23 September 2010

A Good Woman is Hard to Find



Some mornings when you wake up all alone.



There's not much room to go more crazy.



Why should my past keep haunting me all through the years?



Blood spilled out from the hole in your heart.



I'll dance at your funeral if you dance at mine.



The way toward the crop of gold is not far from the snow.



There are some mornings when the
sky looks like a road.




Being good isn't always easy.



You know I don't lie. Much.







10 September 2010

Pleasant Valley Sundays


It's been a busy summer though I feel I've done little more than nothing. Maybe that's the beauty of summer, a hibernation of sorts until winter. A summer spent outside. A summer of creatures. A summer of conflict. Alone and surrounded by others. A summer of food. Clouds. Resolve.

Sights and sounds of a summer wasting.










I don't know why but I spent a large chunk of time listening to old Belle & Sebastian and The Magnetic Fields albums. They're both depressingly summery kind of bands which is to say that they're summery in a breezy, wistful, major chord kind of way but dour and brokenhearted, like being stood up at a pool party.





At times it seemed the heat wouldn't quit. And it came from all directions. When it won't the best you can do is to keep occupied, whatever it takes to keep your mind off temperatures.




Food helps and there was always plenty of it to go around. Friends are good, too. The combination of both is a perfect prescription.








Yo no soy marinero.
¡Soy capitán!
¡Soy capitán!








Then there were clouds. And if there is one thing you can count on in Europe, it's a cloud.




So many things I would have done but clouds got in my way.



Something's lost but something's gained in living every day.



In many ways I wish this particular summer never happened. But that is naive thinking. In truth it was probably inevitable, just as it is true that next year summer will return. Better then, I suppose, to deal with it directly and get it over. Thankfully, we each come equipped with our own resources--like clouds and other things of profound beauty.




And if and when things of profound beauty fall short there is always humor. Life is a Cosmic Joke best experienced without hesitation or guilt.




The end is near and it couldn't have come at a better time. It's cooler now, and calm. It won't happen again.





Спасибо, Людмила, for pictures 5, 8-13. ¡Precioso!