We have been fogged in. It's like being blanketed by quiet and softness. It is chilly despite record high temps on the mainland. So rather than go down to my studio on the shore to work, I'm working in my home office.
This morning, despite some ambivalence, I recorded the last Virtual Concert, at least, for sure until September. I'm burnt out and need to have some time to concentrate on other kinds of work. One of those work projects is finishing a book I've toiled over for almost twenty years, making my ideas accessible. Another is work on the visual level, where I do my best thinking, from the garden here to the "things," "artifacts" that emerge from that thinking. I also need to give some hard thought to earning some shekels.
I am watching the storms in the midwest and wondering how many such events it may take for people to pay attention to the threats of climate disruption from global warming. I am trying to rest, to pay attention to my own disruptions as I live with chronic fatigue syndrome. This is going to be a time for me to be a bit fallow and observe, even if I continue to work.
Doing the Virtual Concerts has flooded me with thoughts about the very issues we dicussed for two years in over 100 podcasts: the potential relationship between and policy potential of the intersection between art, science and climate change. It is time for me to let that digest.
