Sent from Bill Hogsett
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[At Pechmerle]...there are hands everywhere on the walls and lots of bison, wooly mammoths and horses, all that, amazing horses with spots on them and we walked down into this really large cavern through tunnels with stalagmites growing up and stalactites dripping down and the guide rattling off completely understandible French and we came into this huge cave… really big, and hanging down from the ceiling was this huge stalactite, right in the middle of the cave but it wasn’t a stalactite, it was a root, a root from one of the miniature oak trees on the surface above, (the parking lot?) calcified he sed, but still growing at least eighty or a hundred feet down in a thin cone to a shallow pool of water. Growing right through the open air of the cave to nurture itself with water from the pool which we all had to lean over the rail and peer into, even Mme. Ne'rMin', and I put my hand up so it reflected and there I was like some kind of touristic paleolithic Narcissus amazed and trying to figure out what was going on...
~journal entry for 9 June 1997
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Sailor, 1999, ink,watercolor and acrylic on paper, 11.5x15 inches.
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