Saturday, May 29, 2010

Notes Scattered Along the Trail

I spent the better part of the day working on photographs. I sit here now, looking at each moment from somewhere above. I feel exhausted, but cannot sleep, although my lids are slipping.

Fascinated with nothing in particular, my body and mind are almost moving separately, as if not recalling how to be absolute, as if completely disconnected with nothing left to make them true—a gap where a heart remains, longing to blend again.

And and even if I identifed this feeling, feelings swell and subside, absorbing with distance and nebula, the way movement slows to nothing, where everything tastes like poetry, but words cannot be found.

In a few moments I will be making my way to bed, draping myself in a down comforter. I will blend into the white space that takes place of being awake—with the moon on my back, my entire being will become one again, during the sleep between dreams.

Like an English Summer Rain

some women master mirrors
in gas stations and motel rooms,
learn to get by
when july deepens fastbreath
or uncertain hands.

they count tips in denny's,
lying themselves into poetry,
blending into the pavement
in pigeon shit gray—
elegy clinging to pores
like perspiration.

the ashtray girls, their bodies
tree stumps in mud, fashioned
in the light of sour milk
and insult.

they buy french sleepers to weep in,
whisper abandonment, carry
love light, like a wafer
on the tongue.

they pick up pennies, study them
for signs of age, see months become
smoke in still rooms along
the back streets of eden.
ladies, hardened to glass,
they lose children in supermarkets,
—if sang to
they would splinter.

they will sink into the cold,
minutes becoming urgent, where everything
will be counted like meter money,
like days that pass
with rain and nothingness.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

End of Day

(A photograph I shot in Cape May last summer.)

What a long day for some reason, I can barely keep my eyes open. I will just make this short and sweet. :)

There is so much I want to add tonight, like the fact that I watched the movie Julie/Julia (which is probably titled wrong, because I am much too tired to recall)and absolutely adored it. I am not truly a fan of Julia Childs, nor am I not... I have never thought about it truly.

Nonetheless, the movie has such strong points that it brought tears of joy, smiles and more while watching. I will emphasize on that at a later date.

Also, I will have to write a few letters that need to go out, in the morning. My email will not open, nor Facebook at the moment. For some odd reason, my internet is going very slow, and it has me even sleepier as I watch Firefox try its best to show me what I want. I simply gave up.

Even the music here in my blog is going on and off. I hear ..."you're lucky star, your singing satellite" and the it goes quiet a moment. I am sure all will be better by morning.

Been feeling extremely romantic today. <--Random thought.

Took a trip to the Mediterranean by making bite-sized falafels (a blend of chickpeas, fava beans and Arabic herbs and spices) hummus and lettuce for dinner tonight. Stefan had me try one a few years ago and I fell in love.

They are so delicious. In fact, after we left the Rockefeller Plaza in NYC during our trip in February, we bought some from a street vendor. Mine was a bit dry, nothing like the ones we make at home, but delicious nonetheless. The wait can be long when ordering out, but the ingredients are fresh and the taste is worth waiting for. Being Italian, I still love the foods, but never mind stepping out of the ordinary.

By the way, I can never pronounce them and do so with an "R"..."Farfalla". Funny, but no one minds...they just laugh. ;)

We planted a flowering plum tree last weekend. I am so in love with that tree--extremely delicate and beautiful.

I look out at it every day, just to see how far it has grown. ;) We also bought some roses, one is a climbing rose bush. I adore the climbing roses the most and cannot wait to see how beautiful it becomes.

I have so much fun looking at all the flowers and trees the stores have to offer and wish to buy some tall daisies soon. I love how they make my heart feel.

I cut a few pink peonies, before Stefan moved some of them from beside the garage, to the front yard. I placed them in a vase in the kitchen window, next to some vine clippings that I am trying to propagate. They make me smile every time I see them. I cannot believe how large they get. And the scent is fabulous.

