of an electric leaf blower next door and our trash begins to accumulate unwanted deposits as

mysteriously as the front sidewalk accumulates more leaves it’s time, with the snowbirds’ return

[Az. from November to April], for us to begin our own migrations…hopefully soonly.

Alerted by Michael Cain I ordered Bill Witherspoon’s book which I thought might address the Owyhee but turned out to be almost all Guano Valley* albeit with a deeper and very different

perspective than certain people’s rolling stoned explorations of that country in the 70s and 80s…stories that stuck and resonated, beautifully presented with gorgeous photographs**

of the near and the far and inspirational in multitudinous aspects as well as,

despite our wildly divergent approaches to that country, remarkably similar takeaways,

just other ways of naming them. Meanwhile my barely bearable walking with Sumi varied

from a maximum of seven to often many fewer blocks and once Linda left for New York

 

in the tiny hours of Thursday shrank to the smallest circuit with each doggo before, strange story, Francisco from George’s Towing in Vallejo arrived to carry the ’45 off to John York’s

SL Werke Shop in the Industrial Park as John turned out to be a longtime Norcal hot rod

aficionado not averse to applying his considerable [if spendy] expertise to “interesting” projects like my misbehaving four barrel and unexpectedly unresponsive electricals.  By mid-afternoon both the Problem and carburetor were sorted but without a ride I stayed inside

tracking Linda’s adventures in distant Manhattan after her long trying day of airports, rush hour traffic from JFK to hotel and then uptown for dinner with our good friend Mary at Txikito.

Friday she went to the Frick and an elegant benefit dinner for the ISC while I kept on with the usual self-appointed rounds [including but not limited to getting a ride

to the industrial park with Scott] though that day, my thawed salmon having disappeared

from the counter, dinner defaulted to seafood korma takeout from Aroma across the street.

Not a bad outcome…Saturday, finally back to [some] painting, was similar; breezy and cool,

THAT night’s salmon safely thawed in the protection of the oven even as L. continued her nostalgic rounds of New York – Whitney Biennial, John Morse’s memorial on the upper west side,

then Paula Cooper for Mark’s opening followed by another dinner with Mary, this time with Judy [both in town for the memorial] and New York friends, a last event bookending a most

memorable three days. Sunday morning as I breakfasted in Benicia she was located somewhere

within the circle, on her way. As was I…revisiting “Enter Space”, working on entering some space

in my own paintings and even Getting Out, Sunday afternoon, down along the waters…

 

*Guano Valley remains a very important touchstone for me too, and inspiration down the years for many paintings to this day. [“Guano Valley 1″, 48×60”, 2004, on the wall in the Repo at Wall Spring]

**The 108 glossily printed photographs, many spanning the accordion folds of the five books, may eventually constitute a certain inherent vice when folded and unfolded over time but “Enter Space” led me to deeper investigations where I found within a fascinating two hour interview a wonderful slide show of land and weather at 1:01:35 well worth seeking out…it all also gave me a better appreciation for what Bill is accomplishing with the Sky Factory.  All this turned up while trying to find something specifically about his paintings, which remained elusive…

“Shirk Ranch”, 24×24″ and “Trailer at Guano Canyon”, 24×20″, both 2025.