Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Friday, May 27, 2011

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

That Very Moment


never without a chuckle

No Holds Barred



Flicking through years of past journals...
there it was,
snaking through the pages, threading years together.

My holding pattern(s)

'All that darkness and anger is just your ego in a
self-reinforcing vicious cycle of petty nonsense.'

I'm turning 24 next month,
and I won't spend another minute wallowing in all that negativity,

not one damn minute.

Monday, May 23, 2011

The Mind Wanders

 Dead End (1937)  (via:nevver:Why so glum, Chum?)

'time she stopped
sitting at her window
quiet at her window
only window
facing other windows
other only windows
all eyes
all sides
high and low
time she stopped'

By Samuel Beckett
From Rockaby (1980)

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Post Party Lounge

White Out, via Alkeemi Paintings

I'm the youngest of my friends and yet,
I take the least interest in
'partying'

Friday, May 20, 2011

'I don't feel guilt. Whatever I wish to do, I do.'


I'm pleased to admit that I've spent the entirety of my evening
drinking wine, snacking, and last but not least....
doing so while flying through the four hour BBC series
Tess of the D'Urbervilles.

Prepare yourself ladies for a
sob ending.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Spinning

Dear John,


If you say Yes, I go.
If you say No, I stay.

Yay or Neh,
I'll become the decision whole heatedly.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Banjo Folk Festival


Fine tunes on a mighty fine sunday,
Roamin' the Paramount Ranch.

Sunday Mood

by Jess Gough

'Our imagination flies; we are its shadow on the earth.'
-Vladimir Nabokov

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

To Roam



"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."

Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese”

Mantra : Breathe

hollyhocksandtulips

On holding strong.
I must keep rest from over exertion.
breathe new life into daily movements.
allow the room to breathe...
while keeping my eyes on the horizon.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Pangs

http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4063/4523834898_2bbcf4ae62.jpg

Heading back West this afternoon.
I must and I will.
but the pangs of leaving family and
returning to work will hold strong.

till the future,
-lu

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Friday, May 6, 2011

Washed Ashore

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H2Wna3llnPY/TcC1T9kwCwI/AAAAAAAAERQ/xjzVAb1AUHY/s1600/Mervyn+O%2527Gorman1913.jpg
Lt Col. Mervyn O'Gorman, his daughter Christina at Lulworth Cove, 1913


i'm
giving up the

fight


the induced insomnia
the yearning for some change
the hope of progress

i'm giving up on

ignoring

what i really need.



Thursday, May 5, 2011

Ay, caramba!

v a c a t i o n
simple pleasures

Almost Time



To Perfect the Summer Lounge.

When Home

Marc Chagall, 1977

marshall fields, tiffany mosaic ceiling 1907

Yesterday, I meandered some old stomping grounds:

The Art Institute of Chicago
and
Marshall Field's
(now Macys)

It's good to be home.

Monday, May 2, 2011

This Very Moment

'Your head is a living forest full of song birds'

“Your head is a living forest full of song birds.” - e.e. cummings  Engraving: Albín Brunovský Thank you, kateoplis.

But because truly being here is so much; because everything here
apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in some strange way
keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all.
Once for each thing. Just once; no more. And we too,
just once. And never again. But to have been
this once, completely, even if only once:
to have been at one with the earth, seems beyond undoing.
- Rainer Maria Rilke