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Archive for May, 2010

saying that’s not what i
meant
when i did
meaning i didn’t mean
for you to get
so hurt

maybe

*

written in response to a poem by Robert Lew

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My flight on Saturday was pretty amazing.

I drove through hail and sleet in Everett and was amazed to see the sky clearing to the north, when I could see at all, over Arlington.

My CFI A –, said it was okay to fly but we’d have to watch the weather closely. There were patches of blue overhead, but storms were moving around to the West and South. Bits of snow were swirling about.

We were back in the Evektor Sportstar LSA this time. I did the radio for the first time. “Arlington this is sports start… taking the active… Arlington.” (more…)

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it is with no small supply
of pebbles that we
pelt each others’
ponds

debris from the bottom
is stirred up

orange fish flash
among the green and blue
obscured by the silt

*

moments shared
show
shifted singular perceptions
history, disposition, and even gender

only parallax experience
knowing the different distance
between
me and you

the comparison of two
points of view

can give us any measure
of the one
event

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i am of the earth
humus and clay

eroded experience
composted wood and feathers

open and receptive

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Scud

The Snoqualmie was a zoo this weekend. Everyone was there. I took Elaine up Saturday and she decided to carry her beach chair on her back but changed her mind about the flower press (thank god) and left it in the truck. She did manage to catch a nice trout – second time fly fishing – and then sat in the chair and read. I told her some people pay $400 for a guide to show them how to catch a fish like that. Plus tip. She bought me a hamburger and a beer later that night at the North Bend Bar and Grill and I was very appreciative. It was a particularly tasty hamburger.

Anyway as we were going up river yesterday, this couple was coming down, they were obviously local white trash – cigarettes, tattoos and a spinning rod – even though the river is catch and release and fly-fishing only… Elaine is always friendly to who ever she sees so we stop and say hello.

(more…)

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rain drops never reaching the ground
letters, poems written but unsent
phone calls never made

moisture leaves the saturated overburdened clouds
lightening their load
but no water hits the ground
and seeds can’t sprout

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A note on event time –
I had always heard about event time as an opposite to ‘clock time’. Whereas people with watches see time as absolute and measured in ticks, more indigenous and tribal people who live with clocks, more in touch with the seasons and rhythms of the earth perceive time and even space quite differently.

But on googling it now – I don’t get much on it – but I don’t think I made up the idea or the term … (although if I blog here and no one else has did I? Another funny time question.)

I know I started thinking about it when I spent a lot of time some years ago looking at African Sculpture and art from the Pacific Islands at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC. With huge hands, but short arms, large feet, sexual organs and faces, but small legs and torsos it was as if space itself was compressed and expanded in direct proportion of the perceived importance, of the body parts.

I know I read somewhere that this tribal sense of time and space differed from our ‘clock-time’ a good deal. It was based on events.

I wondered what it would be like to live in a society where a wooden figure became a ‘Fetish’ object – the holder of prayers and thoughts and ideas by the ever-increasing number of nails pounded into it over time. (I wonder about this as well when I see staples on wooden light posts in the city – the layers of interwoven wire – all which is left of years of posts, messages now gone. Only the metal staple remains as a ghost of the idea a thread-bear payer flag.

Looking now online, I do find this article from the NY Times on-line with Martin Heidegger’s idea that time is defined by what fills it up …
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/05/health/05mind.html
I also notice these ideas in Cubism – particularly Picasso, David Hockney’s photo montages and in Chuck Close’s work where the whole is definitely made up of tiny particles of perceptions – in other words segments of time – and not always of equal duration according to a clock.

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waking up Sunday morning
suddenly
surrounded by possibilities

no longer trying too hard

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Sitting in the left seat for the first time was both very exciting and very comforting. Yesterday the weather at AWO was outstandingly beautiful and my instructor, although much younger than me, was relaxed and confident.

We walked around the airplane and he quizzed me about what I already knew – he complimented me for the knowledge I had while filling in what I lacked. The routine was familiar and encouraging.

“How much flying will I be doing?”

“Pretty much as much as you feel comfortable with -if you’re in trouble I’ll take the controls.”

(more…)

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Saturday morning
outside of class
on my own
without the teacher
no one to judge
in the company of my two cats
it’s easier to  stand on
one foot

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