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

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

to trace ice on glass (touching my husband's body)

to trace ice on glass

while outside the world shifts

i am neither brave nor depraved

i am the victim of this journey

joyfully   painfully   joyfully 

Saturday, January 25, 2014

scenes of grave consequence, v

in the dim daylight of the snow the world dissolved into whiteness, the electric poles, the trees, the farms, even the road before us and i knew this was honest, but at night outside the windows everything dissolved completely into darkness.  this new kind of dissolve moved from outside the windows into our very bodies, a kind of pixelating, so uncannily close to the self we could no longer see the self.  in this world we could no longer believe we knew who we were anymore.  and so as the car hummed, not along the edges of our bodies which we could no longer discern, but as it hummed instead through them, we recognized this most blessed state.  from this new vantage point, no longer limited, we might understand the anything never considered before.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

being human, an investigation, new year 2014

what is there to learn?  and is there someone telling me?  or am i alone to determine what it is to be human? and can i learn?

this christmas season i traveled along indiana back roads and on those back roads i saw trees through blowing snow both being and nonbeing, wavering upon the threshold.

how i long to be solid like a tree. 

and how deliciously i too waver.

each new year it seems to be my new practice to try to touch this place of being through the naked body.

my body is as significant as a table or a window and as insignificant too.  where once i might have been shy, i realize now that there is nothing to be shy about.  i do not own this accidental body.  it has very little to do with me except to house that which i am for now.

these photographs are my new year's celebration.

i long to lay things upon the table.  and i long to throw open the window.

what is it to be human?  is there someone telling us or are we alone to determine?

what can we learn?

Sunday, January 12, 2014

drifting snow, saudade's susurration

yesterday's snow
perfectly windblown to the height of its arc
sundering field from road
                                     with voluptuous protrusion

as woman's thigh, warm and persuasive,  hangs to her personage
as vowel sculpts consonant and begs of sound meaning

                                     and tomorrow, rain.

Friday, January 10, 2014

the world fulfills itself

"Landscape's a lever of transcendence-

Who among us will step forward?"

(from Charles Wright's "Apologia Pro Vita Sua", Black Zodiac)