Ivanka and Kim

Covid Chart

Ruben E. Farias, COVID

Scraps for Last Piece

Starry Nite

The earth is a collection of discrete objects, each of which is a collection of discrete objects, until finally we just have energy. This is the way of the universe. And these collections are constructed. When some say "no thing" maybe they should say "no thing, just collections" while recognizing that the collections aren't really there but are just in our minds.

Dog

Nail Clipper

Man on Side

Teeth

To Kim Mosley's “Teeth” 

Lively, happy, the Earth. 

But, no, a screaming face 

a furry man with an extra arm sending out waves of energy

a gaping whale and a gaping ghost.

Near them, coming up and out, a camel 

a man-phoenix 

a slug, a horn, the numerals 2 2 7.

Reality in all its ways—real and unreal,

spinning into numbers and dunes

breakfast and the phantasmagoria of the mind.

Out of the movement of water 

a whole that lasts a moment or a day.

—Sarah Webb

Crowd

My Kandinsky... from point to line to space

Magnifier

Sprayer and Woman

Sprayer

Lid

Mona

Buddha's Flower

I’m not sure how this all happened. I started school when I was three or so. Now it is 71 years later and I’m still in school. I wonder what it would be like to not be in school, to not be learning, to not be starting from zero every morning? I wonder what it would be like to know something? To really know something? Not to just repeat what someone has told me but to understand it deep in the recesses of my heart and soul? Like “intimacy.” I probably first heard that word in my teens. And I’ve had some brief glimpses of connection. But being intimate with life itself is especially trying. There are those precious moments but I also feel like there are a million miles between where I am and the connection for which I long.

I don’t really want this challenge to be met. What would I do then? I thought that I wanted knowledge. Later I would have settled with understanding. Now it is something different. I think the best way I can describe it would be “not separate.” The Buddha held up a flower. One of the monk “gets it.” Can anyone else really “get it”? It is one of those teachings, without a word, where there are connections ad in·fi·ni·tum. Is that intimacy? Did Buddha and his monk share a realization with a glance. Was there any separation? Was the Buddha the flower? Was the monk the flower? Was the flower the flower? Were they all one, not separate, and also not one? So back to school now, feeling like the greyhound that is just inches away from that rabbit. So close and yet the faster he runs, the faster it runs. Is that fair?

3 Sleeping Screws

Jesus's Elixir

Face