Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Old New York New New York

Remember that Silver Lining They told you about?   Well! 

I’ve decided to live forever it seems easier that way. No after-plans to worry about, No wills to contest, no stuff to throw out, no relentless fading away. I know, I know, I’ll need perfect health, and a large estate with unlimited wealth. How hard can that be when there’s plenty of time to devote to those back-burner projects of mine? All right, I’ll be lonely, but nevertheless... Now wait just a second, I might reassess! There’s a chance, so I hear, (now don’t misunderstand) that we're already destined for after-life land. And what if it’s better up there than down here even wealthy and healthy, year after year? Maybe I’ll leave things the way that they are for now, since my plans are not getting too far.   Irrelevant Photo of Peeling Birch

Cell by cell the net was covering my soul, closing the gap between the ventricles and oracles, between the murmurs and the valves. Who cares anyway? I’m tired of it all, barely even filling up the space between the lines. Why did you have to vaporize the growing lattice, causing me to crave the morning, listening with a pulsing heart, wagering with sacred pieces stitching up the space between us? Sometimes I wish it hadn’t happened, but it did! Well, who cares anyway?  Not me, I’ve had my fill; Can I still believe in miracles?

Here we have one of the many collections of items that assemble themselves on what would otherwise be vacant lots. Collection of useful-looking items behind ABC carpet in the Bronx

New York City:  Fifth Avenue in the 90s

Party Host Contemplating Kitchen Counter

Standing in line among the lost; at last, with nowhere else to go except to the land of reminiscence Dwelling on the paths we took as naturally as pie, while missing all those other chances. We wandered on the lanes of memory-- bowling lanes, traffic lanes, Elaine’s, swim lanes-- those mighty lanes that might have been, those gusty, rain-filled single lanes along the country fields. There was that bit of pink and yellow by the tar-paper shed, next to the cottonwood And the 50 gallon fuel tank, over by the spare tire with the petunia bed. An aproned woman on the low wooden porch, pink cream and yellow peaches, coffee cake and burning wood. Yes, that is exactly how it was.

Going! Going!! Gone...

Uptown playground.  Do not go near the steps

But where is the effing sound??? Maybe tomorrow. Two days and a couple of technical meltdowns for esoteric but not exotic or interesting technical reasons (they are so seldom interesting and so often imprisoning), I have posted this experiment in video. This is no funny cat video, no dogs are skateboarding, no babies doing anytning at all.

Cresting & smashing, Snarling & curling, Lifting up & letting go, Sucked at last into the sandy dunes. The end of the affair, The final caption, The last footprint, The i is dotted and the t is crossed, The day folds up into evening. Nothing left but grey-green sea grass.

A Doctor's Office:  Meditation

Classroom    -   Joan Long 2012, Watercolor ( Exhibition--National Academy Museum and School of Fine Arts) Joan Long

The Power of Yellow. 

When there’s only a streak or two left from the settling sun, when only dusk and grain remain from the contrasting blue, then dark green shadows burrow into the soul, where even love escapes from destiny

We have seen fall, winter, now summer.  Can we remember spring?

We almost knew it would happen: Our dear and brave young sapling left us a seed! Meet Jr.Sap, who is almost one year old! Even now, Jr.Sap is tending to a few other rock -born beings. Blockhouse at outh end of the Central Park Reservoir