Tuesday, June 2, 2015


Peering around my new best friend. Hiding behind her.  Isn't it true that our eyes reflect our friends.

A poppy reaching almost 5 feet.  Imagine that.

What's for dinner?  Something most colorful & rather showy.  To achieve balance, perhaps the next poem should be sedate.

Never.  Bring on more NBFs.

1 comment:

  1. cp 271

    A comment on a show, New Yorker, 3/9/15:

    "One point perspective, the foundational lie of Western painting, is a fixation of Paolini's."

    A comment on a show by John Zurier in the same issue:

    "Don't expect sublime landscapes; only only one of these fourteen works has anything like a horizon line....his (are) satisfyingly scuffed abstractions..."

    These comments strike me as a validation of my own biography series, or startle me into finding a horizon line, and could this apply to writing as well? Or will "perspective" take on a new definition as the centuries roll on. It's something to consider while eating pizza and seeing a friend's poppies in all their glory.