Breath on Glass


This week I received sad news, a friend and peer of mine, Marshall died this week suddenly. He was only 42 years old. We worked together on many projects over the last decade, and I found myself thinking much about the day I first met him. How a simple phrase he said to me, made me like him instantly, and perhaps in that phrase I caught and understood something about him, something that in many ways exemplified the way he lived his life. That day all of those years ago, we were both "pretending" to be grown-ups in our suits and dress clothes for a business meeting, where he was presenting information about a site, that he felt strongly needed to be cleaned up and I was effectively one of the clients. He was in-front of me as we filed into the conference room, full of managers and decision makers, and I remember asking him who all of these people, and he said nothing but JAFOs-and I whispered whats a JAFO, and he said I will tell you later. After the meeting he explained to me that a JAFO, was just another fucking observer. I liked him instantly and had the wonderful experience of working with him for many years. In all of the years that I knew him, he had a slightly off-beat left-of-center way of looking at things and approached his life with gusto, whether in work or play. Every time I came to Austin, he took me out to lunch to eat at Ross's, where the food was good and plentiful (he loved good food), and invariably the conservation went from work to home, to his cats and his wife Cecily who lit his world. I saw him last in Chicago where we both spoke on the same panel, and where once again we were "pretending" to be adults. What image I will hold in my mind of him, is him in jeans, a Hawaiian shirt, and sandals, his arm around his wife, at dinner in the midst of a great story. Marshall was never once a JAFO.

To Ward Off Unkind Spirits

and with string, broken glass and empty vessels man lays runes to ward off unkind spirits from the hills of their ancestors. The hills above this makeshift shrine are adorned with the art of another time, symbols that marked the terittory of a simpler people. The wind as it rolls off the mesa stirs, and the tinkling of glass, tin, aluminum and iron oxides fill the canyon and this talisman becomes a chime. In that moment all was fluid.

Virtual Me

My friend and fellow poet Arlene Ang designed these SIMs 3 characters as a virtual me, I asked for a short fat blond Avatar, the only pictures she had are the few of myself on my facebook page. The bottom photo is of me and my beautiful daughter Rachael. I love being virtual, I believe Arlene made me both prettier and blonder than I actually am, but I am okay with that, I especially love the animal print jogging-suit she dressed me in. Makes me want to buy SIMs 3 for my daughter, but it has been our experience that every time SIMs comes out with a new game version, it requires a bigger, better, faster computer, and frankly Rach wants a car for her 16th birthday, so there will be no SIMs upgrade at the house of Cook. I have been busy and still a bit in seclusion as far as poetry goes, my muse is still frozen, and I have absolutely no desire to unfreeze her, so far I am not worried, which perhaps should give me some pause, but so far I am okay with the status quo. I am however not even submitting, which is something I normally do when I hit a dry spell, but I can not even seem to whoop up some poetic ambition for that, not even my chapbook, which is done and I am mostly happy with. Not sure why, but for now I am gardening, photographing and spending time with my family and friends, perhaps it is just time to charge up my depleted batteries. With God's grace I am feeling groovy.

Artist in the Park

A photo of a artist in the park in Santa Fe, I am not happy with the photos, but I was intrigued with the artist, he was in front of me on the green as children were performing at the pavilion and as I listened to the music, I watched him completely absorbed in his own work. Pencils and brushes in one hand the canvas on the ground next to him, from where I was standing I could not see the painting. As I got up to leave, I turned around and got a glimpse of his work from the sidewalk. I used to dabble a bit with watercolors (poorly, awfully, badly) and oil pastels ( still poorly, badly, awfully but not quite as bad as the watercolors) and sometimes I wish I could transform the photos I take into paintings. I am home now for a few weeks and hope to catch up on posts, and emails and the weeding of my garden. I am feeling the desire to nest and wish at times I could reschedule my trip to Alaska to Thanksgiving, and simply stay home with Michael and Rachael and work on some home projects, Michael and Rachael are both redesigning their rooms Michael is redoing our joint office ( it looks great) and Rachael is voluntarily clearing out her room and her Daddy has agreed to help her draw out a new plan once the purging is complete. She is excited and is full of plans for a grown-up room. I would like to tackle the two living areas, new paint and new furniture for the front room and recycling the best of the front room for the back living room. I am feeling blessed with my family and mostly groovy.

