30 September 2011

red


The red wallpaper!
A party balloon!
Autumn sun.



29 September 2011

This is GREAT

owl


Without an owl,
How could I measure
My midnight silence?


28 September 2011

daddy-long-legs



Poor daddy-long-legs
Had no idea you were
In the kitchen sink!



27 September 2011

pear



No admirers- 
The pregnant pear tree
Forlorn. 



26 September 2011

earrings


Autumn sunrise
When cedar trees wear earrings
Made of small birds.



cyclotrope

25 September 2011

Wrestle



Morning drama-
Watching myself watch an ant
Wrestle with a spider.



24 September 2011

oak


How delicate-
An ivy tiptoes up
The mighty oak.



Grand Stupa Kathmandu




In the Fall of 2007 while staying in Kathmandu with my old friend Lucy Needham I developed a habit of walking around the Grand Stupa each evening. It's located in an area known as Bodhanath where the Tibetan exiles congregate when coming to Nepal (who are still fleeing Tibet). Throughout the day the Stupa is a kind of circular magnet around which refugees, holy people and tourists alike walk in a clock-wise direction. Twilight seems to bring out everyone and it is an especially magical moment. I felt compelled to return each afternoon from a day of drawing in different parts of town. I was drawn back to the pungent night air filled with incense and a multitude of a sensations; the cacophonous sound of traffic horns and jet planes mingling freely with the chanting already thick in the air. 

23 September 2011

small


Tonight an owl
Keeping watch 
Over small things.



22 September 2011

roots



With no roots
Nor flowers
Free, yet dead.



21 September 2011

dress size

wings


You too butterfly?
Befuddled wings in fig tree-
The fermented bliss!


20 September 2011

bees



Go away I say
To the drunken bees
Of fermented figs.



19 September 2011

family

purr


The purr of crickets
In between gaps
Of autumn wind.



18 September 2011

praying



A praying mantis
On the same flower pot
As yesterday.



17 September 2011

Jorge Luis Borges

touch


Under the tree-
Figs which not even the birds
Will touch.



16 September 2011

yawn


Faced with 
The round moon
Nothing but a yawn.



15 September 2011

glow


A splendid moon
Yet the village windows glow
With television.



Cute Creta

14 September 2011

feet



New shoes-
All day, poor feet
Wearing coffins.


Uganda

13 September 2011

titmouse



Neighbors quarrel
Overwhelmed by 
Several titmouse.



12 September 2011

ivy


By the war memorial
A soldier's stone hand
Bound by ivy.



you think you have problems?

11 September 2011

twins




vExactly ten years ago I was living here at the Belvedere with my friend Lydia who is also a painter and we spent that day trying to take care of a lamb whose leg was broken. At this time there was a shepard named Roger from Catalonia who walked his dog and troop of sheep four  times a day up and down the small road which is below the house. Early each morning the sound of tinkling bells and his bellowing voice awakened us. Up to a large field about a half kilometer off the road for the morning, back for lunch, up again, then back home late afternoon was his daily routine. For us it was a wonderful way to mark each day of our life here in France. Roger was friendly and always shouted 'Salut' when he saw me coming out onto the terrace to wave to him. Once in a while a lamb with a broken paw would straggle behind crying pitifully which was painful to watch four times a day. That week it was too much for our city sensibilities and we asked him if we could take care of the latest invalid. Thinking we were a bit crazy but being affable about the whole thing he gave it to us much to our surprise. So on the morning of September 11th we took it to the Vet's in La Begude who probably also thought we were a little 'dramatic' and advised us that it had a broken leg and should be someone's dinner quite soon. We brought it back to Roger who promised he would put it in a small field next to his house. After lunch we each went into our retrospective studios and painted for the afternoon. Lydia painted a portrait of two large dying sunflower plants (see top photo) They were slumped over and hanging to one side. I worked on a few things but then started a painting of two red lines which go up and down a small canvas. I don't know why but I stopped and left it in that state and picked up something else. I found it was compelling to say the least.

