March 3, 2009
work in progress, 6
He with difficulty at the sight of the field and the ungainliness of light absorbing the movement, the chaff and wheat at harvest, but what is sewn is unable to be separated he thinks, counts the seeds, a pinch, and distributes them, a brush against his leg. Autumn in this time of year through the fields is insufferable, the vibrations and the pulse at temple point, and at his feet the dust or chalk kicked up, the effect of points of light — concentration able to be manipulated for solid spaces — but still the sensation wavering in the light of the cypress against the church spire at the edges — more than waves and space — as if the sound of these things…. He can hear the distant sound of a cart-horse and winds it over the hill at any moment. The fields at night. Visionary.
Chalk.
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