Thursday, June 28, 2018
the inanimate isn't. Full of sap & wind-wiggling branches. Roots a plenty. Seeking water & sun & the cooling of evening. She's a beauty, isn't she. More reliable than a guard dog, too. Let's have cold soup -- vibrantly blueberry-ish -- for lunch. We'll serve in small clear glasses with petite spoons. Let's send a poem out into the world which may or may not include the word "blueberry." There you have it.
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
Or what beets dream about. The confluence of ripening. Much like shaping a meal. Or shaping a poem. Pay attention to the tributaries -- real & imaginary. Learn to meander. Take up whistling.
Monday, June 25, 2018
Night shadow-izes plants. Converts their green leaves to shadows. Night offers a dream-state of a palette. Muted yet vivid by an absence. Or a lamp left on. The same can be said of editing a poem. The same is true for a subtle dish, perhaps beans.
Sunday, June 24, 2018
with basil. What's not to like when fava beans, tomatoes (yellow heirloom & red cherries), olive oil, salt, pepper hang out with basil. Your mouth is happy speaking the language of Spring into the first vowels of summer. Eyes & mouth concur: a simple colorful salad is a petite poem. Yup.
Monday, June 18, 2018
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Space between bars are like open windows to a bee. Seems a slim meal but sometimes it's what you don't see --
herbs in a sauce; all the words removed from a line of poetry.
Absence is a conveyance for lushness. What is our bee sipping on?
Agastache Kudos Mandarin. A perennial hyssop. Honey-mint-scented plumes. Pinkish orange. What's not to love? What's not to be smitten by?
Saturday, June 16, 2018
Friday, June 15, 2018
Thursday, June 14, 2018
Mute the color & still the vibrant, rainbow-hued stories are there. Don't ever think otherwise.
Although most times thinking otherwise is a good thing. By the way, what's a non-thing?
An additional "by the way," even in a b/w or sepia photo of food, the imagination is so hungry colors
vibrant & subtle appear. Silence does this to poetry, you know. But of course. And should you step on a shadow, nothing is broken; nothing cracked.
Monday, June 11, 2018
|kodiak wearing a classical tutu designed by Carmencito L.|
For the record, a peony is the matriarch of tutus. Speaking of tutus, there are two types: Romantic & classical. The one above is classical -- short, stiff material and extended horizontally at the waist. (The Romantic can reach ankle-bone & is made of softer more flowing material). Right now, I'm thinking of raspberries. Right now, I'm wondering what haiku lurks under the tutu. Oh, tut-tut.
Friday, June 8, 2018
When light & shadows are spun, you can find yourself in a state of sun-flowering! It's as simple as a wooden spoon stirring soup. A pen unloading Pandora's box of gestures. See, I know you'd understand.
Wednesday, June 6, 2018
also known as sallows or osiers. Soft, pliant, tough wood. A strong, vibrant life-force. And here in Walnut Creek, CA ten tons of willow imported from Vermont by commissioned artist Patrick Dougherty. (http://www.bedfordgallery.org/public-art/collection/patrick-dougherty). A must see. Like a meal with friends and conversation robust yet intimate. Like a new notebook with first gestures -- bold, skyward & deep into the earth. And always as with poems, meals or sculpture -- a window to see in, to see out.