Dance of ants compiling sawdust, compels us to
Trample, mow, flee to the inviting woods. Our short
Caravan meanders, leans against boulder, attached lichen here
Crash down on leaves and rocks waiting for dark,
Bare stars, glowing mosses, a second light show that
Regales millipedes, azaleas, forsythia. Outdoor sounds
Jar us awake, it’s 2am, we rise in dew-sparkled clothes,
Veering through trees, over rotten wood and rock holes, a deer
Kicks a whip, or jumps, startled by late-night intruders mistaken
For hunters. You can’t know it now, but this night marks the
Epicenter of your youth, from which all events will emanate
Without outward boundary, but in three hundred sixty
Degrees. Bound into it all, bring that screwgee* low and inside.
First Letters represent those in attendance 11/13/2015:
*A Screwgee is a reverse curve ball thrown in baseball that spins in toward right handed batters from a right handed pitcher.
Sorry about the lighting on this photo. Just got excited to put it out there. “That’s a good one Bessie, I dare say.”
and the next one looks better than this shot too….happiness lately at the painting trade.
The background here is closer to salmon, and the deep maroon turned to purpley blue. What a phone camera (plus I no longer have photoshop).
The joy is that the marbling has returned.
Thanks for giving it a look.
One is David Snape:
Thank you sir for the plug.
This one is soon to be traded for a piece of incredibly crafted pine straw basketry by Renata Lader. Ooh boy.
The featured yellow painting is now in the collection (the family has aquired four ) of Laura and Luc (aka Luc and Laura).
What if you had a muse. The muse was constantly inspiring more art, more poetry, more investigation of the multiple aspects of life that you might have overlooked. Let’s say you had this muse for 1.5 years, and she/he was in your life as completely as possible, but then had to leave. How long would that use still inspire you? i’d say it has to do with how well you were inspired while together. Also, how strong the bond became.
The muse in my life will not vanish. She is just around the corner in my mind. Just an electronic click away, most times. and the type of friend, though we may not meet again for a long time, that will always inspire these words. I took a week off here, as I got busy with regular chores. Glad to be back. Hope to regain my blogster friends. Everyone I follow in here has inspired me to keep going in blogland, so thanks for the constant perks here.
Have a great week, enjoy your weekend (should you get one) and don’t forget how smart the children are.
Experiment on printed paper.
I rarely comment on the music I put up here. This one deserves a little explanation. It turns out I have fallen in love and I hope I do fall in love again. And I did fall in love a few times and had it not returned, you know what I mean? So the next time someone falls in love with me, it better be the one I love from afar, the one who already loves me, the one who will never let me go.
What can I do about geography? Circumstances do not ALWAYS make things work out. But, not for the same reasons Mr. Waits settles for more drink and not falling in love, and then he falls for the woman who is no longer in the room, at the end, rang a bell with me here today.
Combine that song with this one, the first on Closing TIme, the one the Eagles brought forward for him, and you have a chance to feel really lonely about the loves that are so far away. Don’t do that, just go give a hug to that one who matters, if you’re lucky enough to be with the EXACT RIGHT ONE.
are you from New York?
I thought I saw you
there in May
or June.” “No Shanghai
but I visited
Manhattan in June, maybe
you did see me there.”
This is how
the opening lines
are played in
his head, but chess is
simple compared to
He’s up, the ruse is
a refill at Foster’s in
Chapel Hill two days
home loss too…
But dude boy
is not about to lose this
one, no; cup
in hand he weaves through
tables, stops, pelvis
as she peers over laptop.
“Yes,” she says,
“Excuse me, are you
from New York?”