Margins

135 KELLY MOFFETT MARGINS Today, I belong to a series I should call “Open.” Outside, a hill articulates delicately. A white petunia and roofline show me different scales of intimacy. I am reminded by what Donald Judd said of art: Reality is simply more capacious than any order it holds. Also, what my son said when he saw Judd’s sculpture: What is this supposed to be? Yesterday I returned late from the abbey, carrying the incense-musk in my sleeves. (Everything retains characteristics of its previous environment.) Today I look for an actual space, like a treeline, to stare into. ...