How many times have I written about those flame-colored leaves?.... All the while, I am all too aware of being one among many.
This autumn in northern Europe is unseasonably gentle and warm. The turning of the leaves from deep green to all the colors of flame and sunset, the baring of elegant dark, sloping branches, the abundant soft coverings on the ground, the scents of damp earth, fallen apples and acorns, crumbling organic growth. All these magnificent…Read more A Gentle Autumn
Summer is moving steadily and surely towards autumn. We are right on the edge of it. The deep lush green of an unusually long, hot growing season is giving way to the blazing colors of countless sunsets. First it comes in fitful bursts: swathes of yellow, lashings of red, streaks of pink. Growing bolder and…Read more The Edge of Summer
What are you afraid of? That they’ll see right through you? See through your farce? Your vain bid for importance? That no amount of effort will surmount the appraisal of your surface? Or insubstantialize your many failures and shortcomings? (In fact, make them all the more obvious.) That you will be deserving of neither attention…Read more Portrait of the Artist
It had been the perfect spring morning, full of rose-colored light, the air as soft as petals after winter’s sluggish passing. The apple trees in the garden were thick with white blossoms, the young cherry trees full of dark purplish buds nearly ready to unfurl. Soon the locust, the linden, the lilacs and chestnuts would…Read more 5 Years of Spring
Doubt is part of every word I say. Before the glances congeal into a gaze, I am already formed. A partial. A remnant. Existing to be discarded. How many estimates Must I encounter To meet the one I cannot fall short of? I fail, I fail, I will fail you Always In your judgement…Read more Being Myself
Some thoughts on the loose ends of winter: Remnants that scatter. Swept out. Soon to be forgotten. Bared by the persistent cold prove too fragile to stand, neither whole, nor in any semblance of form. A relentless wind, whipping panic, freezing each and every protuberance. Removing the timid, Exposing all that is meager. There is…Read more March, the Death of Winter