree outside the studio window, its foliage growing sparse. What leaves are left have clearly dried. Today, when a breeze blows, the sycamore tree sounds like sizzling bacon.

So once again, what have I touched today? The horse, and possibly you. Are you still with me? (And, yes, I am painting.)