In search of what I had
what I have
and don't have. The trees are dying. The days left in the water supply are in the double digits. We use as little as we can. We are not allowed to water our gardens.
I dream of rain
but it does not.
Hawaii next week and Paris next month, and in June, a place very like Hawaii, but very different. I'm making art about rain, about my daily use of water, about life that lives in or on or from (don't we all?) water, in acrylic, watercolor, ink and pen, and who knows what else.
If I paint it, will it come?
You ask me when I am coming, I do not know
I dream of your mountains and autumn pools brimming all night with the rain
Oh when shall we be trimming wicks again, together in your western window
When shall I be hearing your voice again, all night in the rain?
Li Shang Yin
translated Witter Bynner