Chicago Blooms

I like insects and flowers. I am not sure why. Perhaps it is because their own roles in life are well defined and simple, yet the service they provide is essential to all life. I find them fascinating, but I have an odd and random brain, and can spend hours watching them do their work. Chicago was wonderful and busy, with not enough play time to explore with my camera. I was able to go to the Art Institute of Chicago on Thursday night and the Fields Museum and I hope to be able to return to that wonderful city to spend more time in its museums and along the water's edge. In Chicago I took pictures of flowers and bugs ( of-course) and trains and boats. I can say I know a city by its blooms, they had holly-hocks, which do not grow well here, and their blooming season follows ours by 4-6 weeks. By the color of the hydrangea blooms, they have slightly acidic soils, and they get more rainfall than we do here in Texas. I digress, I spent the weekend catching up with one of my oldest friends ( I love you Bonnie-Jean) and enjoying my family. I am behind in weeding my garden and the birds ate my beautiful tomatoes while I was away. My garden is suffering in 103 weather and I am not sure it can survive much longer in this brutal heat. Yesterday at church the sermon was based on the music and lyrics of Bob Dylan and the movie Jerry Macguire, and I am still thinking about the heart of the sermon, which was inspiration, what inspires us, what is it that drives us and motivates us to the more. I am still recharging my batteries, and with Gods grace mostly groovy.

What's eating the Hibiscus

This little guy managed to eat a hole through the hibiscus bloom, I watched him eat from the flower off and on for nearly an hour as I was weeding. Weeding a job that never seems to get done, one I will be doing non-stop when I get back from Chicago. I tried on Saturday afternoon, but the heat was brutal after about an hour, I felt I had heat stroke. Yesterday was the Vans Warped Tour Concert, which surprisingly was okay. My daughter divorced me once she and her friends were inside the gate, but at her age that is to be expected. My favorite part of the event is waiting in line, where the young band members walk along the line with headphones, and ipods, talking one on one with the kids, sharing their music and trying to sell a few CD's. I love that this venue makes music accessible, and everyone there is their for the music. Music is universal, I also love to watch people, I spent hours watching the kids, from the teased mohawks, to the girl with the angel wings tattooed on her back, to the parents ( which are pretty easy to spot in this crowd) like pack mules for the kids, carrying blankets and water. I also heard some great music and some not so great music and I bought one CD from a band called Therefore I Am, a bit what I would call heavy metal, hard rock, ( which my 80s hearts loves) and the band signed it to The Rad Mom. My daughter is chopping on the bit to be allowed to go to these events without me, I am unsure when that will be. Some days it is close, other days I believe she will never have the maturity, but I keep hoping. Maybe next year. I however will miss the music.

So Whats Bugging You?

A locust shell from my garden, three different photos processed a bit differently, original, B & W, and two with artistic filters applied, an evening of fun playing around with photo shop. I found myself amazed at the outer skin, its perfect mimicry of life, how at a glance it seemed alive. I have been mostly hibernating again, and it feels good, my garden is almost back in order, and I am feeling more and more like myself of late. This week my daughter has been gone and my husband and I spent the week just enjoying the company of each other, practicing couplehood and it was wonderful. It took from Saturday through Thursday to begin missing my daughter ( don't tell her that). I am excited that she will be coming home today.

So whats bugging me is that I can not say no to my daughter when it comes to music concerts. Tomorrow we spend a day at an all day outside concert Vans Warped Tour, and honestly I can not get the least bit excited, I have been thinking about faking sickness, but truthfully I believe faking illness is simply bad karma ( though I have done it a time or two or more). We will be going to Vans Warped Tour, an all day multi-band venue, at Fair Park in 100 degree weather with 4 teenage girls ( just shoot me now), thankfully my sister-in-law Kim is coming with us, so I will have good company. Monday I go to Chicago to teach a class and to give a presentation at a conference. I am excited, I am going to go the Art Institute of Chicago on Thursday night and see the Monets. I would love to write like Monet painted. I am taking my camera.