To make a Good Sort of Ginger Bread

early modern paleography

what i was trying to get at

What I was trying to get at

is there's something about telling a story

that's worth the effort.

-stephen elliott,

the rumpus

persist

adults

have an amazing

ability for

underestimating

the strength of a child's

emotions

-sara midda,

growing up and other vices

to connect

started

[to be cont.]

cupped

Let yourself curl

up . . .

You are

the universe about its pole. God's not far.

molly peacock,

good girl

image: mapplethorpe

sky clearing

March 27

The moon is out,

the sky is clearing at last.

The air is drier and fresher.

There is a very thin film of ice on the water buckets.

Last end of the old moon. The new moon will be

the moon of Easter.

-thomas merton,

a vow of conversation

just that (again)

always one window or another

photos: vt

see?

the burning house. again.

photo: Yongki Hermawan

watch

mr. huntington and the burning house

i've always been convinced that foster huntington was going to do

remarkable things; i am more so now than ever. (and that's a lot.)

actually, he's already done them. what i mean is- stay tuned. this

is just the beginning.

photo: Micaiah von Walter

wary meyers and gee's

quilt: gee's bend

gnomes: wary meyers

for thought

time-wise

7 generations and the lift

"How we think and feel about time largely determines our view of the world. Native American cultures have always believed that we had to be in synchrony with nature. It is a different way of seeing the world -- one group rushing away from nature, the other group rushing to a place, one group seeing linear time, the other group seeing circular time.

John Mohawk explained in a BBC talk (Mohawk, 2000):

The Iroquois, for example, thought that what we do today will reverberate for a long time in the future so there was a true conservatism, not conservative in the right/left politics but conservative in the sense you would be very careful about what it is that you did now because you would understand that it would have magnified effects down the road. There was that idea that people had to act today in responsibility for things that would happen seven generations into the future.

We now live in a world in which we complain if the doors on the lift take too long to close. We are poised to alter our sense of time. We need to look deep within ourselves and decide whether we are sure we are going to become time-wise and not time-foolish."

Rhythms of Life, R. G. Foster & L. Kreitzman

with or without

thought of saying that most sights i see, i see alone

(don't know if i prefer it that way, but that is the

way it is able to happen, so i go). then i realized

that it's never really alone. most every photo i take

is meant for someone. whether they ever see it or not-

i'm not sure it matters. it is there. for them & whoever

might love it. this is a great freedom.

what some would sweep away is what i love the best. what's

left, and what's about to go, and what comes from time.

looking up

well, the last few posts are only iphone photos.

but, for the most part- on this set- what i was looking at made me catch

my breath. & i haven't figured out what to do with the other photos taken

(bigger files than they used to be, with new little camera) and will

someday post some. but until then, these. & with them the happiness

they brought upon sight. (i can't seem to stop looking up, or down,

and find what others might think to be a surfeit of sky and stone in

my camera, but i don't really think so. can one have too much sky?)

and there are good stories i hope will come, because this month

held some great surprises- happening upon art, and moments, i did

not expect but was overjoyed to encounter. and there were moments

with loved ones that can never be caught- except, perhaps- as s knows-

in a god's eye.

it was rush hour

and when i saw the pink papier toilette i couldn't not bring out the iphone. so here were all these bleary well-dressed folk waiting in line at the sweetest minimart i may ever see, and tiny cardiganed ladies with sparse white hair asking me questions [in french. what aisle the peas are in? the time does the next train leave? i could almost decipher what they said, but found myself wide-eyed sputtering (in english) "i don't speak english." by which i meant french.] anyhow, the ladies were asking me where the peas were and then i was trying to unobtrusively take pictures and not bother the women in good shoes and men in good suits who just got off the train who just wanted to go home with their bottle of nice wine and i really just went in for water and maybe some cheese. and a small bag of almonds, maybe. but i fell in love with the way the shelves were so well-cared for, and with the bright happiness that somehow seemed to shoot from the soft-drink displays. i left with a tangy ball of chevre, wafery crackers, six bottles of water, no almonds, a smile. and i am strangely glad to remember the quick way the market seemed to cheer everyone a up bit and it didn't matter if it was paper or peas they were after.