an old poem

my past self

There is evidence

of it having been here--

sliding fresh along green earth.

Must have slithered softly down

and away behind that rosebush there--

where it has left something dry,

and fragile.

december, 2008

from "Visions of Gerard"

"What's the color of God?--"

"Blanc d'or rouge noir pi toute--White of gold red black and everything--" is the translation.

enjoying the echo.

I usually fall asleep listening to Alan Watts. Here is one of the more important bits from last night:

"If you learn that self consciousness has limits, that self awareness cannot possibly enable you to be free of making mistakes, you can learn to be spontaneous in spite of being self aware and enjoy the echo."

*photo taken in the Reína Sofía Museum in Madrid. Art by Juan Muñoz.