My star-shaped holepuncher could fill anything with the absence of stars,and I sat outsidein the cold air: a pile of leaves, my punched canvases. I would let them take the wind when they needed to leaf. Art belongs to itself alone,and I was waiting up for Venus. When the twinkle in the sky became clearto carry a name with certainty,a bright white brighter than anything … Continue reading why the moon is a little smaller now than it was 30 years ago