when words fail me, which is often, I paint. When words work for me and are available on time, I am surprised.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Tate talks in his sleep; sometimes when I am sketching him. Sometimes he talks to "the people" about zsa sza sza. Sometimes he speaks in German even though when he is awake he doesn't speak any German. One night he was ordering bullets to the line and talking to the men about their journals. "But first you must look to Denali" was an interesting comment I recall. There was the time he sat up in bed and seemed to catch something in the air above my head. He was still asleep and he said,"Did you see that? It almost hit you". "See what?" I asked. He described one of those middle ages weapons, the spiked lead ball on a chain? I don't know what he called it. I'm lucky he protects me while I am sleeping.