Only yesterday I took bags and boxes of things to donate to Housing Works, and already a new pile has begun to accumulate in the hall. I can’t stop deleting*. Next, soon: a harsh, realistic editing of the wardrobe. (I wear only a fraction of what I own— what's the point?) Time to delete some of… Continue reading Rituals. Looking back and springing forward—
November rain; grey. Dark indoors— all the lights on at midday. Wrestling with invisibles, lately, and frustrated with things beyond my control. Sometimes the freelance life has too many things outside one’s control, although it’s true of most lives.
Everyone seems to be out of sorts, or in a state of transition lately. Well, that’ s nothing new— life is flux. No, what I mean is that a number of people I know have been struggling with big question marks, consciously or not. It’s been coming out gradually, as the summer wanes. They hint… Continue reading The impolitic nature of Early Autumn Onset Syndrome (EAOS)
I still rather like this one; Probably could use more editing, but that's generally the case. In places more frequented by stars Night is a vast and velvet thing- An arcing mass, abyss from which the wisps of dreams are rent or born — to which their unreckoned ellipses return at first light or break of… Continue reading An old bit of writing, again.
Walking through Gowanus at sunset Spring is upon us! Still a bit chilly, but a notable shift has begun this past week. As I noted a few weeks back, it’s been a busy [new] year for me so far; hell it's been busy the past couple of years in general (yay). Not over-taxingly so, but… Continue reading Orion’s waning tenure
Curious, that what begat my happiest epoch to date was the bloody, shredding removal of a Cupid’s dart. Or, no— it was the eventual and, sad, timely falling of Damocles’ sword. At any rate, it was something dramatic and mythic, as such things are wont to be; must be, because we’re human, and we love*.… Continue reading Being stardust is dancing with gratitude— that’s what discoballs are about, and this is a love note to everything in dour Winter
I'm not sure when snowstorms became a thing to be numbered— they were fairly common as I grew up; happened rather regularly Upstate; had no names. Nonetheless, they do feel more fierce now than they did then. Then they were just snowfalls. Led to jolly fort-making or sledding. It all reminds me of Moominvalley, my… Continue reading Second storm of our current winter
First post of the new year; a kind of note to self. Christmastime upstate was delightful. Time with the family and relatives; made cookies with mom; shopping with Dad on Xmas eve; ice skating; saw The Hobbit with siblings, nieces, nephews in the best movie theater EVER (reclining full-sized leather seats, no shit). New Year’s… Continue reading twentyfourteen
A chilly scene from a winter cabin The first annual Haunted Cottage Halloween party (observed on All Saints Day) was smashing! A good start to the weekend, to the month. But now Daylight Savings Time has ended; snuck off in the wee hours of the morning like a thief, stealing the early evening’s last hour… Continue reading the stillness of a sunday
Handsome Red Late night at the farm; window open upstairs and a squeaking distant sound of coyotes through the cricket-song. Tig hears them too. They seek the feral cats that live around here (dinner). The new kitten, Piwaket, was one of same; a runt or cast-off, living on her own and scrappy as hell; my… Continue reading Writing steadies me, as does the farm
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 