Heat

It's a glorious day in Philadelphia: low humidity, warm not hot, and cotton candy puffy white cloud filled blue blue skies. Low level art functionaries like me who have ratty old convertibles are glad to be able to drive top down without melting into the upholstery - for the first time in a long time.

Days ago we baked here in the red brick kiln of the studio building - it's five story east and west flanks fully exposed to the relentless, radiant glare. I took this picture then, in that same pitiless late afternoon sun and heat as it flooded the hall through an opened studio door, and washed in over me like a viscous scalding orange oil, filling my eyes and lungs and gut and the lens of my tiny camera.