like doing an animation. When he flipped the pictures
quickly, he -Would get the illusion of movement and
that illusion would be embedded in his mind as he
hoped it would be in the marble block.
After lunch he showed me how to use some of
the carving tools to do the preliminary work on the
block. Even though it was hard work, I enjoyed it,
enjoyed knowing I really was contributing to this artistic masterpiece. The day flew by and I didn't have much time to tend to my usual chores, but when Kenneth announced it was time to stop, I was actually
disappointed.
"It's all right," he told me when I complained
about not being able to clean and organize his house,
especially after a weekend. Mondays were always the
hardest because he seemed to get even sloppier on
Saturdays and Sundays. "This is what an artist's life is
like. Now you can understand and appreciate why I'm
not the neatest, most organized individual you've met. "Anyway," he added, "you can do what you can
here for twenty minutes or so. We're finished for the
day. I'm just going down to the beach for a while to
think. Then I'll come back and take you home," he
said.
He left with Ulysses at his heels and I went to
work cleaning and organizing the studio. I swept up
the dust and chips from the marble block, cleaned and
arranged the tools, and fixed the sofa again. As I was
moving about, I paused at the drawing desk. I hadn't
looked at the pictures yet. Kenneth hadn't offered and
I was afraid to ask. Now, they were covered with a
white sheet, and I wondered if Kenneth was the type
who hated anyone looking at a work in progress. I
hesitated.