Saturday, September 29, 2007


Have you heard of helium-3? If not, you will. The race is on...

Friday, September 28, 2007

Tao de Ching~ on shapes

The Way has no true shape,
And therefore none can control it.
If a ruler could control the Way
All things would follow
In harmony with his desire,
And sweet rain would fall,
Effortlessly slaking every thirst.

The Way is shaped by use,
But then the shape is lost.
Do not hold fast to shapes
But let sensation flow into the world
As a river courses down to the sea.
Example of what the Columbia River plume front looks like.At certain phases of the tide, the boundary between the river and oceanwater is visible as a long foam line between brownish water from the riverand more grayish or bluish water from the ocean

Thursday, September 27, 2007

suburban sunrise 9-27-07

suburban sunrise 9-27-07, originally uploaded by Sea Dream Studio.

Another glorious morning in the 'burbs. Perfect temperature. And last night's full moon still lodged in my eye's memory.
I've gotten lots of art done this week... and a mountain of soldering. It's all good...

Monday, September 24, 2007

Is this what we have to look forward to???

Good grief~ 80-something years old and no sweets??? Why bother to stick around.

Friday, September 21, 2007

friggin' dogs...

Sally befriends a frog/toad (??? which is it???)... And why is that damn thing in one of my cereal bowls???
Lexy works on ruining the sofa...
Patches in deep denial of the fact that he is almost 15 yrs. old. He's the Hef of dogs. Sally and Lexy are his biotches.

These damn dogs... They conspire. Something is always coming out of one of them... some substance that I am required to remove. This, in no way, adds to the quality of my life. Why do I have animals in my house? They are good dogs, but not a one of them has saved a life, which to me is the hallmark of a really good dog. I mostly love them, but not entirely, not like I should. But they are sweet... my good puppies... sigh...

Thursday, September 20, 2007

bad Santa

I loved the darkroom, the tang of those fierce chemicals in that small, closed up space, the glowing red timer. There was a feeling of alchemy in watching my father lift the wet prints with long wooden tongs, seeing faces swim into view. He printed 8 x 10s and 5 x 7s, clipped them to a wire to drip dry.

One year he took Santa pictures at the strip shopping center near our house. Outside of Grant's an iritable, ugly Santa sat in a outhouse-sized building, taking shivering children into his unwelcoming lap. My father, frozen, no doubt, snapped away for hours that December, weeknights and all day Saturday. Not one print caught that reluctant Santa with the hint of smile. Mostly he looked like he wanted a drink. The children were mainly oblivious, but some, you could tell, felt the chill of that creepy Santa. It was there, in those silvery prints, a uneasiness that hovered about their eyes.

Years later my younger sister would confide that the Santa at Grant's had slipped his fat, cold fingers into her panties. She was five.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

more big sky country

big sky country, originally uploaded by Sea Dream Studio.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Flickr of fortune

fortune, originally uploaded by Sea Dream Studio.

Oh, I love all these fortune teller images! Hope you like them, too!

big sky country

Another walk to Will's bus stop and another spectacular sunrise. Do you see the butterfly in the lower photo? I swear, unless it is overcast, every sunrise and sunset in north Texas is amazing. My neighbors must think I'm wacky always taking pictures of the sky. Oh, well...

Saturday, September 15, 2007

must see TV...

Orozco: Man of Fire
Wednesday, September 19, 2007 9 - 10:00 pm PBS
Often thought of as the other Mexican muralist, beside his more
flamboyant compatriot Diego Rivera, Orozco was a leader of the
Mexican Renaissance. His bold, dynamic frescoes had a profound
impact on American painters and inspired U.S. President
Franklin D. Roosevelt to put artists to work during the Great
Depression. (CC, Stereo)

Learn more at the companion Web site.

Friday, September 14, 2007


What of our offerings, the beautiful,
and the profane? We come together
at this altar, this place of desire
and peril, seeking, saving, holding
dear the wounds and roses we have gathered.

