Why are you crying, my Dear? Because everything is so poignant. So poignant. The morning light through the white paper blinds stuns me…especially in the living room where the floor-to-ceiling windows face east. And THAT makes you cry? Yes. The majesty of east, facing east, looking eastward…holy, regal, primal light one bows to, bows […]Read more "CONVERSATION WITH THE SELF"
There. By the side of the road. A mound of branches and tree limbs. Leafless. Like a giant, overturned bird’s nest. Which isn’t far-fetched. Birds like brush piles. And all sorts of critters do too. But some people think it’s nothing but trash. Debris to be removed. Or burned. Not the birds. They like to […]Read more "ODE TO A BRUSH PILE"
The I Ching says: “Possess as if you possess nothing.” I have things. Some of them I don’t need. I’ve gotten rid of lots of things. But I still seem to have a lot. What is the point of having a chair if no one ever sits in it? Or gewgaws. Knickknacks. Dust […]Read more "TO HAVE OR HAVE NOT"
The heart. In Mexico and Latin America, it’s illegal to write a song without mentioning “el corazon.” Si? Verdad? Is that true? No, not really, I just made that up. But every song I hear in Spanish never fails to include “corazon.” And porque no? Why not? The heart is the heart of the […]Read more "EL CORAZON"
That could be the headline. Right there in tomorrow’s paper. Had it not been for Mother Nature. Thankfully, it didn’t rain. Thankfully, the wind didn’t blow a million miles an hour. And the temperatures were actually above freezing. So I had no excuse. The only thing that would drive me crazy would be myself. […]Read more "DRIVING RANGE DRIVES GOLFER CRAZY"
We called her Gramma, somehow slurring the “n” and “d” into an “m.” And we did the same with Grampa. Her six sisters and two brothers called her Nan, though her given name was Ann. Ann Beatrice Sistrunk. She was my mother’s mother. She was born almost in the middle with Blanton, Mary T., […]Read more "GRANDMA NANO"
Seeing is believing. So the saying goes. Though it might be said what we believe remains to be seen. Or, what we see we believe to be real. But is it? Or just a belief that it’s real? That is the question. Mirror, mirror on the wall… But even a mirror can distort the […]Read more "SAME MIRROR, DIFFERENT LIGHT"