Saturday, March 31, 2012

Points of Departure























































































































what
are you leaving
are you leaving behind
what is
the point 
of departure
ask yourself
when
you arrive

Sunday, March 25, 2012

The Shape of Things















Spring starts with late hours of sunlight that chafe the inward spirit. Then rain. Then heat. Do, more, out, see, world. It is the curse of a temperate, insistent, envied city.









I keep reading the message on today's calendar and it slips from my mind. No focus, no commitment. I wash from one to another project, craving the transcendence of art - strong swathes of color, the rhythm of texture, image, sound. A play of light. A shift of emotion. I crave wordless space. The wordless admixture of faith, aggression, ambition, and love that is the alchemy of a resting heart.






I do not know what this season will bring. I fell asleep this afternoon with palm fronds ripping eastward against the soft gray sky. I woke to a layer of blue slicing through the southward view: holding a space between rooftops and cloud as I stood listless before my kitchen window.








I do not know the shape of things.