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Showing posts from February, 2013

Discovered on the Doorstep

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Over the course of a week, a dozen dilemmas present themselves and insist upon that grave, endless, morbid task: decision-making.  

The humble life has given us a thousand small charms, a thousand reeds, a thousand re-sponsibilities.

And the artist goes howling to her art....

Speaking of Auden, it's said the great poet walked around Manhattan in his slippers.

At any rate, the husband, weary, says to me, let's sell everything and go live in a hut in some undisclosed location.

I tell him I like his way of thinking, but so long as we're at it, how would he feel about building a caravan and filling it with the wares --  that we might rattle round the country-side living like modern-day gypsies.

We devise a dozen exit strategies, and speak of winter dreams, from Meheeco to Luxumbourg to New Orleans.

Up ahead,
Colorado blooms
a mountain and a rabbit.

We fall back into our habit.

The tended fire.
The smoke this
the smoke that
send puffs
make stuff
cuddle up
murmuring this
murm…

Trail of Time

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After much exploration in the visual arts, I have decided upon an essential philosophy:

In general, the colors just want out of the bottle.




























I have been teaching the teen-aged children of migrant workers.  It seems to many of them bilingualism is seen as an impediment.   I spent the day refuting this, to likely no avail.

In general, the colors just want out of the bottle.





























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If you're in trouble or hurt or in need, go to the poor people.

- Steinbeck