We, of a certain age, are learning about computer apps and opportunities rather quickly these days, and Zoom–the popular group video-chat is but one.
until the virus just another hotrod
the camera and I
there’s always one
Super Bowl Sunday–
snacks and smiles
for Teams Ruff and Fluff
Puppy Bowl XV
on the sidelines
the dog and I nap
Kitten Bowl VI:
the delight of cats
not caring about sports
Recent conversation with a friend:
Friend: What should I wear to this (relatively important) meeting with strangers?
Me: No boots.
She: I don’t have anything but boots and flip-flops.
Me: Wow that sounds like a haiku or a county-western song.
four seasons become half as many shoes in her closet
boots or flip flops —
to heel or not
how to read shoes?
favorite blue clogs
half my age
flip or flop
boot or mute
all in a meeting
truth of place on my canvas slips away
lost to the paint
the pregnant pause
always in the present tense bushstroke after brushstroke
Every once and again, we come to a crossroad, or as a friend likes to say, choice points. Sometimes they appear to be as minor as choosing between two colors to paint with. Sometimes they are more than that.
yellow or black
if relevance comes at a price
can I mix the two?
void or depression
her head in a fog
the backstory merges
into the foreground
self-portrait as the painting dictates its own
of positive and negative space jumps
off the canvas into my car
over sensible shoes
and hot pink panties
February 3, 2017 daily writing prompt: A (yes, just this letter of the alphabet—where will it take you? a what? or something starting with a?).
To a, or to b: that is the question:
what grade of honey?
to abet or to be:
when is to be really to abet?
to be or to bend
The news is changing and charging by the hour let alone day. I wrote this two days ago and while I wrote it – I felt good about it. Not so sure anymore, even though it is still pertinent. This is the first time in five years of blogging about simple thoughts during my January days, that I’ve had a difficult time posting. Alas these are difficult days both politically and personally for many of my friends and family, and it surely colors these blog posts. So with only one more blog post of this sort – I am going to publish this piece. I send it out with the intention that true peace is an inward turned outward process and practice and not the opposite. Namaste: I honor the spirit in you that is also in me.
I read an article in The New York Times Magazine by Taffy Brodesser-Aker on Andy Cohen. I don’t know why I read this piece, however there was a gemstone imbedded in the writing that stopped me cold.
“He has a lack of judgement about the way the world works, and therefore doesn’t have the willful ignorance that the rest of us do.”
Wow! It’s the second part of that compound sentence that grabbed me and forced me to think about my own lens, attitude and judgement on current events. “… and therefore doesn’t have the willful ignorance that the rest of us have.” Let me break that part of the sentence down even further “… willful ignorance…” That’s a hat and a heartful to someone who believes she is empathetic, sympathetic and sensitive to the core. Am I really? I even recently blogged about walking (or driving) in someone else’s shoes and had a long conversation with two artist friends about our ignorance of those with opposing views and/or plight. But the word willful never came up alongside ignorance. Think about it – whether we like it or not – there is truth in the concept that we are unwilling or unable at this point – to relate to others if their viewpoint or set of values appears to differ either drastically, or now-a days, somewhat mildly from our own. It’s the black or white mindset on both sides of the proverbial fence. In this case, the white picket fence or black chain-link variety cuts across both progressive and conservative backyards alike.
not in my backyard fences in black and white
It’s the Year of The Fire Rooster. Happy New Year to all who celebrate.
I had some witty but irreverent haiku ready to share, however I just could not press the publish button. It would be an affront to our Chinese friends to use the urban version of rooster in haiku for the sake of political humor and cleverness at the expense of such a happy holiday. It would also be demeaning to real roosters everywhere. Not that I am above irreverent humor – just the opposite really. However, I strongly believe that humor and political humor/commentary in particular, needs to be held to higher standards to be truly effective, like all great art everywhere.
Roosters are confident, self-assured, perfectionists, proud and also a little eccentric. They are not only hard-working but also punctual. They are always eager to learn new things in life. Element Fire represents warmth, passion and brilliance.
Fire is the element associated with Summer, red, south, passion and enthusiasm. Red can also be chaotic. I really do love the way cosmic energy aligns with that part of the world that I am familiar with.
tonight I drum unruly energy
I have a magnet on my refrigerator that says:
What if the hokey pokey is what it’s all about?
Really? What if it is? All my existential, political, spiritual and artistic angst (most of my waking hours these days) is for naught. According to this Hokey Pokey Philosophy (HPP), it means that the dance is an end unto itself, and thus renders all my other “inspirational” magnets on the refrigerator useless.. On the other hand, if HPP is certified, then there is an elemental freedom that comes into play, and I no longer have to worry about choreographing the dance.
one too many refrigerator magnets now in the trash