One thing, I think, is that I take every thing, every memory, every feeling of my current life past And I just keep adding and carrying the weight of it with me, because that is so much easier, albeit slower, to carry everything and set it down where ever I settle down, Than to go …
squeak…squeak…bits of wood like sawdust loosen with each counter clockwise turn an agonizing dismantling, not of this table but its past, my past, a dad built past so long past now, the wood dowels have shrunk and been re-glued several times, the holes in the mid-century modern plexiglass top re-drilled several times, so much sawdust, …
one of the nicest things someone could say to you is “I often wondered, what became of you” and to say that after a lifetime gap of 55 years. after all we have spawned, rooted, and accomplished, that we get to lay down these delicate bones in each darkness and rise again with a new …
Tulips steamed with iron water, vinegar water on watercolor paper.
Gorgeous colors and shapes of tulips in natural repose
A gift on a sunny February day to usher in stirings of spring.
There she is, at it again, showing off, painting with clouds, as the light changes within seconds, within seconds, my head twists to gather all 180° in, I can’t look away from Aprils’ masterpiece of reflected light, wind and suspended condensation, against the receding horizontal perspective of continually shadow upon shadow of Douglas fir greens. …
in the arena when the child of a friend takes their first breathe as the wax melts away from the wick as the candle is lit in the arena when the friend of a friend becomes conscious of their breathe as the soft glow of light spreads out reflecting windows within the shadows on all …
Although it appears that I sit here, still I move the air surrounding, with each breathe, I pull the energy from the dark roots of the earth, there is mud under my nails and dried clay in my pores, All of history resides in that compost, every gain and loss compacted under rain and ice, …