We did not live with a television at that time and retrieving emails was a dial-up affair and thus not as easy as today using broadband. In fact, we were at the end of our relationship and didn't have much to say to each other so I imagine that we ate dinner outside and went to bed. I do remember the telephone rang once or twice but this was at a time when I wished to be out of touch I guess. Needless to say we didn't find out about what had happened in New York until the next morning when I did retrieve the phone messages. There were condolences from several French friends which I found perplexing and an hysterical message from my sister in the States. I went online to see what the fuss was all about. What really surprised us were the two images which had come up for us both completely independant of one another. There was something quite eery about these images being worked on at just about the same time as the towers were falling (6 hours ahead of Eastern standard time)


(An update to this story: Lydia wrote to remind me (which I had forgotten) that the small lamb which she had healed with argile had somehow lived and walked after a week!) 



Exactly ten years ago I was living here at the Belvedere with my friend Lydia who is also a painter and we spent that day trying to take care of a lamb whose leg was broken. At this time there was a shepard named Roger from Catalonia who walked his dog and troop of sheep four  times a day up and down the small road which is below the house. Early each morning the sound of tinkling bells and his bellowing voice awakened us. Up to a large field about a half kilometer off the road for the morning, back for lunch, up again, then back home late afternoon was his daily routine. For us it was a wonderful way to mark each day of our life here in France. Roger was friendly and always shouted 'Salut' when he saw me coming out onto the terrace to wave to him. Once in a while a lamb with a broken paw would straggle behind crying pitifully which was painful to watch four times a day. That week it was too much for our city sensibilities and we asked him if we could take care of the latest invalid. Thinking we were a bit crazy but being affable about the whole thing he gave it to us much to our surprise. So on the morning of September 11th we took it to the Vet's in La Begude who probably also thought we were a little 'dramatic' and advised us that it had a broken leg and should be someone's dinner quite soon. We brought it back to Roger who promised he would put it in a small field next to his house. After lunch we each went into our retrospective studios and painted for the afternoon. Lydia painted a portrait of two large dying sunflower plants (see top photo) They were slumped over and hanging to one side. I worked on a few things but then started a painting of two red lines which go up and down a small canvas. I don't know why but I stopped and left it in that state and picked up something else. I found it was compelling to say the least.

We did not live with a television at that time and retrieving emails was a dial-up affair and thus not as easy as today using broadband. In fact, we were at the end of our relationship and didn't have much to say to each other so I imagine that we ate dinner outside and went to bed. I do remember the telephone rang once or twice but this was at a time when I wished to be out of touch I guess. Needless to say we didn't find out about what had happened in New York until the next morning when I did retrieve the phone messages. There were condolences from several French friends which I found perplexing and an hysterical message from my sister in the States. I went online to see what the fuss was all about. What really surprised us were the two images which had come up for us both completely independant of one another. There was something quite eery about these images being worked on at just about the same time as the towers were falling (6 hours ahead of Eastern standard time)


(An update to this story: Lydia wrote to remind me (which I had forgotten) that the small lamb which she had healed with argile had somehow lived and walked after a week!) 


others



When sometimes
I imagine my own pain,
I think of others.



the wonder years!

10 September 2011

toe


Morning honeybee-
Rest on my knee, my toe,
My incertitude. 



09 September 2011

bedroom



Anticipation-
A lost honeybee filling
Bedroom silence.



08 September 2011

appear


No matter 
What I do or don't,
Wrinkles appear.



twin sisters

07 September 2011

bright



Was it the bright moon
Which awakened
The cuckoo? 



06 September 2011

carefully



Autumn figs-
Eaten carefully
And not carefully.


timing

05 September 2011

church

Interrupting space
Between church bells-
Flight of pigeons.


04 September 2011

idiot


Sunday morning-
Which village idiot 
With the chainsaw? 



pentimento

03 September 2011

Basho


Turning the light on
To read Basho in bed-
The grey dawn.



02 September 2011

plane



Color of pythons-
On plane trees
All over France.



01 September 2011

fast and furious plus a gringo

cold


A young moon
Sliding down the cold mountain-
First day of Autumn.