Every weekend I open a "new post" window, and there it sits, staring at me with its blank, accusatory stare. No, the accusation comes from within. The pressure I put upon myself, the spreading myself too thin, unwittingly, every time a create a 'weekend' list— I hobble myself with overwhelm! I did cross lots off… Continue reading Moonwater and Other Rituals of Navigation
А la recherche du temps perdu When I saw how the new sun shone,I opened all the morning to her. When I felt the heat of midday,I turned my face to feel her warmth. When her exit cast a wake of diamonds on the sea,I sailed in pursuit ’til they sank out of view. When… Continue reading In Search of Lost Time | no regrets
These days following the winter feasts bring a quiet with them, not necessarily unwelcome. Often grey and a little lonely, or too-quiet for some, yet there is a gentleness to them that eases the emotional tumult forced by the calendar shift into a new year. When I was younger, I longed for the new year… Continue reading The calm monochrome that follows the feast days
It arrived with that kind of grey rain that settles in for a few days, so you just have to settle with it. I was out all day Sunday and into the night; eight miles of walking in the rain, and when I got home the apartment was clammy like when it rains at a… Continue reading And just like that: Autumn
My brother and Seneca in the ring while I was up at the Farm in July. Summer! It’s been too hot. It’s rained a lot. It’s been busy with work, and (half Fridays notwithstanding) I’ve still not gone on a date with the Atlantic Ocean. Haven’t cycled as much as I’d like. But it’s been… Continue reading Summer hid a whetstone in the slender paths between cornstalks
Above: sketch of a suburb— viewed from the spire, as it were. A suburb represents, to me, a place that lacks the most wonderful parts of both cities and wide open spaces*; A pattern imposed; a restrictive one— made to serve its developer's purpose rather than its inhabitants. Sometimes, life feels that way, no? (how… Continue reading how things move altogether too quickly and smoothly once a pattern is imposed
Spent some time in Red Hook over the weekend; went to say goodbye to that institution of a watering hole Bait & Tackle, followed by a visit into Sunny's (where yesterday's photos originated), and finally dinner and some time with friends who sing at Hope & Anchor, also soon to be no more. This is… Continue reading Jolly sketches of karaoke time at the diner
The wind in the trees at night in October sounds like all the silent wishes of dreams, rushing to be first in line.
Waning of summer month, end of beach weather month. Back to work and back to school month. Memory— no A pattern, died in the wool. Buckled-up books, backpacks, cardigans. Skirts and stockings and closed-up shoes that suddenly feel too tight. Early rising, hasty breakfasting— Tie your shoes and Don’t forget your lunch and The bus… Continue reading September
Each successive month of summer leaves us in its wake faster than the previous— longing for 9:30 sunsets, never quite knowing what time it is for the wanton excess of sunlight. This summer has held some challenges and sad moments, a couple more of which I learned about on Sunday. 2016 has been an unstable year, and persistently so.… Continue reading Lengthening shadows of late summer
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 