WordPress Discover did me the honor of sharing one of my recent posts yesterday, for which I’m grateful. I'm happy to say Hi! and thanks for reading my work. It means a lot when my words or images connect with people. So, thank you again. As a number of you’ve just arrived via the portal… Continue reading To visitors who’ve recently discovered this place
People disappear Sometimes all of a sudden without warning. Sometimes gradually like sunset on the longest day of the year, or how long it takes some trees to become naked in the face of oncoming winter. One way is like hitting a brick wall. The other is more torturous. An ongoing awareness tracing the slow… Continue reading Leave(s)
Here's something that I apparently saved as a draft last spring. I found it a week or so ago, and I don't think I'll spend any more time on it, but as it was just recently Imbolc, and we had a 60º day Wednesday (despite the blizzard since) I thought I'd post it as a welcome to nascent Spring.… Continue reading Prima Vera
Looking out upon falling snow in a fierce wind, having read the latest news (that has spoiled my coffee, again—) Gone cold, with my views or once-belief regarding some inherent goodness— A bleak feeling that renders even this brutal, unkind weather beautiful Gentle, by comparison. Each day, what counts as News defiles sense. Escalation, unsustainable (please) Noah's mythical flood Now… Continue reading Looking out upon falling snow in a fierce wind
The image above is an odd little thing I wrote when I was 23; I was photographing sketchbooks and other do-dads while I was at the Farm. There will be more to come, art archive series. . . . It's sunny today, a nice gift. At midnight a new year begins, everything cyclical.
Here, a cluster of stone red-roofed cottages, and more of those trees with the art nouveau branches. There's a rock—huge!— out, away from the shore. It looks like a great fat sleeping bear. The mist hangs above the land in swaths, like smoke suspended in the calm of an afternoon pub. Some beautiful old stonework houses… Continue reading Like smoke suspended in the calm
The rain has stopped. The men from next door are talking neighborly, I can hear them now I’ve just opened the window. I like the sound of tires on the still-wet pavement as a car goes by. A quiet section of the city, this last handful of blocks before the cemetery bisects the avenue, not to… Continue reading Scaffolding for memory
From a congress of reeds along the water’s edge A white crane rose on a silent vector— horizon-wise...
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
Sometimes I feel as though I’m steering a ship with no map, no stars to navigate by, and the most frustrating thing is that there’s no way to even ask for a map, for stars. You’re just there, adrift in the darkness, hoping that the next piece of intel will crack some code, provide you… Continue reading Cardinal directions
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 