today was: staying in bed, cigarettes, and arthur miller. but damn it was beautiful weather, so glad i got these windows.

How will it be

to lie in the sky

without roof or door

and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift

how will I hide?
Mary Swenson, Question

A man sees a tiny couple in the distance, and thinks they
might be his mother and father.
But when he gets to them they’re still little.
You’re still little, he says, don’t you remember?
Who said you were supposed to be here? says the little
husband. You’re supposed to be in your own distance; you’re
still in your own foreground, you spendthrift.
No no, says the man, you’re to blame.
No no, says the little man, you’re out of proportion. When
you go into the distance you’re supposed to get smaller. You
mustn’t think that we can shrink and sell all the time to suit everybody coming out of the distance.
But you have it wrong, cries the man, we’re the same size, it is you who are refusing to be optically correct…

Russell Edson, The Optical Prodigal

having neither planes nor curves nor angles,

are composed of a continuous satiny white membrane

like the flesh of some interior organ of the moon.

It is a living surface, almost wet.

Lucency breathes in and out.

Rainbows shudder across it.

And around the walls of the room a voice goes whispering,

Be very careful. Be very careful.

My bed in the boughs, my blanket the clouds.

And this bed above the world, it's so full, just myself and my imaginary bedfellows who soak in secrets and keep me warm.

i live in a tree house.

one thing has nothing to do with the other,

but both are still true.

Gin, David St John

You know, your friends complain. They say

You give up only the vaguest news, and give a bakery

As your phone. Even your stories

Have no point, just lots of detail: The room

Was long and bright, small and close, angering Gaston;

They turned away to embrace him; She wore

The color out of season,

She wore hardly anything at all; Nobody died; Saturday.

These disguises of omission. Like forgetting

To say obtuse when you talk about the sun, leaving

Off the buttons as you’re sewing up the coat. So,

People take the little

They know to make a marvelous stew;

Sometimes, it even resembles you. It’s not so much

You cover your tracks, as that they bloom

In such false directions. This way friends who awaken

At night, beside you, awaken alone.

Body, Alissa Leigh

Washed by the rough nurse of morning,

wheeled into the ward of the afternoon,

feeds, grateful, on the rich broth of dusk.

Reads the erratic cards of dreams,

turns on the rack of insomnia,

steals the two-bit grace of sleep.

Loses its name in foreign embraces,

forges a passport to the country of tenderness,

gestures like a child at the thing that it wants,

opaque from its own breath on the glass.

Are you ready for this?
From Rails in Tears to this image, about Chatsky & Sofya from Woe from Wit.
Go ahead laugh, I just wish I was Russian.

Hello darling, sorry about that.

Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we

lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell

and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.

Especially that, but I should have known.

You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together

to make a creature that will do what I say

or love me back.

So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalog

of non-definitive acts,

something other than the desperation.

Dear So-and-So, I'm sorry I couldn't come to your party.

Dear So-and-So, I'm sorry I came to your party

and seduced you

and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

Your want a better story. Who wouldn't?

watch the eff out!

I figured life out,
and by life I do mean how to get my pictures from hard drive to computer to internet.
Other than that- nothing.
So watch out, today will be a day of updations.
make sure you scroll down to catch all of it!

oh you know, minor texas stuff, the goodness is underwraps until i can work through everything and get it edited...

thanksssgivin

the Bob stopped by for some pie and wine after the fam dinner,
and of course i couldn't resist hammin for the cam!

slaughter reunion

a weekend in savannah would not be complete without the slaughterdogs!
maybe the last time we will all be together for a Very Long Time.
Jimmy's movin across the country to get away from us, Will lives in the Flerrida & commutes to Savannah, and ElWanda's hiding in Connecticut.

fire night

the week before thanksgiving, in savannah for the J&C wedding
i was a little stoked that this went down in my own future backyard.