Thursday, April 16, 2009

Timing is everything.  Ever have one of those "off" days?  I finally finished an epic project yesterday (which took more time than I ever imagined) and took the final product up to Astoria today only to find the office closed.  Who knew?  It's Thursday.  So I stopped to see a friend, and her gallery was also closed.  I wandered through local thrift stores, sure that I would see a couple of paperbacks I wanted that seemed to flood the shelves previously.  Not today.

I also signed papers for my new LLC today--which was supposed to be done last week.  I'm waiting for payment on outstanding invoices.  Meanwhile, days go by, and then it's next week.

Now it's crunch time.  Everything needs to come together, and sort of is, but there is far too much stop-and-start and delay for my liking.  I keep telling myself that it's only the difference in culture from east coast to west.  Patience, patience, all in good time.   

Arriving home this afternoon, I decided that it's been way too long since I'd walked on the beach--at the end of my street.  Sad.  The plan was to check out the tidepools at Silver Point, but today being what it was, I'd missed low tide, the wind had picked up, the sky had clouded over.  

But, at the end of the path to the beach, were the remnants of a beach afternoon--a grouping of shells.  Wind had piled sand around and through it, and, as I looked around, the spring beach was littered with wood and rocks and bull kelp.  Thus began my search for still lifes on the beach, which is something else I haven't done in way too long.  I like to do this and look at them not as two-dimensional photos of kelp and stones and wood, but as little "pictures" of texture and color. 

The timelessness of the beach is always soothing.  I slowed down, wandered into the present and found these temporary mixed media pieces.