Butterflies play A long game Over short lives, Ephemeral, eternal, Born to the swing
I was listening to the Minutemen’s Double Nickels on the Dime this week when I realized I had never seen a picture of Mike Watt before.
Trees snow, seagulls screech...
Autumn skies whisper softly despondently
imagine a front yard
extending toward the center
of the street, twice as far back then
when this street was narrow
and still made of dirt
in a place named for rivers and wildlife
a sturdy facade belies a buckling form
how long has it been since voices and laughter
filled the interior of this now fragile frame
The last sign of the zodiac
The final stop in the cycle
It contains a little bit of everything
that came before it
at points rushing
and at other parts still
Not one or the other
but both at once
As a newlywed, I struggled to make roti, the most basic staple food of my culture. By definition, a staple food should be simple to make but roti and I were not gelling together. How...
“If the core of man’s spirit is fueled by new experiences, why do so many people do the same things over and over… day in and day out?” asked the Muse of Many Questions.
“Well… I want to flourish. Doesn’t everyone?” asked the Muse of Many Questions. “And I mean… if Aristotle… one of history’s most prominent thinkers thought it…
day and night
never a good liar
My art aims at evoking feelings from life’s moments; both big and small. It invites you...
Is the saying-yes-when-I-am-no-and-no-when-I-am-yes a female thing? Or, more prevalent at least, for females?
I am not just simply hungry for skin, but starved for it.
And not just skin, but touch. Hugs. Caresses.
A lot has rain here since last March. The community of salt is evolving. It is not a traditional community with members, it is more like a communality of experiences.
The word culture has been brewing during centuries, a process I find fascinating. This evolution is still on going and it will serve as context to the dialogue that took place in the garden of Eden…
WHO TOLD YOU YOU’RE NOT BEAUTIFUL
Who said it
Who called you something else
Something not your name
Who glitched you
Sent you whirling spiralling
Kicked your world from under you
Come out from under years of wading and wandering desolate looking peering in from outside longing wondering waiting yearning to be chosen seeing not being heard unanswered...
I selected this conversation with Seth Godin for the Creative Gallery because I met all of the artists here in the first run of The Creatives Workshop in 2020, a year we will all remember forever.
Making my way down the stony beach, I drop to my knees behind my tripod. The rocks are glistening wet. Moments ago they were the ocean floor. Now they are my playground.
The alarm goes off
I am flattened in bed
And in need of thickening
Or perhaps some shortening
To mix in and congeal