Dennis Hollingsworth

Dam Break

Quietly, quietly. The wee hours (la medianoche hasta la madrugada) are the best for work in the studio here in Spain. Ear buds (los auriculares) seal in sound of podcasts and audiobooks so as to be kind to the neighbors. East Coast time zone is kept firmly in place, helping the inevitable social segue between paintings. Oil the circles of friendship and repair to the solitude of the studio, a two stroke cycle for the summer in Tossa de Mar. As the night ends and the sky begins to brighten, the sea gulls begin stir and caw, the street sweepers clatter in the street below, the ruckus of the drunken bar hoppers trail away. I kick off the sandals and tip toe to bed. The cell phone screen lights the way, shadows soft and shifting up the stairs.

Blogging has been sparse recently. This is my natural state. It would be so easy to let it fall away. There is an inclination towards the hermit in one side of my family line. But the blog has become an important part of my painting, at least for the fact that it works as a seedbed for titles (all titles are hyperlinked). Stories collect and press the dam of solitude. The blog is also a trail of bread crumbs for whatever interest there might be someday in the narrative of the making of my work.

I started this web log in 2003. Seven more years to go for a 20 year anniversary celebration.

So.

It's high time I resume crumbling on.