Two Dot Spot Project #2: as the world turns

6.17.09 6:03am I was awake briefly at 5 to see a bright red pre-dawn strip on the horizon and to hear the densest layers of birdcalls. I know the western meadowlark, the magpies, and the sand-hill cranes, but there are many others I don’t yet know.

6.22.09 8:09am Following patches of light through stencils across the wall and then across the tabletop, my work has begun. It is a game to see how much I can get down before cloud-cover stops me or the sun moves beyond the window frame. I mailed three postcards today.

6.27.09 5:38am The sun broke the horizon just a few minutes ago and now at 5:42 it is behind a low grey cloud. Will there be enough light for me to work today? Yesterday was gray most of the day. I only managed two postcards and I mourn the loss of 6.26.09 on my large paper…but 7 is a beautiful number. Maybe these clouds will give. The meadowlarks are singing, perhaps declaiming the day.

7.7.09 7:30am A look at the clock each morning notes the start of the day, but the rising and the setting of the sun determine waking and sleeping. I finished a second large drawing yesterday.

8.7.09 6:07am Eyes on my wall, I am waiting for the sun to clear a last cloud. Each date working with the sun is marked. The absence of the sun marked with the absence of a date. I mailed five postcards today.

8.10.09 6:16am The days are shortening and our Two Dot summer is ending. It is amazing how fast the sun moves. In 10 minutes it has doubled its distance from the horizon and now there are two pink squares on my working wall, one at each end. In the beginning of the summer, the west square began in the middle of my wall, now it starts at the edge. The light is moving so quickly I will need to get up soon to finish the last large drawing. All summer I’ve worked with the movement of the earth as a locater and marker of time. Yet I continue to refer to the sun’s movement. It is hard to wrap my mind around the idea of the ground under my feet moving, yet it is in constant motion…Terra Firma…the solidness we depend on hurling through our universe. Nothing…nothing is as it seems.