Seattle

Seattle Photos-Blue-Green Reflections

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Pastoral

When I was younger
it was plain to me
I must make something of myself.
Older now
I walk back streets
admiring the houses
of the very poor:
roof out of line with sides
the yards cluttered
with old chicken wire, ashes,
furniture gone wrong;
the fences and outhouses
built of barrel staves
and parts of boxes, all,
if I am fortunate,
smeared a bluish green
that properly weathered
pleases me best of all colors.

No one
will believe this
of vast import to the nation

–William Carlos Williams

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Popular music which reminds me of blue-green reflection:

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Seattle Photo-Ship Slidin’ Away

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Happy Belated Easter!

I remain convinced that a blog/online presence is secondary to life. A way to document one’s experiences with the things that really matter (many ideas really matter).

Most social media doesn’t seem worth making one’s Self small to fit in the sewer pipes of online communication (a work in progress, these pipes).

Don’t get me wrong, we all gotta pay the rent. I have some admiration for the desire not to starve. God Bless the ones who make me laugh.

The most interesting writers of the day are usually idea merchants; spreading down their cloths upon the cobbles. I admire people gifted enough to display the thoughts of others as though their own.

Living takes it out of you. When you need ideas, may you find what you need. Most importantly, the thoughts you have become your habits, and your habits become your character.

No one gets out alive.

I think that’s why we have this old and important story about the Resurrection…

Seattle Photo-Breakfast At Bistro Dumpster

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Northwest crows live in territorial family groups; foraging constantly for food. From dawn to dusk, you can find the usual customers, at the usual places, at the usual times.

They are cautious, and like a high, safe perch from which to view the world. Upon discovery of a new food source, they scope out the scene carefully, swooping down to ground-level only after the coast is clear.

Seattle Photo-Stripes & Train

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Do you guys remember the old Amtrak baggage car/American Airlines logos?

Engage your sense-memory. No one will find you here. No one.

***Except for the good folks at DataCorp Inc, specifically the Eye Tracking training-unit (shout out to Teddy). Also, I should advise that engagement metrics could be used to curate responsible citizenship through train-travel at Amtrak and the DOT, too (efficient and caring).

****Michael’s cousin Peter knows a guy, and some ‘Colombians?‘ are running terabytes of data in old Dell hard-drives (yes, really) around Cape Horn. Your data could be in there, too.

Thanks for looking.

Seattle Photos-A Gull, Considered

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This was Harry at his most presentable: A shrewd cunning in stillness. Perhaps, he’d even brought me a question.

He was half-again as large as the other gulls near the Market. Not respected, maybe, but feared.

My mind would wander to thoughts of freedom, watching his wings dip and scissor, cutting the air. Sometimes I would watch his eyes, too, scouring the ground for food and the sky for other birds.

The constant shrieking and territorial displays were better than silence, Dear Reader, especially if thoughts of death crept in (how much I missed L). 

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Harry had other behaviors: Gobbling fish guts and slurping coffee directly from the street. One day, he’d snatched a french-fry mid-air from a child’s fingers. After the shock and a brief consolation, we smiled in mutual surprise.

Clever, I suppose.

In short, Harry didn’t give a shit. 

In fact, the bird shit wherever he pleased.

This is where our story begins…

Seattle Photo-Don’t Buy That Condo!

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The photo’s all real. Just playing around with some text.

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Kojak’ll chase a perp down a garbage-strewn alley on the lower East Side. Right around minute fifty, just before the last ads for life insurance and Polident. 

Someone’s gotta let the mother of another dead hooker taste a little justice. 

Maybe a sharply-spoken word unloosens memory; a lost soul’s dreams, floating to some place in the sky.

Maybe amidst the stench of dopeheads and their dealers, greed and thoughtless action..a splash of Old Spice reminds us all of a little thing called hope. 

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This is my favorite:

Seattle Photo & A Poem By Richard Wilbur

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Today, rousing from sleep, if your first sight was that of a young couple consumed by one another, silent within the silences of conversation, would it be as dark as the following?

I hope not!

Thanks to a reader.

From Richard Wilbur’s ‘Love Calls Us to the Things of This World’

               …“Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry,   
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising steam
And clear dances done in the sight of heaven.”

    Yet, as the sun acknowledges
With a warm look the world’s hunks and colors,   
The soul descends once more in bitter love   
To accept the waking body, saying now
In a changed voice as the man yawns and rises,   
    “Bring them down from their ruddy gallows;
Let there be clean linen for the backs of thieves;   
Let lovers go fresh and sweet to be undone,   
And the heaviest nuns walk in a pure floating   
Of dark habits,
                      keeping their difficult balance.”