Showing posts with label denver. Show all posts
Showing posts with label denver. Show all posts

Monday, December 30, 2013

Light cycles

Slowly the light sources readjust, preparing for a new spring.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

DIA: Design in Absentia?

OK. I am usually very accepting of interesting sorts of conglomerates.   I mean, if an architect wants to bend reality and create a  sort of Arabian, Vatican, Mongolian, Tee Pee-shaped Yurt-lookalike hut collection, it is really OK with me.

Furthermore, If you want to put these symbolically unfortunate constructions on top of an airport for some reason, go ahead and  negotiate it with the political context of the time. If they don't lose my baggage, I will assume it is some sort of Frank Gehry Neuveaux Shape-Shifting ideation.

So my question is:  Who, how, when, why --and  especially, where did they find an architect to match these glaringly haute couture-draped forms-in-search-of-a-function with that unbelievable 5 or 6 story Moscow- of-the-50s parking garage in the foreground?  The whole thing is --there must be a word....

20121227 Denver International Airport, no kidding.-DSC_2436.jpg
Denver International Airport, 2013

Sunday, December 23, 2012

A Moment of Quiet

Screeching and crashing
Fast^ Buy@ Sell# Now%
Substitution Satisfaction
Buying time for beauty
Prying out a life

20121225-pond in rural westminster colorado.jpg
Rural Denver 2012

Saturday, December 22, 2012

There's no place like a home away from home for Christmas!!

DENVER -- December 21, 2012 (prior to the end of the world)


Sunday, August 26, 2012

A Summer Palate

Long ago & far away
That exquisite string of life sewed us to the earth.
Clotheslines climbing over backyards,
Wet sheets bleached by sunshine,
Breezes lifting up the drying edges.
Water from a vacation spring,
Iron spigot smelling cold,
Quivering leaf reflections,
Mountain muddy,
Washed in micro-studded sand.
Magic waters alive with  sharp spruce,
Blue jays and hummingbirds,
Grey rough pine twigs snapped off for kindling. 
Doorway dreams of Grizzly Bears attacking porches
Just in time for morning.

Monday, August 1, 2011

I’m not here and I’m not there.

I’ve fallen down a cleft in a cavern of my mind,
into an injured ocean rich with silty buried treasures. 

I lost my bearings in the straights of memories 
between that shore where tall pines needle their way 
into my wounded life to weave up the fray,
and that cityscape of stoops and hot manhole covers 
built to hold out against the winter steam.

Snagged in the rift, my wayward toe is caught by the  monster sea:
Waiting, lying, keening,

 “There will always be time for love and time for making do. “
vacation crestone steamboat 166
The Old Denver Post Office and Courthouse