I’m having a weird day. This image popped up in my Facebook feed last night. It’s not what created the weirdness, but definitely what took me from Guate-mala to Guate-peor. The work is by Norman Rockwell, and titled “The Young Lady With A Shiner”. She sold at Heritage Auctions today, November 8th, 2018. The first…
“Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them.” – Karl Popper, On the Paradox of Tolerance, in The…
Driving to the gallery today, I began thinking about the beautiful letter written to me the other day. The reader claimed “The Red Speck“, “stalked” her. The book would magically appear in places she hadn’t left it. The slim text “fell” on her chest twice while she slept… I love the idea of the book…
I received this beautiful letter of gratitude for having written The Red Speck in my email today. What an absolutely beautiful way to start the morning. Thank you for taking the time to express yourself. Letters like this encourage me tremendously. Thank you. “I really must tell you about my relationship with The Red Speck….
We decided to walk. It wasn’t far. I attempted conversation. My efforts were not matched. We walked in silence. The sun shone, warmth on my skin. Softened by the breeze. A perfect day. Silence, but for the leaves. I removed my glasses. From realism to impressionism in a breath. Royal Poinciana, baby mangoes and palms….
per·spec·tive pərˈspektiv/ noun perspective 1. the art of drawing solid objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other when viewed from a particular point. 2. a particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point…
What we love with passion undoes us. This is known. So in choosing love we accept death. Embrace it. Know that it comes regardless. Some claim to love life, yet simply fear death. The inevitable. They straddle the sidelines. Forever safe. From a comfortable distance. And they live. They exist. But what life is…
I went to speak with her last night. A perfect night. A warm and windy night. I approached the steps of her home. There she moved, in front of me. Divine. Glorious. Dancing. Naked and wild under the new moon. I smiled. She noticed. I approached lovingly. Respectfully. She tickled my feet with cool fingers….
There I sat. Back erect, verbalizing the sounds. Wondering if the ecstasy would return. …so long ago and far away… Slowly slipping into the familiar pattern. Falling into the rhythm, of each syllable. The recognizable cadence of an old friend. Working my way up. Grounding, releasing, willing. Loving, speaking, visualizing. Ethereal realms abound. Effortless and…
The worst part is that I knew. Too much time had passed. I pushed the thought from my head. No time. No time for that. I was so close. So fucking close. Yet I didn’t go. Too busy visiting, too busy with the minutia. I couldn’t make time. She was disappointed. I explained. She was…