an icy winter eve, as the fog rolls in. durhamtown. hobbit house. feb ’16

“is there a word for love hating your friends?” asks John R., speaking of friends in sunny spots that he hasn’t enjoyed recently. Hatelove? Lovehate? Lhate? Hove? hmmm…

Seeing what you want to. Versus seeing what you need to. Versus looking to see what you can see. Suspect our brains are part of the problem. The picture above does a decent job of setting the scene, for it was an evening where the trees had been covered in crystal coatings, delicate, beautiful.

ensconced, protected, saved. or perhaps damaged. feb ’16

What the image doesn’t share well was the rest of it – not only was it cold and icy, but crunchy and crackly, as Hali and I walked about the frozen side yard. Nor was it the blanketed audio track normally associated with winter and snow; it was the tink and clackly of icy bits falling down onto other icy bits. And the sense of … something unknown, seeable via the foggy distance in the snapshot – what IS beyond that fog? I have no idea.

We can imagine. We can let our minds run wild thinking of what’s not seen, thinking of our wildest fears and worries. Yapping doggies can be persistent and powerful.

at night, additional illumination allows me to see more. Feb ’16

How do we bring additional illumination to our day to day lives? How do we mute the yappy dogs?
Leave the annoyances behind, lock our eyes (and ears) on the straight ahead and the future – and “keep moving forward!“?

It’s a really good plan that only falls to pieces once life applies itself and all the little handling and processing procedures and fees – certainly can cloud up and obfuscate the path. Then it’s a bag of chips, some kinda hot Chipotle Pepper salsa, and a dying FBI agent.

Because that is easy, that is the reptile saying ‘fuck it, can’t make much sense out of all that shit, so … how about you realize the house isn’t on fire, you can be somewhat comfy, and chill, man. chill” – there’s then a diminishing chance of seeing something there, of being both able and willing to find the ideas, the gems.

An entire mountain escaped my observation for a number of months in the 80s in Germany. Then one day I could see it as clear as day. so very very odd, but I do recall why; when you’ve set down your life, even though you’re shuffling along the construct that encompasses your life/world, if you step outside, step away, you just may be able to see more than you’ve seen before.

Wonder if the pain was the reason I opened my eyes. Wonder if it’s a fleeting opportunity – like a skinned knee – raw to all the sensations, until the skin heals, grows back. Do you take note, and attempt to re-skin your raw knee just so you can feel again? Huh.

lights large and small, ice covered lines, caution needed. feb ’16

We made it through the weekend, a mine-field, where looking for what we can see, with love as the filter, had us all on edge, wondering, worrying. Perhaps even vomiting. As shared with me, it certainly allows a crystal focus on the how a genuine and innocent love can be celebrated – candy hearts and a card with a puzzle piece that says ‘love’. Otherwise, alcohol and hopes, with dreams of a better interpretation – a better vantage point – a better view.

You can find what you can’t see, I believe. You can find what you didn’t even know you were looking for, frankly. It takes listening to your heart & soul to find the way, to find what you seek. Staring at what you think you want, or have to have, or are trying to get – that may not be the best way. Certainly one way to get through the day, get through life as we know it. Put I’m thinking the poets’ way has value.

ciao,

{12:52p + 16Feb2016 = Tues afternoon || KEXP plays tunes from a cloudy sunless land}
//Starfish … The Church … out on this day in 1988. ergo, Becky and a small pickup truck, in austin and there abouts, was in Sept of 88, I presume. Then again, Sept of 89 it could have also played. Huh… great rif, on Reptile, also off Starfish. 28 years ago. wow.//