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(An inauspicious start but one should never expect too much satisfaction from a computer.) I was hanging art and setting up a loaned digital projector at the site of the old Bridge Motel, now a septiplex called Footprint. They invited locals to show artwork for Friday's grand opening tour and it makes enough sense--the new woody floors and neutral walls are as mutely sacred as any museum's. The building Sarah and I are in is tall. Dangling chains act as down- spouts directing gutter runoff to river rock cairns below. I thought, Now there' a novel approach-- and it got a workout in today's wind, rain, and touch of snow. (Isn't the internet great? It lets us discuss local weather with the whole world after it's already blown over.) |
