language.  inter~species,  inter~being.    on the road down from here at C,  on and along the way to A,  stones have become familiar.  It's easy,  this time of year because Rain washes them clean and their beingness is so apparent.  I recognize them.   Kind of nod and go along. The other day,  when clearing growing…

Language  heard with ears or Other Wise  8 x 10 inches   $75 The Mark we leave   14 x 7 inches   $75   Taken     the little lizard….   The Birthing   21 x 7 inches   $125   Home    14 x 17 inches   $125    Spoken for.  Taken   ADDENDUM,  Monday,  3-25-2019 i'll leave this here,  one…

this one might need to be here for a while.     i woke at about 3 am.  Raining,  the sound on the metal roof of each raindrop.  I was facing the window and looked out,  where i am positioned to see the tops of the close trees and then into the "sky".  I lay there, …

sometimes when i can't  "place" myself,  when i am finding the Ground too shakey,  to littered with words and confusion,  as in this present state of the world and i say world,  because the Planet herself is solid and steadfast and same,  but the world that is playing out upon Her is a mess….so in…

her hand.  just four fingers curved,  the thumb, holding.    about making our Mark…  i moved the volunteer Storks Bill up.  From A,  transplanted at the rim of the B dye garden bed.  To loosen her from her place at A,  i dug deep with a shovel,  to make entry into the earth.  but then…

all over the Hill the Goats have made paths and these paths converge at different points to make the marks of  Y.  I take the marks of   Y  as marks of  Yes.  If viewed from above,  it would be a Hill of Yes. Equinox 2019  Under a  FULL MOON  

the Asian Pear that the wandering Deer  pruned at the end of last summer.  That we had worried about.     Plumcot.  Apricot Plum cross. both,  this and the Asian Pear we planted late.  They were a little stressed from the Nursery.  It was already hot.    We didn't know.  But here they are.  Their…

  Back.  What JOY!!!!   I have dreamed of making food two nights in a row.  The first night i only remember that it was a really great sandwich.  Tomatoes,  thin sliced onions, cucumbers and the crux was a SAUCE.    The  details are gone…i didn't write it down.  Wish i had last night i was…

yesterday.  Just looking.   Bloodbath.  Body parts.   Loved Ones.   in a Place that i'd thought to be a Safe Place,  a Gentle Place,  and they did too.  I looked at the News on this machine thing,  scrolling down,  then stopping and i turned it all off.  There was mention of the president of my country in…

Everything.  Everything right now revolves around,  hinges upon  sense.  The sense of smell.  The sense of taste.   because there is none. it's day three.  NO sense of smell  NO sense of taste and the great gray blah bland  emptiness of that.  Why eat?    I realize fully how much a sensualist i am.  How like…