Constellations of photographer and subjects, of mothers and a grandmother and a granddaughter and a niece, and sisters and daughters. With a spring sun glancing off the Pacific.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Constellations
Constellations of photographer and subjects, of mothers and a grandmother and a granddaughter and a niece, and sisters and daughters. With a spring sun glancing off the Pacific.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
The soft noise that eats words, thoughts of three friends tonight
i would like you to know
that i still light fires
sometimes,
outside of locked or
unlocked
doors
and the scent of
burning paper
in the night air,
the heat, even,
against my face,
for a few moments —
a small tumbleweed
of flame
and paper —
is the same, each time.
this is to you, for recollections shared,
this is to you, a benediction,
this is to you, with light in your eyes.
that i still light fires
sometimes,
outside of locked or
unlocked
doors
and the scent of
burning paper
in the night air,
the heat, even,
against my face,
for a few moments —
a small tumbleweed
of flame
and paper —
is the same, each time.
this is to you, for recollections shared,
this is to you, a benediction,
this is to you, with light in your eyes.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Work, work
My second full-time job, and the first one at a desk. Data entry. It should last for a week or two more.
It made my back ache quite badly at first, but then I realized I just needed to lower my chair. It has made me screamingly bored on some days, but I've learned how to mark the passing of time with a fresh mug of tea twice a day, a new podcast or some music to listen to on the half hour. Those things make a big difference.
The people are kind, and the pay is very good.
And soon, soon, I will fly away. I will return before autumn, though, for two joyous occasions: a wedding and a birth.
1. Please recommend your favorite podcasts.
2. Who here has been to Ireland?
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