February 5, 2013

February Poem Series | Charles Simic’s Love Poem

Feather duster. Birdcage made of whispers. Tail of a black cat. I’m a child running With open scissors. My eyes are bandaged. You are a heart pounding In a dark forest. The shriek from the Ferris wheel. That’s it, bruja With arms akimbo Stamping your foot. Night at the fair. Woodwind band. Two blind pickpockets in the crowd.
February 4, 2013

Quotecard: “The Citizens of the Streets”

Walkers are “practitioners of the city,” for the city is made to be walked. A city is a language, a repository of possibilities, and walking is the act of speaking that language, of selecting from those possibilities. Just as language limits what can be said, architecture limits where one can walk, but the walker invents other ways to go.—Rebecca Solnit,
February 2, 2013

Blog: At Terra Manna Before January Ended

January is a day shy of leaving. And yet this served as the first entry for this year. I realized that I actually started this journal on New Year’s Eve 2012  with a list of goals I desired to achieve before the year ended. I achieved some. Others remained as goals. This very entry can be taken as a sign that my undiaried, unwritten—perhaps
October 23, 2012

QUOTECARD: Virginia Woolf on Sea

  So fine was the morning except for a streak of wind here and there that the sea and sky looked all one fabric, as if sails were stuck high up in the sky, or the clouds had dropped down into the sea.—Virginia Woolf, “To the Lighthouse”