Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

"Portrait of the Artist" !

dusty books
rearranged on shelves
for... what?

ancient bibles
"First-Year Quantum Theory"
long forgotten

trophies perhaps
from when I was young
when they mattered

And who might have lit the tapers in that sinister tower?

"I have given you the room in the tower..." - from the narrator's recurring nightmare in E.F. Benson's "The Room in the Tower" (a story that scared me silly when I was 10 or 11)

yup - always listened to the wrong music - never interested in sports - actually liked math, & did well in it (matrix theory excepted) - always too odd to be an insider - being outside suits me

Thanks Doreen! Been thinking about it since Steve commented, and I'm starting to realize that most of those little snapshots of family life probably didn't happen that night - but they did happen. Brian insists he was finishing his final year at UNH at the time - and if so, Betty wasn't yet pregnant...

"Never let the facts get in the way of a good story!"

winter short days, long nights cold and wet gloom and desperation the arctic wind claws at the cabin finding its way in through the cracks - so throw another log on the fire another loaf on the table refill your goblets and hoist them in remembrance of those who once sat at our table now their chair...

Thank you, Steve - stories keep the elders alive - my dad's gone, my mom is all but gone, my wife (now ex) is very ill - but they all live & thrive somewhere in the past. Someday we'll all be dirt - if we can only leave something behind, something that says not just "this was me" but "this is how it...

I like this - very noir. Can hear the rain pattering on the pavement, and somewhere a mournful sax

.....the woods has a lot of predators far better than I at catching little meals That's a fine point that I think gets overlooked sometimes - the Nature of predation. From a moralistic point of view, it looks unpleasant - but morality is something we invented to protect us from ourselves. Predation...

I had an infestation of flying squirrels several years back. They weren't content to confine themselves to the attic or within the walls - they were finding their way into my living quarters. I tried Havahart traps without success; so I set out a number of snap traps, but they weren't robust enough ...

such secrets
the stone wall must share
with the dog!

such a tender moment - so simply captured - visual haiku

frosty morning
treetops red with first light
eyes weep with cold

I still wax nostalgic about my old free-wheelin' Saab, redolent of weed while Mahavishnu roars from its sloping amphitheater rear deck...