SIXTH WEEK

We went to Memphis – a city!  As the car purred into town my blood quickened to be surrounded by tall buildings and strangers again, pedestrians and neon – so much neon!  Art Deco towers soaring into the blue sky;  enormous, gracious Belle Epoch hotels whispering of glories past.  Countless windows burning bright long-after the sun had set.  I was back in my natural habitat.

FOURTH WEEK

The end of a long, hot day; bands have been playing in the streets and a few sun-reddened spectators linger in the dust.  I’m helping to dismantle the barriers, re-opening the road.  We lift the long beams and hurl them to the sidewalk where they clack loudly in the heavy  silence.  The security guard from the local library walks past, his starched para-military uniform exchanged for a well-worn chequered shirt, he smiles warmly and joins us in the work.  Soon we have all the roughly stencilled ‘City of Clarksdale’ planks stacked away, their chipped white paint tired under the bright blue afternoon sky.

SEVENTH WEEK - Accidental Corners

Every quarter seems to have its Open Studio event.