THE MEDIUM

even with all the World's obsession with doom and gloom.......as I sat on the decking, listening to the birds and buzzing insects....watching last years old, tattered leaves falling, pushed away by Spring's buddings, Donovan's songs came wafting into my head like a scented breeze from morning hyacinths.......some stars, twinkling through the grey clouds of discontent..........the moon, rising, as it did before the Age Of Man....

A movie, whose name will not 'surface', still brings its influence on my 'art'.......I've 'looked around' in my mental labyrinths, but the 'title' just won't come to mind.......even with my oblique associative thinking process.......then, looking at my own image, I could only draw a parallel with Anthony Hopkin's Titus Andronicus.....an 'association' was Jessica Lang...having just watched her sing The Name Game from AHS, and reading a message about Ryan's working on a documentary project about the Aids Quilt.......Our creative brains work in so many ways to create the 'new' from all the old stuff that's stored away in our mental caverns.........There!....I knew it would 'surface'.....THE FALL!...Yea!...my mind is still operational! It took Jessica and Anthony to find The Fall.......I hope I can find The Spring next year, when it comes!

Memory's like a trip to Japan..........an impetus for change and simplification.... [ then, another book idea....."the zen of clutter" or "the glut of Zen" ]..... organizing memories into digital files and tossing the paperwork.....20 cubic yards into a mobile hard drive.......now, to the warehouse for a viewing of the stones that weight my life in an even more dramatic way.......What, a question not a subject, can be removed to produce a higher aesthetic, a clearer vie w of unobfuscated life ?.... Yet, there's the fear of emptiness hovering over the accumulation of particles which eventually form a giant, moving in an ever more fixed orbit about its dying sun....and i feel that you and you are a million miles away, then when we speak or see, the closeness beckons then falls away like a ghost from dreams that calls from the past......yet, again, when i turn to its yearning, it vanishes to another world.... The wrens have devoured a large bag of seeds ...

it's a bear, it's a cougar......no....it's not Superman, or even Ernest Hemingway......just the cosmic conundrum that I am, this morning......picking up the pieces of the puzzle that will create today.....a theme of sequestration and geniality against a background of interstellar noise and closer synaptic synergism......without the realms of the imaginations of others.......but, manifest though their imagined consciousness.....We are as much what others imagine us to be as what or whom we express ourselves as......