bottles

it's almost impossible for me to think of bottles and NOT think of judy gregg, my potter friend. she made long, slender vessels glazed with lavender and light blue.

liquids residing in glass bottles,colored like stained glass-transparent and bewitching.

The bottles placed on the white display pedestals.

bottles hold secrets and nourishment and flowers set on a round oak table, and fragrances...fluid blues in decorative bottles, like the ice colored glazes judy would use.

rain freewrite #7

i listen to the sound of rain on the window, editing the street sounds with a slow, deliberate rhythmn.

the rain makes my back hurt and my spirit sing. simultaneously. nourishing and flooding; the two extremes  of these
fragrant "tears from heaven"

rain on the windshield of a car (will i EVER drive again?)

a droplet slides down  the glass and merges with  another drop

walking in the rain with a loved one....another cliche...
wet kisses beneath the wide spread branches of a scyamore tree.

memories/freewrite #6

gliding down memory lane
where everything is better. 
i can't think of any memory i'd want to share.
decades later,the lryics of songs tug at the heart;
a face, a fragrance.
too hard to do , this act of remembering.
like the books i've read and not remembered
till the end; like my own stories, told too often now.
memories, a word i have to force myself to return to
to keep myself from revisiting the past.

boxes 5/365

small white porcelain boxes, nesting one inside the other open like dates on a calender; those boxes we fill with our sweet nothings.
boxes containing gifts, gaily wrapped or brown and big like appliances or the boxes we paint ourselves into; those corners of nothingness.
the box for the stash or the jeweled memories, or the dreams you can't quite remember.

lunch boxes and litter boxes and round and silver hat boxes like that series of art boxes i keep meaning to finish.

freewrite number 4

barb and i have decided to do a 10 minute freewrite every day for a year.  for those of you who don't know, a freewrite is a kind of automatic writing, where you simply write, without thought to grammar, punctuation or content. this is an exercise in creativity, tho i have no idea how that actually works.
anyway, today's topic  is trees.

          looking out the window at treetops and rooftops of other people's homes.  green and leafy cliches against the landscape of chimney. green leaves bursting on the monotone scene .
          then there are the trees i've stood against or hugged or sat beneath like quentin's pepper tree in chula vista.
          trees are best in autumn; leaves of vermilion and burgundy; glorious in their dresses of color.

          trees old and strong, twisted with age, contorted; leaning over like old men  or young and budding like the tree we planted so many years ago, right beyond the french doors.  for privacy.  for the sweet green of leaves and the crooked, twisting bark.

buildings

barbara and i did another freewrite.  i eeked out a couple of sentences.

strong, sturdy; concrete and glass straining towards the sky.
i used to paint buildings when i lived on the west coast and was missing the east.
perhaps painting is to reminisce after all.

michelle

here's a picture of my favorite little girl on the day of her first communion.  the picture was taken in the gazebo at cannonball park.

flowers

Barbara and i did a freewrite today on the subject of flowers.  here is my silliness.

flowers

i can barely recall the scent of flowers, blooming in a vase, in sunshine
or blooming in the garden. a trellis of morning glories-light purple and blue,

climbing. trumpets of the day; lillies surrounding the walkways...

this blog is beginning to read like an obituary column . once again i'm here to record the death of another person who touched my life. this time it was a personal friend who let go of the flesh and embraced the light. at least that's how i'd like to imagine his passing.
collier and i ate dumplings and played chess together and were opponents off the board as well, sometimes. he had many ,many secrets......very few he shared with me.
he brought me pastries and once, a tube of paint. it was metalic gold.

rest well, collier

bella's birthday

pete fornatale

 i remember listening to pete fornatale on wnew on the clock radio barbara ann got me for my 16th birthday. everything i ever learned to love about music started there on pete fornatale's show.
he died today at 66..  rest in peace and thanks for sharing the best music.

railroads

thinking of steam engies,those giants of the tracks;huge and covered in soot.
"time runs like a freight train"...a line from a song,a long time of track extending thru mountains, over bridges and thru cities in the dead of night.

 .

rest in peace, levon helm

it was with much sadness that i read of the death of levon helm of the band. everything i ever saw or read about levon helm was positive. he appears to have been a real good guy.

i'm convinced there's a special place in heaven for the music makers. levon is there now, along with bandmates rick danko and richard manuel.   i hope they are playing up a storm.

rocky