not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Friday, July 5, 2013

the vegetable

my computer is old, cranky, temperamental, slow.  i try to open old images and the computer's motor whorls, works, goes uphill and down, to the breakdown of time and space, out into numbers and dashes and pulls back images from the ether.  i wait.  one photo.  and then another opens.  there you are, my son younger, my lover not yet my husband.  you are on the shore of a great lake and in the first photograph together in what i know is the tunneled cold.  you heft a log.  oh my, what will happen?  in the next, incrementally, as the luxury of technological photography allows, you move your arms in tandem a fraction backward, swing the pendulum of girth and weight effortlessly now, although i see the evidence in the history of your shoulders and knees.  open, open!  i want the next image to open!  i want to see what you will do, what you have done, what i already know and even then knew.  you will set the log sailing through the air and then splashing into the cold water.  but it comes over me, the desire to see again, to witness the unfolding of the simple event, not in my mind but through my body! and i am filled as though with the longing to eat a fresh vegetable, one i can not identify nor name but a vegetable stubborn, resolute like the cantankerous radish, the jerusalem artichoke, the turnip, something difficult and notable, but how i want to - how i want to - like a revelation of flesh, the translation of the earth's soil - eat it!  as i wait, i salivate.  as i wait, it is all that i am, this hunger for the vegetable, food of the earth, natural progression through earth's time, born into skin!  but not all that i am for if i separate the thing from its shadow i am starving for the hunger too and desirous to hold it all a moment in my mouth, to have taste break inside my being into being and to know it absolute, beforebeforebefore before the unforgivable swallowing.


  1. I've never heard computer technology sound so grounded before, like it is a thing and not a mere extension of our fantasy selves. I do believe it takes, as you suggest, time away from us, in subtle ways -- the present moment becoming something to be jettisoned into the desire this box promises.

  2. I'm going to the garden to pick the onions, before it gets warmer, your words with me, I would understand the full meaning though I know that's impossible we are too complex, achieving even understand myself to pretend to understand others.
    Fortunately I recognize the beauty.
    A big hug.

  3. exactly: "...before the unforgiving swallowing." xo

    "When told the reason for Daylight Saving time the old Indian said, "Only a white man would believe that you could cut a foot off the top of a blanket and sew it to the bottom of a blanket and have a longer blanket."' ~Author Unknown

  4. Ah, you hit many keys with this one!

  5. erin, Gracias, this is gard to swallow.

    ...beforebeforebefore before the unforgiving swallowing.

    Gracias, mi amiga

  6. This cross section of life, and the beautiful perspective on digital images with their essence redeemed, unfolds as sweetly as you do. Sacred anticipation, the desire to eat all of this life, the progression of moments ... oh dear girl, you send me.

  7. Ton écriture énigmatique ressemble à tes créations photographiques. Le charme est la qui opère sans pouvoir dire exactement pourquoi. Peut-être est-ce du à la rareté de l’œuvre, à la pureté des sentiment exprimés sans calcul et qui nous entrainent dans ton monde? J'aime retrouver tout cela ici qui me parle de toi.


  8. the full meaning is that longing takes many forms, breaking any barriers between it and that which is desired, and makes all things one. my longing to see history revealed is the same as my longing to see the future is the same as my longing to know which is the same as my longing to experience which is the same as my hunger which is all that i am/we are...

    thank you everyone for granting me such patience:) this is real for me, not a construct or play, and i see that you consider it truly for a moment. it's more than i could ask for.

    a part of my longing is to see and understand how you long too. i will never tire of asking. please tell me.

    (i am away too much these days with work and when i am not at work i am trying desperately to be present. i touch you all gently.)



"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))