must see TV...

AMERICAN MASTERS
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.

http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/

communion

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.

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.

jubilate!

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...

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....

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

http://musicjesus.com/videos/watch.php?video=SmVAWKfJ4Go

magic words

SEDATION DENTISTRY

sweetness

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.

naked eye

A flame red moon, the owl’s eye
winks, early fallen leaves
are dark confetti
on a well-kept lawn.

The eclipse has stolen my sleep,
tucked it away like a thief.
I am ever the lamb of the sky,
the easy mark, enthralled by cloud

and constellation. This night
it is the sharp edged umbra that enchants,
the nested shadows aligned,
Taurus and Orion on the eastern rise.

It is now, pale throat revealed,
upturned and empty, that I feel
most full, most able. The lucent coin
that hovers above is a portal.

In totality’s fire I dip my hands
and drink deep the lambent light,
a rendered radiance that bears
the sweetness of a pledge.

here's the problem...

that damn mammalian brain...

sky blog

Perhaps I should just devote this blog to the sunrise... since I'll be seeing it every morning. I really don't mind rising early. When I travel I am always up at dawn. I love seeing the day begin in new places. And Texas does rock when it comes to the sky. In no way does it compensate for how far I am from the ocean, but it is a fine thing and I appreciate it.

school days...

First day of school for my brood... There are some advantages to early rising. There are bunnies about and here in north Texas the mornings begin with a bit of fanfare in the sky.

I am left with a quiet house that feels very empty after nearly three months of summer vacation.

I do not like being a part of the mechanism that generates this sorrow.

attitude adjustment

Do I believe in HappyLand? Well, there it is in glorious black & white. It is (was?) in British Columbia of all God forsaken places. Hmmmm... the jury's still out, though I confess a bit of a leaning toward... not so much.
What do I believe in? Oh, I thought you'd never ask...
~the curative power of the sea
~flight
~music as a balm, a means of transport, etc...
~sailing
~scissors
~silence
~the Caribbean as a place of unparalleled magic and beauty
~secrets
~fairies, elves, talking animals (well, not really but I'd like it to be so)
~happy hour
~HappyLand... no, not so much.