Tuesday, November 14th (on my way to the studio, and later in the garden. Posting late...)

• Through the enclosed balcony window, I can see the laundry arching on the line. The magenta sheet picks up on the red beaugevilea flowers in the garden, connecting the inside with the outside.
  I don't know why I have this obsession with laundry lines. These bright spots of color, usually in more dreary areas. The shapes fabric makes as it hangs. The backdrop of textured stone and sky.
  When it is inside, looking at it feels a bit transgressive. And you realize there is always an element of exposure in these closets that are hanging outside. 

• The new growth, sprouting like green fire beside the devastated husks of bushes in the burnt fields around the Valley of the Cross

• The remnants of pomegranates glowing against the yellowing leaves. I don't know if they make me think of decay, and the closing of the year, or of jewels. 

• The way the sun breaking through the living room makes the scattered toys a complex composition of blues and pinks, stretching to an infinite space. Even mess can be beautiful an transcendent.

• The blue towel, hanging from the fence, reflected in the blue shadow, and the blue sky overhead, broken up by bars.