Monday, April 30, 2012

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Friday, April 27, 2012

Thursday, April 26, 2012

C├ęsar Vallejo - Confidence in glasses, not in the eye…Transl. Clayton Eshleman, 
Confidence in the glasses, not in the eye; in the staircase, never in the step; in the wing, not in the bird and in yourself alone, in yourself alone, in yourself alone. Confidence in wickedness, not in the wicked; in the glass, but never in the liquor; in the corpse, not in the man and in yourself alone, in yourself alone, in yourself alone. Confidence in many, but no longer in one; in the riverbed, never the current; in pants, not in legs and in yourself alone, in yourself alone, in yourself alone. Confidence in the window, not in the door; in the mother, but not in the nine months; in destiny, not in the gold die, and in yourself alone, in yourself alone, in yourself alone.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012


We ate the birds. We ate them. We wanted their songs to flow up through our throats and burst out of our mouths and so we ate them. We wanted their feathers to bud from our flesh. We wanted their wings, we wanted to fly as they did, soar freely among the treetops and the clouds, and so we ate them. We speared them, we clubbed them, we tangled their feet in glue, we netted them, we spitted them, we threw them onto hot coals, and all for love, because we loved them. We wanted to be one with them. We wanted to hatch out of clean, smooth, beautiful eggs, as they did, back when we were young and agile and innocent of cause and effect, we did not want the mess of being born and so we crammed the birds into our gullets, feathers and all, but it was no use, we couldn’t sing, not effortlessly as they do, we can’t fly, not without smoke and metal, and as for the eggs we don’t stand a chance. We’re mired in gravity, we’re earthbound. We’re ankle-deep in blood, and all because we ate the birds, we ate them a long time ago, when we still had the power to say no.
Eating the Birds
Margaret Atwood, Eating the Birds from “The Tent”

Monday, August 15, 2011

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Friday, August 12, 2011

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Monday, August 08, 2011

Saturday, August 06, 2011

You Reading This, Be Ready

You Reading This, Be Ready

Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?

Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?

When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day. This interval you spent
reading or hearing this, keep it for life -

What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?

~ William Stafford ~

Monday, June 30, 2008

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Friday, November 16, 2007

Friday, November 02, 2007

Friday, September 14, 2007

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Friday, July 13, 2007

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Friday, February 09, 2007

Monday, January 29, 2007

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Sunday, December 31, 2006

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Monday, November 13, 2006

Friday, November 03, 2006

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Monday, October 30, 2006

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Saturday, October 28, 2006


active energy

Friday, October 27, 2006

the impossible

Needless to say, one more time, deconstruction if there is such a thing, takes place as the experience of the impossible.


Thursday, October 26, 2006

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
(second half)

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.

Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

~ Wendell Berry ~

Monday, October 23, 2006

festina lente

hasten slowly

Saturday, October 21, 2006


"Live with skillful nonchalance and ceaseless concern."

~ Prajnaparamita Sutra ~

Friday, October 20, 2006

central sun

Trying to escape from the hypotenuse, in order to acheive a particular constellation of hebrides to the red giants and the central sun.

Max Beckmann

Thursday, October 19, 2006