I'm a litte anticipitory over the bend in the wings. It seems like an
afterthought after shipping and receiving discovering the the plane
wouldn't fit into something.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Upon a Time
Once Upon a Time...
What's that, you ask?
"What is a TIME?"
Is a TIME a flat, smooth thing
that you have put your cup upon?
Is a TIME a slithery thing
that you would never step upon?
Is a TIME a smooshy thing
that you can rest your head upon?
Is a TIME a shining thing
that every night, you wish upon?
Is a TIME a spiraling thing
that you may climb upon?
Is a TIME a speeding thing
that you will ride upon?
TIMES are smooth, slithery, smooshy,
shining, spiraling, speeding things.
TIMES are whatever you need them to be,
And you have all of them you need.
So as I was saying,
"Once upon a TIME..."
Poem by Martha Burgin, Drawings by Kim Mosley
What's that, you ask?
"What is a TIME?"
Is a TIME a flat, smooth thing
that you have put your cup upon?
Is a TIME a slithery thing
that you would never step upon?
Is a TIME a smooshy thing
that you can rest your head upon?
Is a TIME a shining thing
that every night, you wish upon?
Is a TIME a spiraling thing
that you may climb upon?
Is a TIME a speeding thing
that you will ride upon?
TIMES are smooth, slithery, smooshy,
shining, spiraling, speeding things.
TIMES are whatever you need them to be,
And you have all of them you need.
So as I was saying,
"Once upon a TIME..."
Poem by Martha Burgin, Drawings by Kim Mosley
Friday, October 9, 2009
All things have their function.
"All things have their function.
It is a matter of use in the appropriate situation."
—Merging of Difference and Unity
It is a matter of use in the appropriate situation."
—Merging of Difference and Unity
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
One must have a mind of winter...
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
—The Snow Man, Wallace Stevens
Friday, October 2, 2009
Life can work....
"It's the fact that we want something...that makes our relationships so unsatisfactory. In a way, Life can work—but not from the standpoint that we are going to do something that will make it work."— Charlotte Joko Beck in Everyday Zen
Unnatural
I've been drawing the same thing for 51 years. Actually maybe 53. If one does different things, they are actually doing the same thing. How can one be doing different if they are just skimming the surface of one thing or another.
So I drove past some graffiti on a pole and it was terrible graffiti. The spray can must have been old and it was all watery. And then it dripped and dripped, and later it aged. Terrible. Yet in spite of all that, it was beautiful because of the way that nature had acted upon it (and told this story).
Then I wondered how I could make judgments about a drawing. As I drove past some grass with weeds I realized that nothing in nature is poorly designed. Even when we've finished a meal our plate is perfectly composed. Why? Because a natural force (eating) organized it. So what are doing when our art (or our life?) isn't working? Being unnatural?
So I drove past some graffiti on a pole and it was terrible graffiti. The spray can must have been old and it was all watery. And then it dripped and dripped, and later it aged. Terrible. Yet in spite of all that, it was beautiful because of the way that nature had acted upon it (and told this story).
Then I wondered how I could make judgments about a drawing. As I drove past some grass with weeds I realized that nothing in nature is poorly designed. Even when we've finished a meal our plate is perfectly composed. Why? Because a natural force (eating) organized it. So what are doing when our art (or our life?) isn't working? Being unnatural?
Thursday, October 1, 2009
...make me an instrument of Your peace.
"Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love." —St. Francis of Assisi
Where there is hatred, let me sow love." —St. Francis of Assisi
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Consider how the lilies grow.
"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these." —Luke 12:26-28
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Portland Max Light Rail to airport
Saw wonderful collection at Portland Art Museum guided by my relative/docent Sharon Tarlow. Thanks to Larry & Sharon for two special days in Portland.
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