Light in the crux | Incandescent

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...

Hearing Her

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 I am, with her,...

the one, the many

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. i’d stay by this render, that it’s...

Andy Goldsworthy

I’ve been exploring, studying the work of Andy Goldsworthy for a couple of decades, really. I was struck, immediately, by the work. What I found compelling was the idea of finding patterning in pattern. That is, if you see something striking in nature,...

meticulous: what fear, have you?

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 at DIA | Beacon, NY...

As I stand

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...