Were we godlike as you promised?

I bought a plant in January, to serve as mascot for my new growth. It is now at least two feet longer than it was then and threatening to reach my bed (growing down from the ceiling). Me, no taller. I was looking at it when I woke up this morning; it has grown in small odd delicate turns. I thought, I don't think I have it in me to make something that beautiful. A reproduction of it, for another, would just be another line drawing of a plant--Ellsworth Kelly did some that are pretty. There are already so many nice things in the world, and maybe I don't want to draw attention from these things, which are already better for being found and not proud.

K. and I went to the Cultural Center to see Jeanne Dunning's exhibit there. In a hallway before, we found an installation by this collective, Guerra de la Paz ("War of the Peace," I guess I should tell you). Socks, shirts and sweaters hung, tied and clumped to make a sort of rainforest bog with big trees, lazy green reeds and a blue lakepond. It's this little Oasis--that's actually the title--in a hallway of industrial carpet, unexpected, out of place. Wool sweaters are rolled into tight balls to look like smooth stones. Sock lace for petals, bath robe belts for vines. K. and I agreed that we wanted to leap into the soft pile of it.