Crumpled and layered, metallic painted cotton, freeform acrylic ink drawing of pier pilings. The panel remained, pinned up in the studio, for months. Then it was time to let that eye focus and commit. "Don't cut it up!" said a friend, knowing my tendency to do so. I let that be a constraint: keep the panel intact. I had painted it horizontally, but I didn't want to make a horizontal quilt; it wanted to be vertical. The pier on edge.
Thoughts of how we sunk necessary pilings, piers to engage with shipping, building across the land to facilitate industry, cities, societal growth. But then, vertically, sky-scrapers, high-rise apartments, stores, towers. The pier I know and drew has crumbled: it is just pilings, the connecting boards long fallen or rotted away.