Eudemon parked the car in front of the Downer Theater. It was Thursday night and he and his partner wanted to see “Rivers and Tides: Andy Goldsworthy Working with Time.” It was easy. The parking spot was there, so why not? “We’re early, let’s get something to eat at Henry’s.” So they had a veggie burger and salad and a couple of drinks in the cozy bar restaurant just around the corner. After food and drink they went back to the Downer where there was a short line. They bought the tickets and went into the theater. The room was quite full even though they were early. Eudemon picked a row and moved in a few seats from the aisle. A flurry of previews assaulted their eyes and ears but soon, as they say, the feature attraction began. Eudemon had not read a review of this movie but had heard it was doing well at the box office even though it was an art documentary. Some things are meant to be ephemeral. Some things hang around a little longer. Eudemon watched as the screen image of Andy worked with ice and sticks and stones and leaves and snow. Away from museums, often in isolated landscapes, Andy is shown with his materials and with nature. Circles of ice soon to melt, cairns of stone submerged by tides, pools of flowers next to the waterfall, delicate webs of sticks set in the wind, strings of color, strings of leaves tracing a path through the woods and down the stream, these are the works of Andy Goldsworthy. “What patience,” thought Eudemon. “What a singular vision, uncorrupted.” “This man has made meandering an art form and a job as well.” “This is my work, I will lie down on an open path and let the rain trace the shape of my body. And when I get up, for a moment, my shape will be visible on the ground. Ya, send me the check for that.” Eudemon was just a little jealous that someone could be so intuitive and free in the world. Riverwest Currents – Volume 2 – Issue 8 – August 2003