and so it begins

the day ends with my first effort in a year or so....Much has gone down in life since my initiating this blog...and I have been less than focused on its maintenance and growth...will start this up again by posting poetry and images and see what develops...


 

Youth       

Through all of youth I was looking for you
without knowing what I was looking for


or what to call you I think I did not
even know I was looking how would I

have known you when I saw you as I did
time after time when you appeared to me

as you did naked offering yourself
entirely at that moment and you let

me breathe you
touch you taste you knowing
no more than I did and only when I

began to think of losing you  did I
recognize you when you were already

part memory part distance remaining
mine in the ways that  I learn to miss you

from what we cannot hold the stars are made

W. S. Merwin

It has been some years since I began this and some years since I posted here. My path shifts and opens new horizons for my eyes. I look to share what it is I see, where I find myself.

Brother Blue

Hugh Hill, better known as Brother Blue, storyteller without peer, died this week at his home in Cambridge after a short illness, at the age of 88. I had the opportunity to get to know Blue and his wife, Ruth, over the last dozen years and saw and heard him perform both on the streets of Cambridge, and on the radio and his community cable television show where he told stories in his own inimitable style, partially singing, dancing, playing harmonica. Stories of redemption, metamorphosis, and inclusion, where one can achieve one's dreams in a positive and productive way. He was brimming with life and love of humanity. His presence will be missed.

see http://www.necn.com/Boston/Arts-Entertainment/2009/11/06/The-story-of-legendary-street/1257555629.html

the last dragonfly

Autumn's full moon still bounces around in night shadows as the stubborn leaves remain firmly attached, though much changed in color from the functional photosynthetic green.
Now is the time, in the city, for a new gallery season, a new season of symphonies and musical events and of course, the influx of the exciting chattering of new students and the energy and enthusiasm of their fresh efforts. It is a time of storm windows, draining hoses and pulling out the layers of clothes needed to stave off the ever lowering temperatures outside. It is a time of nesting and new projects. It is also a time to go out to favorite conservation haunts to walk through mounds of colored leaves and shuffle them up in the air with ones feet; to see through the forest, now that much ground cover is withered; and on a warm day before the first heavy frost, see the last of this year's dragonflies, always companions in the wetlands and ponds of the summer strolls.

the beaches

After many months of the late summer and now deep into autumn, I return to attempt to share what goes on in this corner of the world, at least my experience of it. I am moved to start up again after seeing a wonderful documentary by Agnes Varda on her life and work as a film maker...it is a moving and insightful look at the making of cinema and a playful encounter with agnes and the players in her life. It is making the rounds, and I believe it is part of the upcoming Copenhagen International Documentary Film Festival (aka CPH:DOX), 6-15 Nov. The film is titled Les Plages d'Agnes (The Beaches of Agnes)...Highly recommended!!