Category Archives for art

domestic

it rained, hard, and there were blue patches inbetween, the way i love it. leanne called me to help come to the airport to pick up harriet. i remembered what rudy said about patting the side of the plane, and began to practice already two months in advance, dreaming of valium or perhaps a shot or a knock over the head.
there were urban and small stream flood advisories, then there were bright streets colors smells and sun. nothing imperceptible about the weather today, but i nearly have a pleasant banter complaining about the waldal “interaction.” at the same time, i am pleased to have harriet visit us, and leanne is in the living room talking with her, next to the gorgeous piano. the lasagne is in the oven. i came home after a hard but good week at work.
downright domestic.

playground

there is a playground in my mind and sometimes the swings make me sick but i enjoy the view and even the motion. i take a little ginger candy with me and wish that i am not surprised, but know i will be, and hope i try to be patient at the next downswing. the tundra looks utterly barren from afar, but the hike takes me through color festivals of wild irises, poppies, lupines, and of course, fields of poison oak. the wind blows into one ear and out the other, pushing me up and then down the steep coast. the ocean is turbulent, but it is far below. the plants are battered in the gusts. i see a quiet deer and i feel a peace though it runs away. i like to start high, then get higher, but i am also glad for an even space.

downturn

once again it was a bad day in the industry people love to vilify. layoffs downturn our days, in the biggest euphemism of them all. leanne comes home and is harrowed by what she has to do. something snaps, a protection violated, and we are no longer talking. the bracelet she gave me for valentine’s day came apart on the dancefloor at her birthday.

it has been suggested that i have been growing a bit paranoid. enough about that. it is april; the winds blew over the doggie from the diner last night. it was almost unbearably sad and funny at the very same time, the sight of the poor thing lying with its nose bashed in. we wonder about dogs and violence, of all kinds. we wonder what san francisco seems like from the outside.