What of the Ocean?

What of the ocean
were it not for the rocks?

A bunch of salt & fishes?

What of man,
goddamn him?

Fotos found yesterday at La Lagunilla market, Mexico City.


AS My Homeless Puppet Making Friend would say...
..."I Think You Dropped Something".

It Doesn't matter from whence you came,
or how by who for what you're named,
how cool you look, or sharp you dress
in tidy order or uncouth mess.
In the know, without a clue
with hearts in love with what we do,
no wrong is wrought, or life untrue.
dear friends I bid you all adieu.

"Oh yeah, all right
Are you going to be in my dreams

And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make."-P.M.

Gratitude for Growing Things

Dear Lovers,

The sun is setting here now. I was just hanging out in the garden here at Casa Libre where there is a newly constructed arbor covered in a grape vine. The sky is less pink tonight than it has been in recent weeks, but no less beautiful. I was thinking of how I wanted to end this project for myself and for you.

I am thinking about the cycle of things. I am thinking about the sun rising and setting, the grape vine that grew from a 3 foot seedling into a massive cape of green, about the dark that tuns into light and back into dark. About coming together and pulling apart of people and lives and bodies, of chances, changing seasons, what papa used to say, smooth flights, heartmind music, drifting, gold coins, trains, glove boxes, prisoner of war camps, car wrecks, other selves, lovers, Alchemy, Mexico, birthdays, dancing, elk hyde drums, "beast" pumps, psychography, job hunting, making out in orchards, teeth, hobos, exile, witnesses, daydreams, good news, language, sacrifice, naming animals, bike rides, hot dogs, days, nights, sunsets, memories of house parties, sex, irish whiskey, libraries, poetry, warriors, classes, dancing again, wolves, excess, overflow, promises, bumper stickers, kids, tough girls, apples, houses, parks, music, babies, questions, suffering, burning embers, 20 dollar bills, ice, kitchens, power, the Miss Fantastics, Lacey, black books, wind, wanderlust, cans of fresca, breakfast, dads, godparents, migrations, boardwalks, work, perros, set lists, excerpts, earth, apologies, notes, fiber, fish, birds, pleases and squeezes, death, bedrooms, villages, here, magic stuff, luminous events, haircuts, lottery, motorcycles, bike lanes, Clairvoyance, Logic, summer nights, eavesdropping, rising creeks, truth, mornings, dismemberment, teasing, Alabama, references, hearts, bangs, paint, rabbits, missives...

Beginnings and Endings. All of the things that have made up our last twenty days together. I am grateful to have shared this space with all of you. I appreciate the attempts to push how this shared community exists in space. To seek/destroy definition. To collaborate/communicate/connect. To balance rawness and craft.

Thank you, Bo.
Thank you, Camille.
Thank you, Malcolm.
Thank you, Melissa.
Thank you, Selah.
Thank you, Kristen.
Thank you, Mickey.
Thank you, Thirza.
Thank you, Sharon.
Thank you, Logan.
Thank you, Deborah.
Thank you, Adam.
Thank you, JenMarie.
Thank you, me.
Thank you, Travis.
Thank you, Angela.
Thank you, Kate.
Thank you, Soham.
Thank you, Rick.

"We have come into the presence of the one
who was never apart from us. When someone chews
sugarcane, he is wanting this sweetness.

Inside the globe the sound roars like thunder.
And now silence, my strict tutor." ~Rumi (from Meadowsounds)

With Love in All Directions,


This space will remain private for a few more weeks. On October 1st, I will send you an email to let you know that it is going public again. Feel free to delete anything you've shared here, that you don't want to go public. Then I hope you visit this space like a photo album. A memory of a shared journey. For me, my people, this has been one fantastic ride.

    a chance blindness

    just looked the sun right in the sunset and stared until it was gone. I still have spots where my sight should be. Gold and fuchsia ringlets.

    We were really here, weren't we?

    (gratitude and blessings to Kristen for organizing and contributing and all of you for sharing)

    changing seasons

    No profound last-day thoughts. Had a random visit from high school friend and her girlfriend on road trip. They cooked and drove me around in their car and I felt young and excited. packet came back from advisor. walked my dog. milked the goats. now, 110 pages of editing for the pitkin review. tori amos, to continue the high school revival.

    thanks, everyone, for screaming into the chasm and bridging the divide and having discourse.

    Are your seasons changing, too?

    papa used to say "dream i love you princess"

    kristen, what a wonderful gathering you arranged. thank you, everyone.


    It's been lovely to share this space with you.

    so many, so long

    so many trees.
    so much light.
    so many long shadows
    to go.




    I drift                      I drift                                                                          I drift
    I center

                                                  I lift
    I drift

       drip                                                                  I drift

    I drift in

    I wander I stray 
    I drift 
    I dare I stare 
    I need 
    I want to drift 
    I admit I 
    (need) want to drift to 
    I scare 
    I dare you


    Wishing you all smooth flights, clearly illuminated pathways, and signs facing the right way.

    gold coins

    Digital Drugs

    yo! where can I score some I-Dose?
    You have to download that shit!
    How do I take it?
    Put it in your ear!

    ....Just rocked I-doser "hand of God" and um.... well... I took some aspirin. and I feel numb to the world.
    hmmmm. ..kids getting high on music...hmmm...what a novel idea...
    WTF---- the new gateway drug! "How my second life high became a real world drug problem"
    That's right folks!..DIGITAL DRUGS!!!!!!


    He imagines or remembers the train.


    In the tiny upstate city where we lived, no businesses were shuttered, including her and I’s. The war-boom left no empty windows. His house situated at the back of the thriving shoe shop we ran when he was away. The store front near brand new. Still some broken glass. Through the angled windows, coming back from the market, I saw them reunited. First dusk, he came to me on the couch. He held one arm around me, the other across the front of me. This hand innocently tucked in skirt’s waistband. We slept like siblings, sitting up. In his sleep, he moaned in what seemed another language. We never asked what he saw from the sea. I slipped back into dreams. Just above my knee, a worm the color of my skin, mouth like a lamprey. Or was the worm simply my skin? Mouth a quarter inch wide. I was afraid but started to pull. Round balls of skin, connected like little sausages, one after another after another after another. The strand seemed endless. Finally what I pulled out was a string of beads on fishing line. I woke again, they stood at the bedroom door. Her blue dress with wide skirt, a pinafore, covered in white polka dots. Why was she dressed like this in the middle of the night? Call me The Sailor, he said. Do you know how many times I got on that ship?

    Note: point of departure: http://flashfiction.net/2010/09/friday-flash-prompt-carol-guess.php.

    This type of chorus is called a burden.

    Most ballads can be sung to the tune of a hundred other ballads.

    particle or wave, sangres?