It's True for Me...

Yoga Crustacean

2009-05-02T17:18:00.000-07:00

I need yoga so that I don't tighten up into a carapace exoskeleton lobster/crab crustacean of exquisite frozen rock-hard condensed agony in a body intended for external muscularity.

February 19, 2009

2009-02-19T13:45:00.000-08:00

Civilization is dulling my edge.

Assault is not the Same Thing as Tripping Over a Root: Rihanna Fenty/Chris Brown

2009-02-15T10:53:00.000-08:00

The words "stumble" and "trip" used repeatedly by Chris Brown's father, to characterize Brown's behavior, are terribly inappropriate. Rihanna didn't spend a day in the hospital because her boyfriend tripped over her, and I doubt that's how her neck or psyche feels as a result. My concern with this choice of words by Chris's father, is that they paint the physical incident really as negligible. I do, however, agree that the challenge, for Brown, of subduing an opponent the size of Rihanna actually is negligible. If he hopes to avoid "demonizing" himself, he should fight inside his weight classification. The fact is though, in terms of public opinion, this is, fairly, not a fight Chris Brown can win. Brown Sr. talks about his son's fans being "on his side" if they are "true fans," and hopes that they will "not judge" him for a momentary loss of balance. We all lose our balance, constantly, and recover, but if we lash out and cream the girl walking next to us on the sidewalk, and make threats on her life, at the same time, the consequences can be serious.

Light Story

2009-02-03T16:02:00.001-08:00

This is the story of the cool, clear, white light from the west at nearly four p.m.-- clear and cool, but somehow not very special--a steady light, a practical light on a windless, moderate day in Vancouver, early February, after the storms have all but passed, but spring has not yet opened its blossoms to breathe fragrant perfumes. Spring will soon notice the plainness of the surrounds along with their mildness, and seeing a space, which is what this light betokens, will excitedly leap into it, first one toe, an arched foot, a hand, calf, upper arm, and soon a smiling face will enter the ready scene to make festivity.

Hastings Mill Park Near Jericho Beach, Vancouver

2009-01-16T13:24:00.000-08:00

"George Eliot"/Mary-Anne Evans

2008-12-28T22:02:00.000-08:00

"There is a forsaking which still sits at the same board and lies on the same couch with the forsaken soul, withering it the more by unloving proximity."

Chapter 74: Middlemarch

Zakes Mda

2008-12-28T21:53:00.000-08:00

"'But we are a caravan of beautiful people. We should go first.'

'I can't help it if these people are poor,' said Toloki."

Ways of Dying

Jeanette Winterson

2008-12-28T21:52:00.000-08:00

"God doesn't judge a poor-woman by the state of her dress."

Sexing the Cherry

Oscar Wilde

2008-12-28T10:10:00.003-08:00

"Sentimentality is the sense that one can have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it."

Samuel Beckett

2008-12-28T09:41:00.000-08:00

"Don't call it absurd; just call it a mess."

Dickens

2008-12-27T22:00:00.000-08:00

"There they found Mr. Pitt turning up his nose at a cold collation, set forth in a cold pomp of glass and silver, and looking more like a dead dinner lying in state than a social refreshment."

Dombey and Son

December 22, 2008

2008-12-25T23:27:00.000-08:00

Even the sky is heavy with snow;

it is Monday morning,

but you wouldn't know

it; the world is low,

and heavily asleep,

weighed down by

two feet of sleet.

On every roof, a foot of icing,

on every bough, a cross section slicing

the snow through its five days' route,

and there on every single branch,

the setup for a miniature avalanche.

Pigeons Near Kitchen Windows

2008-11-30T17:34:00.000-08:00

The flutter and muscular flap

of competing pairs of wings on the roof.

The dancing

of three-toed feet,

and two or three cooing

throats' mutual reassurances.

Black Mango Hummingbird

2008-11-30T17:31:00.000-08:00

Sea horse in pencil

2008-11-24T17:55:00.000-08:00

The spines of the sea horse spring from its actual skeleton rather than being superficial nodules.

