It is not the sunrise itself,

that we remember,

but the long moments before

when the edge is stretched ad infinitum

in all directions.

She sat, coffee luke warm,

watching this, wondering that,

Getting up, walking away, and then

for memory, glancing back.

What did you expect to see?

Did you want this to be how you recall

your morning? Cell phone alarm, tranquil light,

hiss of coffee, and a quick walk to catch what you might be missing.

Meshes of the Afternoon

translated poetry from hidden text found along the spine of a copy of Don Quixote

Cartographic Errors

Found while sorting through my old books
11th May 201412:083 notes
An Early Learning Center
19th Apr 201409:081 note

The best truths are found between moments, plants growing in the cracks

excerpt from Flores Raras by Marcela Solier

To write is to begin
a process of thought, my
mind wanders down
a path of which I cannot
tell the destination

from my sketch book, 2012

…out of curiosity I entered a courtyard and into Europe; a church sanctuary, 10 000 preserved stained glass windows; an atmosphere of Catholicism without the fluff?


from my sketch book, 2012

“We asked the captain what course 
of action he proposed to take toward 
a beast so large, terrifying, and 
unpredictable. He hesitated to 
answer, and then said judiciously: 
'I think I shall praise it.'”

- “Praise”, by Robert Hass
Robots watch the moon too

pinhole camera and text

Opaque  by  andbamnan