There are prayers for illumination,
another for the falling of a veil.
We remember a soft inflection
that brings a river of regret,
a certain shade of blue, a cornflower

glance across an infinite prairie.
We bear them up, our own relics,
the mundane, the nearly grand,
the hoped for, the abandoned.
These are our moments, pale petals

of open flesh we tender over
fraught waters. Often it is a cast
of light or a scent of limes and tallow
that brings us to our knees, some snare
that falls into our path and conjures

an hour when we rested in the hand
of mercy. There now, we find a way
to sleep and dream these things,
that we might breathe and endure
in this thin and unforgiving air.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

port of call

Off the scalloped coast of Brewer’s Bay
I offer my gouache bones to the sea,
narrow blades and arcs beneath my tan.
This water owns me as it owns millions

of mirror-scaled fishes and anemones.
My heartbeat mimics the docile waves,
a syncopated affirmation; I am here.
The seabed is smooth, so close, I wonder

about the need for air. Could I stay
within this perfect blue, a glint
of sunlight or a ripple in the sand?
My cocktail waits, coconut
and Callwood, the local libation.

I am just a day-tripper, another migrant
with sandy feet. It is impossible
to remain, not all of me, only the part
that is rooted, a slender white cedar
on the cloudy crest of Sage Mountain.

meanness~ from the Tao de Dale

Okay, I will confess that there are many things in this world that I do not understand... compressed air, crop circles, flight, fundamentalists, algebra, Iowa... and so forth, but the hardest thing to wrap my mind around is meanness. Intentional ugliness. Of course I've hurt people with my selfishness, carelessness, inattention. There is often collateral damage in the way we live, but directed, premeditated cruelty is a whole other thing. I've seen it in thinly veiled as humor and boldly wielded like an ax. I suppose it comes from a damaged place within the perpetrator. I think perhaps it is best to feel compassion for such people as their spirits must be deeply marred.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007


Ah, much better now... having found wonderful elements with which to create! What a glorious day. I have decided to be benevolent and forgive the seasons for changing. Very generous of me, no? I love a fruitful search, a moment of joy. This will do nicely for today.

on the rim

Maybe I've had too much coffee (ha! as if!), but this is one of those tenuous feeling days. Sort of wobbly and vulnerable... yuck! Don't like it. I think it's the coolness in the air, the dreadful hint of autumn. It does not delight me. No, not so much...

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

easily amused...

Ah, Mr. Waffle puppets~ There was a time when these would have provided me with an embarrassing amount of joy and entertainment value.
A Baggie with a face~good enough.

Patriot's Day

Went to the observation at Will's school. Very touching to see all the kids singing. Some of the youngest ones weren't even born until after 9/11. These two boys were so sweet. They kept their hands over their hearts for the entire ceremony and just kept grinning at each other.
I drove home listening to Gen. Petraeus speaking to the Senate on Iraq. God, what a mess. How do we unravel such a tangled knot? So much sorrow....

Monday, September 10, 2007

In Kyoto

My restless sleep is shantung now.
I have mislaid the weightless surrender
that held no knots or slubs. Instead
I touch the poorly stitched threads
of recollection that unravel at my touch.

You bound me once in fine jacquard,
the raw fiber spun with thrust and verse.
I was a curled leaf in your brocade
cloak, gladly woven near the root
of a stunted maple that arched
across your back. It was enough
then to rest in a raised shadow
that your fingers sometimes found

Do you wear me still, tangled
in the lace petals of a plum
bower, waiting for winter
to reveal my face? Bamboo
and pine cover your sleeves
of snowy silk. How supple
they are in the icy wind.

It is August and I toss beneath
an unembellished sheet. In my dream
I am sewing arabesques and drifts
of frozen flakes up and down
the night-hued lining of your haori.

kick ass video

Thursday, September 06, 2007

magic words



Saturday, September 01, 2007

I am not a superhero...

but I wanna' be one! I am trying to save the world (well my little enclave of it, anyway) and honestly, it is a bit harder than I'd imagined... but, no worries, my minions. Justice and prosperity will prevail! Have no fear... un-super me is on the job 24/7!
And... I have had an insomnia-born epiphany (and we all know how reliable those are!). I do actually think I've figured out something quite grand!! Time will reveal all. Now, back to work!

Limitless~ from the Tao De Ching

The Way is a limitless vessel;
Used by the self, it is not filled by the world;
It cannot be cut, knotted, dimmed or stilled;
Its depths are hidden, ubiquitous and eternal;
I don't know where it comes from;
It comes before nature.