just saw a Tibetan sand mandala in production. the work of Ven. Tenzin Yignyen, who currently teaches at Hobart and William Smith Colleges. he was set up in a room at a starchy private school in Concord. a pissa nice art facility, as it happens. he was in a room with lots of paintings on the wall. plus some masks that resembled, to my mind, Tibetan deities. the work of students. I took pictures, which was okay with him, but Blogger wasn't into it, and they landed on my blog with a great deal of extra space, so I removed them and will try otherwise. his work began monday, setting up and chanting. a couple of thangka were on the wall and below that a table with unlit candles and glasses of saffron tea. offerings. Beth and Erin saw a much larger mandala done in Boise, which 6 monks worked on. it was a healing mandala. here the table was a bit larger than a card table, and the mandala itself maybe as much as 42" across. a compassion mandala. when we arrived a boy was sitting nearby playing guitar. other students came and went. the person from who we learned of the event, a homeschooler, arrived with her son. we stayed for about an hour. we'll try to make a visit tomorrow, and on friday, when it is dismantled. for an artist, the sense of impermanence is difficult. we all have glimmers that we lose, and you never know when something might get lost. or as the resident dog has done in periods of nervous distress (worries of abandonment), namely, eaten paintings by both Beth and me. there's a certain egolessness in art, in its creation, yet when the work is complete and free to bumble about the world, we tend to become more possessive. my work. so it goes. Stephen Vincent's mother seems to be facing these issues now, both holding on, at times, and letting go. that wish to stay, that urge to go.