by Tim Girvin | Jun 9, 2008 | Diary
All night, there has been a running river of sound that flows beneath where I live out here. And in the morning, what of it, there is, a softening muffle, in sight, clings to the far shore, and slides in over the now quiet waters, the riverine murmur slows, and hangs...
by Tim Girvin | May 18, 2008 | Diary
I think about words all the time. It’s the crux of my thinking, where things cross. They bridge, they verge, they come back, they go forth. It’s where the light of my mind is held, that holding place of idea and imagination. Light in the crux, split in the...
by Tim Girvin | May 17, 2008 | Diary
Hearing Her Last night, I was thinking about her. And being in her presence that silent cast that she arrayed. Down to me, standing quiet. Alone, all one, with her. Gazing up, thinking of her. Remote, that presents a perfect orb of pearl, in love, that Photos by Tim...
by Tim Girvin | May 15, 2008 | Diary
the one, the many how foolish we are, to think that amidst that throng, we are one — alone when, in that standing chorus, we are mere — the one, of many, marvels — they are, in plenty you i one in many. Photos by Tim Girvin i’d stay by this...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 15, 2008 | Diary
I contemplate: metus | fear. Things are arranged; then they are rearranged. What do you hold to, that which is arranged, that which is not? Is there beauty in symmetry? Or, symmetry skewed, the chaotic fracture? I contemplate: Imagery photographed by me at DIA |...
by Tim Girvin | Mar 8, 2008 | Diary
As I stand As I stand out in the silence of this morning there is nothing to suggest that I am any thing less, than alone A breeze begins. Distance beckons and I can feel just the beginning of drops, that come, falling on my bare shoulders. But it is the sound that is...
