geneology, 1995

geneology, 1996

quasimodo, 2010

cochrane, a detective in a short story i'm writing

cochrane, river

cochrane abhorred art. he could or could not think whatever he wanted about a piece of art. there was no real barometer, nothing but passing fancy. he needed to know more, know too much. motivation and direction came first. then as many details as he could ascertain, could absorb, until a whole and vibrant picture began to emerge, arc and trajectory and choice. he wasn’t willing to make the leap of faith that being an art lover seemed to require of him, to let go what he knew for what might be. he didn’t like the feeling he got, a lightness in the hands and feet, when he gave himself over to the idea of some thing being great. it was all important. and in that moment something in him felt ill and knew he was disregarding some insignificance that would mean much more to him in the end. as he studied the river’s edge, walking slowly from where the girl was found, his nose was filled with the smells of deep earth and soil and the rich mixture that fallen leaves release as they are displaced under foot. it was going to rain.

free-falling from space dream

free-falling from space dream, audio version. try the link above.

i am outside my ship - traveling with it tens of thousands of miles from earth,
in weightlessness.
i am alone among the stars - in the universe there is an excitement
and energy, an engagement. focus.
i begin to fall toward earth and am fully alive.
i free-fall, as the stars move and earth comes closer into view
i am pulled at full speed.

duhkham eva sarvam vivekinah

all is pain to those who discriminate

this needs a home here

this is my cousin john, and his sister, my cousin gail, gail's daughter abigail on the left and my son lukas playing the drum, my daughter treme is playing the xylophone, and off camera my son marek and gail's son jordan wrestle. as i was filming the kids together gail and treme began to play some music. after a few moments this voice enters the room and it is john, my brother, singing out this song he makes up for us all. he died not long after, and my beautiful cousin gail passed away as well. i love this little gift, this little thing. sing sing sing.

video:
i love you john and gail!

i dreamt of birds for the first time

i dreamt of birds, releasing from flowers, high up in the sky. by reaching up somehow i activated a birth process. the flowers were beautiful and many petaled, none would know a bird was enclosed. as it broke free from the coccoon of the flower it began to fly for the very first time, with a burst and a flap. i was in love with watching this happen, and then my daughter was beside me, she who loves all creatures and she was worried. watch, i said. and we marveled.

tuesday morning dream

'distances would make sense if they were allowed to be insane'

this occurred like a mantra before i awoke, coming from wherever that place is that these things come from.

a dream deferred is upon us

i dreamt of heads unearthed. statuary. it's jesus i said, st. benedict. his head was huge and angled and biblical. i leaned it back so that all could gaze upon it. what have i found in the rubble? below the surface prior gods announce and resign. below the date the inscription 'he brings the light into the world', or the word. the large earthen head, broken now, and by it's absence a body still buried, the buried body of the bringer of the word, still, one with the source - inseparable, unbroken and unseen. fool's gold looks like that sometimes, is disregarded when life itself moves with wings beneath its tease of solar shimmer.