The Sesquicentennial Show will undoubtedly have a separate Journal, like my last exhibit, so I have started writing these journal entries that will give rise to the actual art. In this blog, the Journal Entries and Letters will be in italics to stand apart from my own thoughts, as I try to keep my own commentary separate from that of my characters. Below are examples of a journal entry and a letter home. After this all entries should be in chronological order.
Journal Entry, July 20,1862:
This home had been ransacked, burned, as had many of the surrounding houses, but scattered about were wonderful remnants, bleached bones of books, belonging to no one now. I carried as much as would fit in my saddlebags. Even the spine of an ancient volume of poetry seemed a treasure to this pilgrim from The Wilderness.
Letter Home, June 25, 1862:
Dearest Marianna,
The journey away from home has become much more than I imagined. There have been sights I hope you never see. I hope no one that comes into this world shall see the horrors that I have witnessed. Yet, there are people I have met, sights I have seen and lessons I have learned that are more beautiful than this pilgrim can describe. I shall never be the same boy that I was in the Wilderness. I am a part of all of this now; I am all of this now, and for always; in all ways.
As a courier, my horse and I must remain the fastest of the fleet; we travel quick; travel light. I have collected more books than I can carry, so I must bury my parcels of knowledge as my collection becomes unwieldy. Only you and my brother know this, and in the event that I do not return from this journey, only you two will know the locations of these parcels. Upon my person will be a list of latitudes, longitudes, and landmarks. Go there, if you wish to find them; if you wish to find me. What you find there will be a part of who I have become, who I am.
An immensely large battle waits tonight for its players to arrive at dawn. We may return, or we may completely extinguish a generation of boys; whichever it shall be, remember me to all you meet, for within their eyes, you shall see me smiling, and almost speechless in my love for you.
So, no more. I still remain
Yours until death,
and beyond that as well.
Hello Michael,
ReplyDeleteMaybe it's the half empty bottle of vino or that it's a rainy day here in Ortiga (Sicily) that is adding to my enjoyment of the way you write, but whatever it is...keep up the fine work. I've always thought you were a wonderful artist now I know you can write too. Can't wait to see your show in October!!