lincoln park haiku
breeze blows in languid summer
lying in sunlight
leaves fall from Madrona tree
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the last whispers of winter
her broken wings find reparation cage door ajar the songbird finds her song in the last whispers of winter
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to what end, technology?
Update on 10/24/2024: There used to be an embedded video here of animated robots reading a Keats poem from a site called xtranormal. I made some fun videoS there when it was still around. Sadly, I didn’t download most of them so they are lost. Like so many things. ~KdL I enjoy my comfortable life…
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faith | grace | inspiration | photography | quotes | self-excavationpositivity (have you had your plus signed today?)
If Mr. Crouch can get an audience member to believe he had his arm raised the during an entire performance when he hadn’t once raised it, what can we convince ourselves?
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- art | inspiration | mystery | photography | poetry | projects | the delicious now | writing process
poems from the frye. 2. [more a movement]
Recently, I spent several hours alone at The Frye Art Museum drinking in the “Moment Magnitude” exhibit. I wrote pages in my journal. Random things I overheard people saying, snippets from the art descriptions or the videos and my own feelings and thoughts that arose. I also took pictures of things strangers had posted in…
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- mystery | photography | poetry
here i am
i am the sower of seeds you didn’t know you want planted in your heart i am death knocking at the door of your complacency let me in i am the arrow of Light that shoots through the darkness piercing you through aeons we have called to one another here i am come on! it’s…
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- grace | healing | self-excavation | truth
lenses
I have learned that when people are determined to see me through a dark lens, they won’t be talked out of it. I have, however, learned that it’s their lens not my truth. That’s a good feeling.
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