Four feet outside of my studio door, backhoes, dump trucks and crews of people rip up the cobblestone street to replace a gas line. Jackhammers, “reverse” warnings, shovels on stone. Not peaceful. Hoping the cobblestone is returned to the areas ripped up; the asphalt patches are not a pretty replacement. Missing the old…
Just got back from being downtown, renewing a vehicle registration. Downtown was humming, busy, with new skyscrapers being built, old buildings being renewed, streets blocked off, everyone looking for parking. It’s a dense, tight downtown, old-monied, coming back from a long sleep. It was great to wander through and see renewed parks, tons of eateries. There was also an unveiling of artist-designed bike racks placed downtown (which I missed, although a friend created one of the racks), while bike lanes are being painted at the same time. The new comes in. Back at home, I’m glad I see it all from my back porch, but do not live within it. It’s lovely, but perhaps would be too much as a constant.
Back to the studio now. Working on commissions, and trying to get small work built up for the Plaza show in Kansas City. Hoping to shake the rumblings of the nearby street crew, the buzz of the city, and land back in my head, solid in the studio. This is a part of why I work at night. It’s time to claim more creation time, though.
Have a good day.