a place to put things, like a shelf

Duck, Duck! Skipped through February, a small amount of pep in my step growing into a hop.  New things, new juggles, good thing I'm a jester . Making good on some goals, making better on others.  Reading books that make you feel like someone else gets it!  Putting words to thoughts I knew I wanted to say.  Not so original now! But maybe that's the whole point? An appendix of reference without any form of notation. A mixing bowl full of bits and pieces and all chopped up and scooped in. No hierarchy. And suddenly now it's June: When it rains it pours but when the sun shines so bright! I am sunburnt and alive. My gratitude grows with every passing day, abundance in my garden even if I need to weed. And while there certainly is growth in some regards, there's nothing quite like the delight of remembering every single time. I feel lucky (most of the time) that I don't know how to be any way other than myself. Learning how to play cards is a different game. Many hands ma...

Fellow pinchers-- I'm digging without a shovel, boots not tall enough to clear the snow. I'm full of the spirit of podge and other delights. I have had cold toes since October but I'm not wavering in my commitments.  I have resolve! I can be disciplined. Things I want, things I know: Belief so loud it feels like a revelation. If I decide I can do something I can do it. That's the power of strength.  (more saving, more doing) A goat could climb anything.  This cat can't stay away from my foraging.  Any battle could be picked. (nothing bad could ever happen to me, I'm constantly laughing) I've narrowed it down. Three modalities of practice: 1. The “found” image, a sight that calls for being translated. Intentional looking and something akin to divine intervention-- a sudden “that’s it” moment. 2. The “produced” image, a curated still-life. Either an idea for play, or the necessity of needing new subjects, allowing composition and content to float by. 3. T...

Rats! Now that it's been a year (and change) of documenting, reflections: I always love a puzzle, a list is a great way to be succinct, and my use of perhaps (while frequent) is not actually correlative to my certainty. I have waxed and waned and yawned and kept my feet on the ground by jumping.  Here is a place to put a letter that doesn't have to apologize for its belation. everything is a sign if you're reading it Something akin to an assortment of resolutions: - letting the flames be fanned even if sometimes (or especially when) the wood is wet - trusting hands, leaping, walking like a sideways crab-- unconventionally forward. - arranging priorities and caring even when unnecessary - cartography Consider the beans soon to be spilled. And use the can liquid for soups. I am thinking about the archive more broadly than just this box too, and I love to archive in a box, and what good is a spring cleaning by the time winter rolls around? Any dumpster bear spotted could b...

Boo! I've been hiding my work from the internet (other than this corner, and even finished pictures from here too). With that I have been hiding my work from most other sets of eyes, which I have rationalized to having a purpose. The phone doesn't do it justice: the real eyeballs look so much more fully.  Hands want to touch. But! With every passing day since depositing the rest of the work of the same scale into the space I grow more impatient for a way to say hey! look at this!  No, really, look at this: It's good to take up space. It's good to take up space when it feels good, and sometimes it's important to remember that it can feel good.  Ping pong game with no one in particular but myself: I'm so full, I'm so full of it. I want to understand how to contain the object. The first frames sit so tight they shrink the thing they're supposed to hold up. (some irony there I imagine). The walls (t)here have been shifting what I think surrounding tonal...

Making contact! I updated the work calendar which now covers through mid December which felt like a reoccurring reckoning with the year closing. Something about a seasonal shift....... Aggressive squirrels. A week or more (more) ago I was late to dinner at the bosses house because I had to pluck a chin hair and consider my mortality. It's like the bangs all over again. But the moon has been huge, a hot drink is on the horizon, and the dogs bountiful. A fire that gets to be inside soon! And it wouldn't plug in. Note to self: sit outside for about eight minutes and usually feel refurbished. A month as a list: Going back to the crab, L show, even in registrar inbox Sasha Gordon and Major General First in Command Frufru like sake toast, community like pot luck Matching fear with preparation Mountain top charm, kneading seat, pairing with blue Dogs and other companionship Fearless of heat I go to eat the hot star, and other words in a airborne airstream. There's something o...

Wee!! Three weeks ago I was getting in the lake every day, floating and peeing and reading and painting on rocks and saying summer is most certainly not over and today I swept fallen leaves out of the house, so what is an ending if not a new beginning and over and over again-- all of these cycles happening constantly but at slightly different speeds. Puzzle pieces clicking lately. Major thanks to M&B and their garage of mice and me, me and mice, mice and I am always finding a mouse wherever I go. I have been saying I'm feeling awfully like a very big small rodent. Chew chew chew. It's like I've been fitting so much in lately and somehow things are starting to measure. I'm 26 and splitting wood. I'm focusing on squeezing everything I can out of each lemon even if I'm squeezing eight lemons at once. It's time to bake a tart? It's good to be full, it's good to keep running even when on empty, it's good to take a cat nap and wake up equal pa...

Fellow shovelers-- Maybe Irma was wrong and time is in fact not on my side.  The rain is pouring outside exactly one window. Yours in a way that won't stop digging, E