Monday, September 15, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Some weeks things have a resonance of all being connected. As if people subliminally read my mind without knowing it happened. Things repeat themselves. Maybe I shouldn't be shocked. Everything is a garden of possibilities. No two flowers are the same, or are they?
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
A recession is like shuffling the card deck a few times. I never know what to expect, but then sometimes things stay the same as if there were no shuffling. Shuffling is mostly good because I look in new places for new things, and I don't have to question why, because I don't have any choice. It's the same deck of cards, but shuffled.
Along the coast there are coves with stone beaches. The stones often define fresh water marshes. The grass grows all summer long in the marsh until it is very tall, and at the end of the summer, the wind seeps over the grass and weaves it together in tiny twirling tornados. In autumn the grass turns orange and then brownish just like the seaweed.