Thursday, May 28, 2020

A dream of a swan


and the first time I tasted fried eggs in Amsterdam as dinner.  An image links memory & dream.  No small feat.  Much like a few words for a sentence.  A few ingredients enliven last night dinner's leftovers.  Isn't possession, unruly?

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Perspective on the otherworldly



Artichokes are like succulents.  Fractal and otherworldly.  So mesmerizing, they demand to be counted like each step as you approach them.  Some things otherworldly are edible.  Artichokes, in particular.

Monday, May 25, 2020

I love my refrigerator


My refrigerator is an abstract landscape.  Then again, is landscape ever a truly abstract experience.  This is certain, pandemic writing has a different gesture-palette,  palate, and pallet, for sure.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

Eating trees for breakfast


Yup, pandemic cuisine.  Pasta for breakfast.  Toasted & red-pepper flaked walnuts, Parmesan, lemon zest, lemon juice, lots of mint & blistered broccolini.  When I take a walk later, I'll pay special attention to trees and consider how they appear to birds.

Thursday, May 21, 2020

Perhaps, this is what insight looks like...


Or perhaps, a match struck?   Perhaps, neither.  Or both?

Monday, May 18, 2020

Friday, May 15, 2020

Reading landscape


or the joys of the unexpected.  Which is nothing less that reading -- whatever.  The unexpected almost always makes me smile, brings me joy.  Much like the unexpected ping of pepper or bite of lemon peel in a dish.  Unexpected yet welcomed.  Or a few words placed on a page as an unexpected landscape waiting to be read.  Pure unexpected joy.  Of course, walking is a state of reading -- whatever.

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Eyes in a forest


see what is around and within.  The confluence of trees, sky & all things flowering.  Much like a recipe sees and feels all the ingredients swirled together to make a cohesive whole.  Now, think of the eyes which an alphabet possesses.  An alphabet  sees the poem as it is being created.  Quite magical, wouldn't you say?

Monday, May 11, 2020

When tomorrow arrives


one of my happy places opens
up. I will see  succulents awash with bloom & rain drops.  
I anticipate the shape of each fractal much like a poem or the scent of something yummy.
I wish the same for you.  
Bancroft Gardens, Walnut Creek.  

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Trees create shadow sculptures



Mutable calligraphy
dependent on time
& the measure 
of sun
offers the future
possibility 
of picnics.


Tuesday, May 5, 2020

Seeing is situational


and emotional especially when trying to discern a narrative.  Just let the gesture be the gesture of the moment.  Let a carrot be a carrot.  Let a few lines on a page, be the poem.  Let Spring speak.

Monday, May 4, 2020