About a year ago I had an interesting lucid dreaming experience that involved what I perceived to be a peek at the nature of nonlinear time and how it’s used to travel/transition in dreams. I had just left one dream scenario and found myself in a place where I was deciding where to travel next. I was observing a series of scenes, dozens of them, flicker by me in a line, moving right to left. [Read More]
Correspondence
This is a strange time, is it not my Queen? With the valley shrouded in pooling fog, the days have darkened and the Elk have been proving themselves increasingly difficult to be tallied. Their hooves have forked in three directions: where the Root drinks from the Vein, where the Tongue burrows into sand, and where the Stones From Afar circle The Forest’s edge. [Read More]
Driving Without Using Brakes
Driving without using brakes
means skill to judge speed and distance,
sniff out five cars in front of you,
oncoming traffic
and your next move,
pace your 302 Mustang’s 5 liter engine,
bridle the GT steed smooth and firm,
gear down to stay in torque,
chrome tailpipes growl in sync. [Read More]
Gallery Song
Look what can happen with ceramic,
wood, and sea-tumbled stones;
with pigments and sand;
with fabric, glass, metal, and sun-dried kelp.
With words, fledged
in holy conversation.
No-see-ums, the entropy effect and non-linear time
So I awoke today to the morning light streaming in at just the right angle to reveal that the no-see-ums had invaded my bedroom via a teeny-tiny-itsy-bitsy unnoticed hole in the window screen. (Egads!) My room was a flutter with dust-mote-sized, blood-sucking denizens of suffering and I was feeling a bit helpless as I ran for the duct tape and realized that during the night my bug bites had multiplied 3-fold. (DRAT!) [Read More]
My Oregon Primary Ballot – What a Joke!
Our ballots arrived in the mail on Saturday, May 3, giving us plenty of time to mull over the choices for candidates and ballot measures for the May 20th primary election. Usually, I don’t even take the ballot out of the envelope until a couple days before the mail-in deadline, but this time, we’ll be gone, so I just took a look.[Read more]
My Dogs, a Surprise on the Beach and The Angel
I was really in a bind. I was alone, no one else on the beach, and had this “situation.” Zeke was pulling hard now wanting to join his brother torture the baby seal. Al was getting more excited by the moment, and was circling the helpless baby. And I knew if I tried to walk Zeke over and grab Al, it would be all over for the baby seal. They would kill it. They’re not vicious dogs, but the excitement would turn into something awful if I let them both near the baby. [Read More]
What Could Be Described as a Commune of Elderly Alcoholics
What ate the daylight yesterday—and many days of the past month—was drinking cheap 5.9% alcohol per content beers with men 60 plus years of age. Cranky men, clinging onto beer cans as if their nostalgia depended on it. Maybe a lifetime of drinking dilutes experiences enough so that ageing and learning from life slips by unnoticed.
Paris Beat
The carefree time knew no tomorrow. Camus affirmed the moment, “could live in a tree trunk…happily.” Feeling alive was enough. See red-brown leaves, smell roasting chestnuts, warm brandy coursing down your throat. Above all, the unboundedness, freedom to roam or stay, party all night or leave for Spain this afternoon. Splash sheer existence into your bearded laugh, grunting “Yess!” [Read More]
Holy maniacs, it’s Brian Doyle!
It took me a chapter or two to adapt to Doyle’s chanting blend of poetry and prose. Then I went crazy for it, wanting more and more. And I’m equally enthralled with his new novel, The Plover, which continues the saga of Declan O’Donnell, a hard ass with a heart of gold who sails off into the Pacific alone. The book is scheduled to hit the shelves tomorrow (April 8), just a few days ahead of Doyle’s keynote address at the annual Get Lit gathering in Cannon Beach. [Read More]
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