Saturday, July 31, 2010

Hero status.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Image = my brain as I walked through the doors at 4:45. Last day; quietly rejoicing.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Garden 2, J. Lynch

For one swallow does not make a summer, nor does one day; and so too one day, or a short time, does not make a man blessed and happy.

Olde English Spelling Bee

Washed Out

"People take pictures of the Summer, just in case someone thought they had missed it, and to proved that it really existed."

Monday, July 26, 2010

Seven cat friends.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Um, stop it right now...sneaking out of the forest to steal mac&cheese.

Friday, July 23, 2010

"For You"

S.M., you should get paid for excavating.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

I'd rather be: park lazin' with some wine, cheese & crackers.

Steel wool time.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Aileen dislikes pugs.

Monday, July 19, 2010


I saw a woman that was completely missing her left arm. Her right arm and hand were severely deformed. She had a bespectacled little daughter who held onto the long, left sleeve of her mother's shirt as if nothing were missing. This woman wore her rings on a chain around her neck. It was beautiful.

Josef Frank

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Sunday, July 11, 2010


Friday night filterless.
Regrets and misplaced inquisitions
that Neverland bandaged.
Heading north,
with the world's best jukebox
by my side.
Slow dancing
with swordfish
and stingray,
My scales
tipped towards love.
Sometimes faces say it all,
for better and worse.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Uh-may-zing. Earnestly, I hope this family went everywhere dressed as such.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

"Do you make love with words?" -Stein

"The Joy of Life," Matisse (originally purchased by Gertude).


Wrought Iron Bees Nest.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


Seaport strolls,
suspension bridges,
and speculating on how many birds
die mid-migration,
whose bones line the oceans
in layers of history.
Taking steps of understanding,
and watching lights
that never burn out.
Beach blanket dream stores,
and ideas as numerous as the sand
that creeps into everything it touches.
Silence that envelops, and warms,
and rocks you like a boat on the open seas.
Stepping back to move forward.
Wishing on fireworks like dandelion puffs,
in the seventh month of the year.