by Tim Girvin | Mar 20, 2011 | Diary
Photo by Tim Girvin After the long running, days on daze of grim light, the proverbial oyster shell coloration of the Pacific Northwest wintering, low rolling clouds, the Sun merely a fuzzy luminescence. Today, for a moment, a turning to spring, sprung — that...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 18, 2011 | Diary
Rummaging for a hat, the other day, I found an old baseball cap that I’d given my daughter. She never liked it, though I thought she’d like the pug-like expression of the front panel. But didn’t. I think it might’ve been the coloration, which...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 12, 2011 | Diary
Photo by Tim Girvin THE CIRCLED WIND I went out in the early dark this morning, in the storm. Wind, rain, cold whipped round — circling. And I stood in the center of the storm. I dreamed of that, the wind, the circling. And I could taste the wet, the salt of the...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 9, 2011 | Diary
Photo by Tim Girvin SPINNING MIND AND IMAGINATION STORM I spilled the ink on the surface of the glass, milky underlayment and light flowing from beneath. There was light, showing through from the shadows, the street bound — lights, emerging. That floated the...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 6, 2011 | Diary
(a hallway meandering found, a personal photograph of a detail of Cappy Thompson’s glasswork, Swedish Hospital) MY FATHER AND MOTHER HAVE INSTILLED A LOVE OF PLANTING IN OUR FAMILY. The planting inheritance, a flourishing of the verdurous instinct… But...
