Friday, January 2, 2004



inside the eye of night 
a primeval ligature of well-muscled sky 
against the unseen void
enter a smoky tunnel
and when you get to the root of it,
how we associate life, 
and pooled water with all that blue.

all root and nerve,
the crack between worlds
where rogue planets coalesce,
burn an afterimage on the retina
leaving the optic nerve hungry 
for more mirror images.
no to mention the blind spot
or the mind playing tricks.

tracings of veins, 
shadows against the back wall of the eye
dendritic highways
ghost image and counter image
that feeling of not alone
as if someone else in an empty room
the almost as if seen
what constitutes reality
scripted or unscripted?
foreshadow and aftershadow
rods and cones
intimate not greens and not reds

to which point do the bird’s thoughts retract?

descending into a smoky tunnel
background noise bricking up a pristine silence

At that time between day and night 
when everything is crepscular in notion, 
and the Cole Porter violin cresendo swells,
opens the doors between worlds, 
is where the limnal and the real world collide, 
where we dream, where we drift, 
where you’re not sure where you’re going 
or where you’ve been, 
living both lives simultaneously.
Meanwhile, a petty dictator gets in the way of truth.


Thursday, January 1, 2004

Write Faster Than You Can Think

Write faster than you can think. just push the pen across the page like a cloud with oars sailing across the sea of hope. The mishearing, the misrepresentation, often more interesting than the original. Poets' ears think different. We are all damseled about because that is the nature of things, to uncover an old poem, relics from the past, buried treasure in the attic of the subconscious. Freud would have a field day fixing the poets, and then what?

From my Writers' Group

Cyclamens silk (art)

These cyclamens were for a SSU art exhibit, It took me a few tries to get it right. I always work from real flowers, so imagine my surprise when a snail crawled out of the pot.

Habotai silk, metallic gutta, salt, and dye; 9.5" silk hoops. 

I was asked to make a square for a quilt for Neil's ashram gardener who was retiring. This was the first cyclamen I drew. Habotai silk, metallic gutta, salt, and dye; 8x8".

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