Frog Drawing

2008-11-11T13:48:00.000-08:00

At present, I am into frogs. I've always been into frogs, actually. I AM a frog. A lot of kids are afraid of frogs. I don't understand this because it's the frogs that should be afraid of people, not the other way around. Pretty soon, I'm going to move on to another animal--maybe--I don't know if I'm going to get sick of drawing frogs. It's really inexhaustible, though perhaps, I am not.

2008-11-11T13:38:00.000-08:00

Plump Frog

2008-11-10T21:54:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I don't want to concern myself about how my drawings look. I just want to get into the paper and the process. I have no idea if I should work more on this drawing or not.

Hospital/Superbug Deforestation

2008-11-07T15:23:00.001-08:00

Hospitals should be burned down every fifteen to twenty years, like forests, to get rid of all the germs that necessarily collect in them, before they are rebuilt on a different site. A forest should be planted on the old site to let the plants process and distribute any remaining microbes. When the forest finally burns itself down, another hospital could be built on the original site.

Some Picture Planes in my Studio

2008-10-26T18:42:00.000-07:00

Tree Frog on a Window Drawing

2008-10-24T21:02:00.000-07:00

This little drawing is done with marsgraphic markers on bristol. At first, it made me feel fairly redundant about doing anything realistic seeing as I had the photograph already, but it's still not photographic and all the little ways in which it fails to be perfectly realistic are what make it poetic, I think. That goes for anybody else's "almost realistic" drawings too, of course.

tree frog on a window

2008-10-24T20:47:00.000-07:00

My Face

2008-10-15T12:18:00.000-07:00

My face is not on.
Truth be told, I never had one,
and now how to speak?
For all I know my half mustache
is fallen left over my right nostril,
and my left mustache is frisking
its wig ends at a matron. Good faces

are either
made up, or naturally
well composed and colored,
but there are some faces
makeup only mocks, pointing out to the world
all-they-are-not;

it is also true that everything shows;
even hiding things shows.

We must therefore forget our faces
and be careless or decide on them
and be careful.

But to be careful and careless
in sequence
will fail,
and if your face has been taken
you could be in the position of:

a) staying home to ensure nothing else gets taken,
b) getting more pieces of you taken, or
c) alarming some generous person into taking you to a hospital.

Who I Am

2008-10-15T12:06:00.000-07:00

When he tells me my poetry isn't all there is to me, as if it were so little a thing, magnifying the parts he values, my caring, my understanding, my nurturing, as if this would be a consolation to me; when he tells me I am more than that, as if telling me a piece of better, warmer news; when he tells me poetry is a hobby; when he says it so comfortably, from within himself, so comfortable in himself and with what he is saying, I really have to wonder how he does it; how does he manage to stand there so easily and tell me who I am, so easily telling me who I am, as if
he knew
anything.

Alley Pose

2008-10-14T11:42:00.000-07:00

Still, the photographers
are taking pictures of women
standing in miserably tight clothes
like the waists of wasps and spiders' shells
they wear them
shining with a dark green sheen
eyes black as fawns
hair doll blonde
in alleys leaning on
bent arms,

one leg turned inwards,
downtown alleys where

they need leather
to their ankles
to protect them from
the pollution and sterility.

Professionals print onto

gold foil contact sheets

and laminate them in plastic
to create something new,
unfortunately,
that's the only thing
that's been updated.

Beauty

2008-10-14T11:38:00.001-07:00

A woman is a bit of a sure fire bet
for an artist who
hasn't much to say;
her beauty will attract attention
to the canvas,
undeniable beauty
and attraction.
No one can help looking,
and he becomes author
captures her,
trades on it,
but it isn't his beauty
it's hers. And this point is moot.

October Chestnut

2008-10-11T21:59:00.000-07:00

Bloody leaves
green purple
blossom new blood
in their crown,
supported by velvet antlers,
slick and mobile, just emerging
from illuminated streaks
of grass.

Living at Jericho

2008-10-11T21:58:00.000-07:00

The breeze at my back is cool, melted, salt silk.

September

2008-10-11T21:56:00.001-07:00

The maple's branches
and twigs are balding
into bronchi.

Caterpillar Season

2008-10-11T21:51:00.000-07:00

How he meanders,
lost in the air,
taking his chances
of getting somewhere,
lengthening down
the amenable string,
vanishes
utterly
this little thing.