you only come back when you stand up

Driving home from work last night,
assuming that I won’t miss this.
Listening to dharma on Upaya’s podcast –
a talk on true prosperity, no
matter to which class you might
belong. I really want to accomplish
the way – the way home, the
way down, the way up, sideways,
backwards. “Any real bow, you disappear.”
Puzzled, thinking about the standing up.

from: True Prosperity: Nothing but the Bow, Dharma talk by Genzan Quennell, Upaya Zen Center

quotidian oppression

Just to pick a phrase out
of the rapid stream of sound
that splashes past my ears from
dawn till late. Today’s phrase is
just what I mean and so
the act of plucking, pasting, privileging
it alleviates, sets up a vibe
that’s like an anti-matter mirror
(mixing merrily). After all this, listen
for the glistening ice of silence.

Title: Ben Norton said these words on the radio program Democracy Now. I listen while commuting to work, Connecticut to New Jersey.

alien birdsong

I let my workmates know today
that I’d be moving this spring
to Maine. Odd conversation, full of
cross currents: how to, how to
move, how to move forward when

the rhythms are so chaotic and
so unpredictable. Feeling funny in my
face but, on the whole, better
about my clothes. Working on my
imaginary wardrobe in the new context.

Title: The character Tipper said this about the sound they were trying to decipher on the TV show The Outcasts.

february window

Last morning waking up downstairs. Moving
bed back upstairs today. Sleeping down
here, sheetless, for more than a
month. It’s my dad’s birthday. He
died in 2011. He would have
been 88. I like this window.
It will stay here as is.
We’ll paint the frame. It doesn’t
open, just interrupts the blank wall
with a picture of the day.

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floor findings

I consider myself lucky to be
reaching into spaces I never thought
would or should be accessed. Example,
underneath the bedroom floors. A stash
of bobby pins, marbles, pennies. One
cheap earring, resinous, made in Japan.

After the floors were “done”, another
coat of urethane to quell the
splinters. And still, I swept a
straight pin from between the boards.

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mushrooms, brush pen

Mushrooms are very fun to paint.
Hectic day at work, five minutes
for art practice and time for
dinner. I compose a still life
before they’re chopped, grab the brush
pen, sketch some wonky shapes – like
magic, likeness! – then add some wash
for shadows, not so subtle. Fast
sketch, fast food (risotto in the
pressure cooker) but both still satisfying.

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