The recluse

The recluse Since I was young, I’ve been attracted to the alone. That is, places that are lonely. And, too, being alone. People say — how can you be alone? Isn’t it…lonely? How can you travel by yourself? While I love being in, with other...

Finding Fire.

Finding fire. Liquid heat. Isn’t that something, the character of flame, found — licking and consuming; hungry and self nourishing? Shooting fire is a compulsion (along with starting fires). I like the study of fire — watching it closely. But, like...

the figure, wheels

Note to Greg Furman | The figured wheel by Robert Pinsky G. thanks for sharing this rich piece of writing, soulful, tormented, yet clear, in vista… his sweet self Which he hereby unwillingly and inexpertly gives up, because it is There, figured and pre-figured...

Light and presence

Light and presence. A couple of years back, in being with my parents at their home overlooking the waters of Lake Coeur d’Alene, I’d sat up, sometime around 5 am, out on their deck, looking into the trees, and painting the light as it came through the...

come back to me.

come back to me Some things go out, go out — and they are gone, they never come back. Like the little ships of paper in Bali, the papered lit and floating sky cylinders in memorial in Thailand, the fired and floating vik drums of Scandinavia, the floating pyres...