The song of the day is Junkyard by Page France.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Poem
“One clear night while the others slept, I climbed
the stairs to the roof of the house and under a sky
strewn with stars I gazed at the sea, at the spread of it,
the rolling crests of it raked by the wind, becoming
like bits of lace tossed in the air. I stood in the long
whispering night, waiting for something, a sign, the approach
of a distant light, and I imagined you coming closer,
the dark waves of your hair mingling with the sea,
and the dark became desire, and desire the arriving light.
The nearness, the momentary warmth of you as I stood
on that lonely height watching the slow swells of the sea
break on the shore and turn briefly into glass and disappear …
Why did I believe you would come out of nowhere? Why with all
that the world offers would you come only because I was here?”
- “Black Sea” *by Mark Strand
Author of “BLIZZARD OF ONE”
guidebook for we of the lost and found.
and a man unafraid to wear red shoes with a casual evening suit.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Note to Self
Art requires attention to the work not the person.The most marvelous things happen when you don’t do anything but observe.
Hero
poor student. goofball.
probably best friends with God. Probably makes God laugh too much.
had an amazing sense of humor. maybe because “we are all emotionally at the level of the last grade we finished.”
oh…….also made it possible for every human being to understand the laws of physics and had this weird idea about relativity.
so I guess it’s a good thing he didn’t blow his parents money to party at nice schools.
my hero.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Original
there is enough evidence
so specific
I put my guard down
easily
once can never give birth
and
there is a fiery ring around my heart
I am different because you are so
I was used to a battle
but you
settled in so peacefully
your heart
a quiet warrior
my walls wait for your paint
my dreams are your substitutes
time can never forget your space
even when you are away
I drift into a narcoleptic state
when I return I create different ways of defining my impression
that I plan on leaving
never to fade away
-B
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