I’ve just come out of the shower. After drying off, I’m now deciding on a shirt. Three possibilities: white, red stripes, and light blue. The striped shirt is missing a button; ok with a sweater on top, but it’s warm today so that’s out. White looks better with my jacket, plus it’s been ironed. But it’s a little boring. The blue shirt was washed yesterday and is still a bit damp, also a little wrinkled. Right now, the morning sun is falling on the shirt’s collar as it dries on the radiator. This creates two tones: a blue reminiscent of the sky on a sunny day, and a yellow-tinted hue that verges on green. I decide it’s dry enough and put it on. After making coffee I go into the living room. Hanging in the doorframe are two pieces of fabric, sewn together on a seam that runs vertically.
This may or may not turn out to be finished work, so I enter the room carefully, trying not to rumple the fabric.
Early afternoon. It’s warm and I’m taking a break, looking out the window as a train rumbles past. I’m in Maria’s studio to help with making some crates. My sleeves are rolled up, and the shirt has gotten a little sweaty from work. There’s also a small coffee stain on the thin strip of the shirt’s front where the buttons are. The last time I was here, there were fewer sculptures, and they were arranged in a row. Now, they are clustered together, to make space.
It’s late evening and we’re both reading in bed. The blue shirt has been exchanged for a white t-shirt, and is currently lying on the floor. I’m too tired to put it away properly. As I read, my neck is becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Somewhere there’s an extra pillow, but it seems unlikely I’ll find it this late. I scoop up the blue shirt and put it behind my head as a substitute. This doesn’t really work, as the shirt is too formless and loose to make much of a difference on top of the pillow. I crumple the shirt into a ball and place it inside the pillowcase, on the far side of the pillow. There’s enough of a bulge on one side of the pillow to follow the curve of my neck, propping up my head as I continue to read.
– Jason Dungan