:: Wednesday, March 21, 2001 ::

 

10:05 p.m. A wonderful, heavy package came in the mail today, and my very savvy mailperson decided not to throw it over the wall. He or she must have hefted it a few times and decided that it could have done some real damage if a beloved pet or a kneeling gardener happened to be crouching near to the target drop.

The Mir space station drops in on Friday. Just thought I'd mention that.

In any event, the mailperson left a salmon-colored notice instead of the package and once his or her route is over for the day and all the packages are brought back to the central station, we were free to walk over and retrieve our wonderful, heavy undelivered package.

I was feeling extremely tired and uninspired, so Igor went alone and lugged the package back. Did I mention that it was heavy? I saw immediately that it was from my son, the sculptor, and so I called him and opened the package while we were on the phone together. He was sleepy tired, too.

However, I have to say that once I saw the gleam of the bronze, I woke right up. My first true art ob-jay! He's been working on some other pieces, and just for fun he smushed his hand into the material that comes before the wax stage, as I understand the process.

However the process works, it certainly results in a whole lot of detail. It's a solid piece of work, and it even makes a different tingly clear bell-like sound as you tap each finger. Were I so inclined, I could post those fingerlings right here on the web, but believe me -- I'm too tired.

Don't know why -- just blah, flat, blech. Heavy, heavy, heavy.

Some days just are this way. Fold the laundry and put it away.

This is the second hand I've acquired this month ... the universe must have been listening.