when i don't want things to be too thin

Two good books are swallowing me whole—anam cara and beauty the invisible embrace both by John O’Donohue. Each was loaned to me by one of my beloved grand girlfriends because she’s been watching me wavering between wallowing in the funk of aging and basking in a joy I’ve not know which seems to infuse me as I shuffle down this path.

A couple of quotes are helping me find my footing…I’ve smushed them into one.

“when you accumulate experience at such a tempo [were greed for destination obliterates the journey] everything becomes thin.”

How do I obliterate? What are the destinations I obliterate? What is it that I am trading for destination? What is the fear that accelerates me to my destination and therefore bypass the journey? Will I blink and be done?

i weep

the caress of blue, bluer
the kiss of the wind, richer
the depth of the pools
in the shadows of remnant souls
in which i swim
more liquid with sounds
laughter and grief

again i weep
where is this well
of the rivulets of salt
that stream hot
spring

i am ice
how is it
that i melt
that i become
less vacant
less lost

making stems
from my angst
if i slide
into the embrace
of the beautiful
that is so swift
to steal me
into its arms
of sheer grace,
that breathes
open my heart
so unexpectedly

if it awakens in me, joy
where then will
my work manifest
who will i be
who am i
the ground shifts
below my feet
how is this so

i weep
so afraid
of striping
this thing
i’ve found
of its goodness

yet
my life
is better
for this
ache

The Empty BOX event images

Dean and Mari took great shots...check out the gallery

...once unthinkable

...once unthinkable. 9' x 4' x 6'. ~400 pds. remnant windows, tubes, baling wire, thread. 2008. on view at the Houston Arts Alliance, space 125 gallery, through August 8, 2008.

Latest BOX 13 project

We are beginning to take the BOX back to some of it's original 1948 colors, like a minty institutional hospital green--just lovely.

the mysterious spousal unit many have assumed to be fictitious

he thinks artists are weird and yet here he is covered in oatmeal.
go figure. performance art perhaps. Awe, but he is a good man. :-)

grrrrr.

i NEED to make art or write or do SOMETHING besides think. my hands need to be moving to force me outside of my own head and onto a single doable trail that wont leave a wake of destruction. my feet can't seem to find ground. i am so distracted, it makes it hard to take anything to completion! dang if i am not stuck in my own head and can't get out! Perhaps my T3 is still just a wee bit high (this does not refer to the rise of the machines).