By the way, I love to propagate. I bought a tropical plant the other day that was dying...I wanted to try and save him. At first, I cut a piece of the plant at each node and placed the eye horizontally just above the surface of the soil. That clipping did not make it, but the other has--I placed the stalk directly in the soil at a vertical position, watered it and gave it some sun. So far, he is doing well. I will keep my fingers crossed.

Moving on:

I am writing a new poem. I think it will be my best yet. We will see. ;)

I have tons of photographs to work on and post. I still have photographs from our trip to Texas, trip to NYC, Beverly Hills (The Emmy Suite for Emerging Magazine) and more.

Michael (my cat) has decided he wants to be an outside cat and has gone missing once more. I miss him very much. I miss his beautiful blue eyes. If you recall last time, he was gone a few months, but came home tattered and torn. I fixed him up and he is gone again.

I found him when he was about 3 months old left out in the rain. I took him in and gave him all the love I had. Maybe he will come back.

I will write more later, because I am, extremely exhausted.

Sweet dreams,

Monday, May 24, 2010

Springtime With Father

We saddled up before hint of sunrise stretched against
the bitter cold of the California morning. Fog lifted from
the mouths of the horses, the trampled soil, as hard as frost.

With buttoned coats, we rode toward Sonoma, our horses
breaking through frozen puddles along the trail. It was winter,
but the air was crisp with scents of lupine and sweet clover—
each an exquisite reminder that spring had come to the north.

We headed up to the hills treated with open splendor—a world
away from the high-strung urban development of San Francisco.
Frost rested across an open field, above us, an unbending sky,
its deep blue warmed by first sun of morning.

Our family took the ride each Sunday, father, simple in dress,
serene in countenance, leading the pack up to where mudducks
and mountain top meet. Later that night we sat dimly, sipping
cocoa as father told stories. We laughed at tales, unable to
see what the future would bring; father would never return.

I go up the mountain alone now, a pocket full of quiet memoirs
beneath a shattered sky—days when I knew nothing, but what
he taught me, days when I never had to feel alone.

Stirring Winter to Wine

Thursday, May 20, 2010


So much to say, but nothing really comes out.

Language tangled on the tongue; it moves slightly, just enough to push out a subtle sigh, but never truly amounts to much. Where words get in the way and you cannot step through the insignificant to get to the tripping over the stones you had carefully placed in the garden..


A likely subject in homes, coffee shops, classrooms, studios—anywhere actually. Where do they go? I say this and mean, our deepest dreams? That picture perfect photograph inside one's own mind...contemplating, but never really moving--that one moment of silence before it all rushes on. Perhaps, that inner voice that slowly begins to fade shortly after the photograph burns. What are we left with?

I truly do not have the answer. I do know that life takes over and becomes stronger as it pushes you through your routine, rarely leaving you time to follow anything, but the long track of receipts from bill payments. Life will surely subside now and again—just enough for you to regain your footing, recall what it was you had longed after, and give you some time to break a small piece of it onto your plate. From there, you feel a surge of hope as repetition kicks in.

Now that does not mean you cannot pursue your dream, if you are one of the lucky ones...the ones that can simply take as much time as they prefer to begin their dream, without worrying much about anything else.

Then we have the people that juggle it all at once; they have every reason in the world to feel nothing, but absolute, because even though it is a heavy load to bear, it is extremely worth it.

Not sure where I fit anymore. I think I have been all three at one point of my life or another. Now? Well, I just pursue happiness and inner peace. Oddly enough, I know they must come from within—not from the outside.

The fact is that anyone can dream, that is the simple part. It is actually being consistent and finishing what you have started that becomes the true quest. If you have found your dream, hold it dearly.

Saturday, May 08, 2010

There are Too Many Hours Before Dawn

We should adore people even more for all the little things, and sometimes we do. Yet, when someone makes a mistake or has faults, those are what seem to get noticed enough to speak about, even get upset about. If you notice something small and sweet that someone has done for you, let them know, what do you have to lose? You may make their heart shine even brighter.

And please remember, not everyone does things for praise, sometimes they just do them.



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