




During the winter in the school year my mother sends me to school with two warm biscuits and half an apple. When I'm walking to school sometimes I will stop walking and eating to close my eyes and listen to the trains pass by and the mills working away. I can smell and almost taste the smoke in the air. I can feel the snow crystals piercing my skin. I wonder if I can see Papa working at the mills. I wonder when Papa will have a vacation to spend time with Mama, my little sister Mary, and I. When my Papa will say "Tell me a story, Elanor." But Papa never gets vacations from work. Almost everyone's dad works at the mills. When I go home Papa is tired and won't talk to me. Mary is tired too. A few years later the mills shut down and father has more time with us. Father will finally say, "Tell me a story, Elanor." Now we can see the stars without the mills. Mary has gotten older and is going away for two days for a camp at the museum made out of the mills. I could never forget what they looked like when the mills were still running. I have this feeling that the mills will open up again.
Small "Kairos" study (for Dana), ink and watercolor on paper, 8x10" - part of a small series of paper works for the visiting artists in my classes. I posted the one I made for Katie a week ago.



The Lifted Brow No. 6, is a book and two CDs, is now available for pre-order. The theme is that of an atlas of the world, newly observed by a huge list of artists and musicians. I have two ink-wash paintings in the book based on the so-called "battleship island" off the coast of Japan.



Nathan Abels, "Clifford Griffin" (detail view), Acrylic and Ink on Rag Board, 14x18", 2009
Don Only Dances In Complete Isolation
