Just starting to get used to daylight savings time, and just enjoying the sunrise view from my dining room until springtime brings leaves to hide the horizon for several months. A pair of doves waits with me for rosy light to spill over the river. Now. We write a poem on the minutes. If you … Continue reading Awake
I know, that’s backwards. It’s usually “effortless effort,” the Zen approach to living. But I think it may be more realistic and compassionate to say that putting in a focused effort upfront pays off in the practice of most things. One of my friends asked me when I’m going to add “watercolorist” to my profile … Continue reading Effortful effortlessness
It's as necessary to listen to rain, and then to go for a walk in it, as it is to sit down with pen and notebook. I'm writing a poem in hope of unraveling my thoughts about the shootings in Atlanta this week. Imagine how snarled up those thoughts are for many, between experience and … Continue reading Thought or bird
pi day song - Observing sometimes means counting. How many times over, or how many iterations, repetitions in a pattern—these details are necessary to an act of keen artistic understanding. Time spent observing, letting the eye circle its shrine while interiorly circumambulating the heart’s concerns, isn’t counted. In fact, it puts time back into your … Continue reading Beautiful numbers
Tea is the least of it -- Subscriber Content Milk to water, one to one-and-a-half, inseparable friends in the cup. Thick as a half-inch slice of ginger peeled and rough minced, mixed with eight cloves and an inch of cinnamon. Round as a mortar, the earth, moon and sun. Nine, ten green pods of cardamom. … Continue reading Chai for two: a recipe-poem
Saffron mood — Surprise flowers are a good strategy in love. A friend just reminded me of some translations I wrote a while back of Tamil love poetry. Maybe I’ll translate more this spring.
Afloat together - I like accident in creative things. For example, this is one of the reasons I choose to know very little about jazz. Names of musicians, dates, recordings... blurrily. The music sneaks up on me. And I don’t consciously remember things when I’m creating. The sudden synchronicity of image, voice, a boat on … Continue reading In process