Why does the tree Bear so much fruit? Every year? . Mum reads books and says Out of the two million seeds of a beech One becomes a tree. . If the tree was goal-driven, it would grow depressed and give up after the first million. Is there joy in bringing fruit? By that, in … Continue reading Why does the tree
Nature tells me Do what you have to do. If you get cut down, grow Feed your children And if you can't Abandon the ones that won't survive. . We will all be back here Whether as hungry ghosts Human souls Moss Whether we take on this gentle, soft human form on again or not … Continue reading Nature tells
Pasha, I remember your room full of suitcases, wigs manequins and – what the heck else? One of 7 rooms. Was your mum's spirit in there? . I remember they were made of leather, not plastic, and one of them said 1956? I remember the photos from Cambridge. How did you get through there as … Continue reading Found in one of the suitcases
Personal reflections on decades of pseudo-nomadism, packing, love, meaning, painting, and generally pretending to have an adventurous and deep life.
I saw clouds of sadness of slowness I was welcoming solitude with a safety net with an "other shore". . I'm not sure why it's so difficult: either I am with you, and then I feel the compulsion to know in each split second what exactly you expect from me, what to say, what to … Continue reading Torn between the company of humans, of nature, of self. Some perhaps autistic perspectives.
I walked out into the woods talking with you one the phone until darkness fell and I had to find my way back with the deer crossing. . So you say you've been a man, just like I've been a woman. Sometimes you still are. I know, I see that duality, although I'm not sure … Continue reading Sabbath of the (trans) witches at the red river
This post is what it says on the can. Relatively relaxing and pensive piano music that I've played last night at 1 am while being completely tired, falling asleep (eyes closed), and not looking at the keys. This seems to be the most fun, to be honest. Just playing with textures, forgetting about harmony or … Continue reading Song played late night with eyes closed. Piano improvisation.