I went to a nearby fishing village. Necessity can be ingenious. The fishermen have managed to build good boats out of the battered wrecks that littered our shores. They tell me that the exporting of sponges has become extensive.
I wish I could sail with a sponge crew. I went with a crew once. Glued inside my decorum, I can’t believe I was free...wild...bold...headstrong...long ago.
Yes, I would like to cruise into deep blue water and stare down, then to the sponge shallows and swim down, down.
P
My new book is ready.
It was interesting to visit the Kamen house and check the copies.
I stopped for a moment in the alley to gaze at the sun symbol painted over the house door. More and more, geometric designs are giving way to more plastic ideas in decorating. Polychrome painting seems to grow more imaginative. Our ceramics are becoming more forceful. I thought of these things as I looked at the sun symbol, done in blue and gold.
The Kamen brothers were, as always, mysterious, stiff, like Egyptian clay long dried by the sun. It is too bad they can’t apply some of their art to themselves. They are such emaciated creatures, I wonder what they eat?
Each waits for the other to speak; each scrapes, bows, tries to efface himself. Tall, nut brown, with hair tied behind their necks, deer skin aprons over faded clothes, they make me feel like an intruder.
As for my book, it is excellently made. The brothers are perfectionists in their craft. To them, poetry is nothing. Do they read it at all? However, the libraries will be pleased to receive these copies.