art, humor, and the universe
I’m an urban naturalist. That means that I love my city (Baltimore) and enjoy wandering around looking at its denizens-pigeons, squirrels, sparrows, starlings, seagulls, and the occasional cardinal and junco ( a sparrow size bird with white belly and black head). There is a pigeon roost near me-an abandoned building with concrete bricks that the pigeons adore. Here’s some pictures!
pink morning sky
a cardinal drops by
Lately I’ve gotten back into watercolor painting. The tree paintings were inspired by a photograph by my friend Sooyong Kim. I found a caterpillar pencil sketch from summer and decided to color it. The abstract came from testing colors on a scrape piece of paper but I really like it!
Spring is the time of death.
Look out the windows;
Mist and memory drift
from the verdant hills.
At road’s curb,
mangled
bat wing
slate sky.
I drive.
Death lays.
dream
salt sea foam
clams scurry
dig themselves
into sand
as the waves recede
we are young
i wrap
burgundy and cobalt
gauze scarf
about my torso
my nipples show
i reach out
to touch
your silken sandy curls
as cigarette smoke
sinuously rises
your voice rumbles
weakens my knees
Horizon eats sun,
bursting tangerine.
Bold azure,
golden sky,
I pick up the laundry.
Night steals in,
blueberry cloud patches
brushes cornflower dome sky.
Laundry bag slung over shoulder
I gaze
above the knoll of weapons.
Pale rotund moon
strangled gently
by
silver
spider
strands.
Dark night,
sea seeps into sky.
I make footprints,
sand soft against my soles,
soft against my soul,
dipping my feet
at the ocean’s edge.
First light fills the sea.
Sable brushes
against sky.
Ebony ripples
topped
by pale whitecaps.
Still,
the sea is monotonously calm.
One small wave
lands at my feet.
Clouds fall into horizon.
Sky grows lavender
and pale azure,
flaunts charcoal clouds.
Rain
comes.
I
walk.
East,
stirring of orange glow.
By my right shoulder,
moon peers through clouds.
Sandpipers descend
from
wherever they spend the night.
Feast on
tiny shoreline organisms.
Nimbly avoid
the sweep of waves.
Race forward
and back
from water’s edge.
Skim across the sand
in a motley crew,
in a ballet of
choice
&
fate.
Now,
Bach’s major chords.
Lemon, rose, violet commingle,
create
a path to the horizon.
Clouds consume rising mist.
West light expands.
Sun capers
in cloud mountain  peaks,
rises from the sea.
Indigo clouds stretch,
unveil coral cumulous,
so fluffy
I could eat them.
Cloud column rises from sea,
lays against green sky.
Thunder crashes,
booms.
Lightening cracks open sky.
Heat leaps from sand.
Moist
heat
rises,
cocoons me.
North turquoise sky,
dusky blue ocean.
I turn south,
purple horizon,
salmon undercoat,
azure and lemon overlay.
Creation
every day.
Bridge ahead,
moving mists
hover above it.
Tantalizing
changelings,
or drifting souls,
dare me to drive
through
and beyond them.
I hesitate in apprehension
and reverence.
The clouds roll and seethe
in waves and mountains.
I step on the gas.
Metamorphosis
awaits.
I will not keep
the rose and ochre
shells
and ebony skate egg case.
I’ll throw them back
to the sea.
Release
and
redemption.
“I am traveling
through the fires of hell
to God’s right hand,”
said Dan.
I knew little of his journey, but
one time he told me,
“Dad would
knock us upside the head,
beat the shit out of us.”
Then Dan joined the army.
I do not know more of his passage,
how Charon ferried him across
and how he bribed his way out
pass Cerebus’ three heads.
But
here and now,
we are
in this church of light,
learning to sit
and stand
and move in space,
learning to hear
and see
and touch
all over
again.
gaia mouse 