Thacher State Park

As my time winds down here at Arts Letters & Numbers, I’m taking a final survey of my environment in hopes of getting any last inspiration. I am currently working on a piece where I reinterpreted signs found in parks that warn about tics and lime disease.

Today I ventured to Thatcher State Park where I walked along an Indian trail that traced the contours of a breathtaking escarpment. The limestone and shale rock glistened with moisture as only dreamscapes do. Looking east, back toward Albany, off the side of the large precipice, I could see the beginnings of small pocks in the form of farms, spotting the viridian landscape. On this primal trail, waterfalls sprout at each turn. It was by far the best hike that I have been on since being back in Upstate New York. After figuring out the math on my steps for the day and successfully planning each following step; I made my way back to the car and went to Albany to meet with a few residents who were interested in an opening at the Albany Center Art Gallery.

The exhibition was a series of photographs of a woman in her 60s taken by her husband who clearly had no boundaries. None of our group really liked the show but we spent 45 minutes talking about it anyway just to make sure there weren’t any unturned rocks. “He’s objectifying her and not even in an interesting way,” “I think they’re all supposed to be landscapes,” and “The artist needs to think more about material” were just some of the comments my new colleagues chirped about once we were out on the street. I left them and drove back to the house to help out with the communal dinner.

Dinner was orchestrated by the two Korean residents were making bibimbap. The dinner ended up being amazing. I was given the larges bowl because behind my back all the residents had decided that I eat a lot.

​After dinner I three–way-called my wife and mother. Apparently this is what you do when you’re newly married.

It's late in the evening now and I just got in from attempting to find a pair of owls that have been haunting the woods behind the house. So far no luck but I did manage to find a frog. I grabbed it and went to show it to the other residents but it bolted out of my hands into some ivy. I left it for a few minutes and chased after the calls of the owls again. After, I returned back to the frog and shined my light onto the glistening patch of green where it had landed. Its body reflected the light back at me like a mirror. When I went to reach for it the frog’s body lengthened more than that of any frog I had ever seen. I crept closer and it bolted out of the foliage toward me. Screaming and pulling back I realized that it was a snake. Not just any snake but an Eastern Ribbon Snake. This trip has really kept me guessing. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.