circle right go left

my daughter’s nails, her mother’s thoughts…(usually after reading the morning paper)

since 9/11

“A husband and father, as he did every morning, kissing his wife and daughter before driving to Rescue 1’s firehouse on West 53rd Street in Manhattan. And his unusual decision to stop as he walked to his van on Sept. 11, 2001, and return to kiss them one more time.”

“I’m saying to myself, he survived. He was a Marine, he was a Boy Scout (and) he was a rescue guy,” Tillie Geidel said. “If anybody could survive, he could survive.”
– Leonard Sparks for the Times Herald-Record, September 11, 2016
Gary Geidelportrait of Gary Geidel, Rescue 1 – painted this for his mom in 2001

it’s never perfect

out of body
experienced
feet in the clouds
head below the rest
not moving forward
but losing no ground
heart and soul
right now
a keyboard duet
for an invisible piano
will be studious again
at rock bottom
where the colored paper plays
the pencils swirl
and the brushes sweep into dance
the melody heard
by intruments
not requiring perfect circumstances
they know life
is never perfect
even at its most musical
guitar man

The Colors of Humanity

Imagine our earth a giant color wheel
each of us a gorgeous dot of pigment
equal reds, equal greens, all colors equal

but we humans don’t think in terms of equal
quite as much as we should
we are alike
but ‘enjoy’ thinking otherwise
we tend to shove one another around
crash head to head
  we cancel each other out
and become void
we choose to destroy our brilliance


yet
if we agreed

equal to be equal
equal reds, equal greens
if we learned to stand
side by side
what beauty there would be

on the color wheel they call this complimenting
on the earth we’d call it peace
parrotI can’t think of a more beautiful, earthly color coexistent than a parrot
parrot in Prisma pencil done around 2002

opposing colors on the color wheel are called complimentary because when placed side by side they brighten, when these same colors are mixed in equal measure, they create a neutral or gray

the other side of the rainbow

“we’ll find a way of forgiving”
is this true
wouldn’t that be beautiful
not to end
in hatred
but to persevere
in love
“somewhere over the rainbow”
because we can’t stay on this side anymore
we learn to cherish

internal not eternal beauty
of children
of people
of humanity
that rainbow keeps looking better
on the other side
green lush, pure blue

conflicts end with handshakes
not burning holes
what color there would be
what a brilliant world we could live in
we’re but one side away
if only

SImon Says Peace

Simon Says Peace

Created last year for a dear blogger friend–Simon Tocclo, a man of action trying to affect genuine change in Liberia. Among his many social platforms, Simon can also be found through his blog, Liberian Me

“We’ll find a way of forgiving,” borrowed from, West Side Story
“Somewhere over the rainbow,” borrowed from, The Wizard of Oz

life is a line

we sometimes spend our lives concerned over –
being first on line
choosing the right path
towing the line
being offline
being online
going down the wrong road
border lines
bylines
lineups
crossing the line
traffic lines
skylines
tree lines
the waterline
the shoreline
outlines
tan lines
following dotted lines
our waistlines
defense lines
taking the shortest line
getting wires crossed or knotted up
sniffing lines
hem lines
panty lines
firing lines
signing on the line
communication lines
wrinkle lines
writing lines
lines of demarcation
timelines
fault lines
waiting in line
making headlines, avoiding them
picket lines
yellow lines
assembly lines
coloring in the lines
cutting on the lines
perfect lines
making beelines
memorizing lines
first lines
last lines
stepping out of line
lining up
drawing lines in the sand
pickup lines
party lines
lines of crap
a line of bullshit
lifelines…
the only line missing
is the only line that matters
it is the line cut into our flesh upon conception
the thin, supple line that separates our life from our death

there is a line.
walk it well
cycleLife Cycle, acrylic on paper painted thirty years prior

Job Box

Long ago
letters were thoughtless
compartmentalized
in walls of wood
lined in metal
alone as they were
dull

strung together
blossomed
broad thoughts
narrow concepts
soft guilt
hard passion

letters
singular
sideways upside down
gathering residue
together
prescient

wipe clean
return home
job box
alone again
’til evenings events
rally
once more
job boxMay you dream of beautiful transient letters making gorgeous journeys…

Above: Long ago, individual metal letters for traditional typesetting were kept organized in job boxes. The boxes were actually drawers that slid into a larger metal cabinet. Today, these boxes are considered antiques. I was given a plain wooden job box in exchange for a painting I did for someone. I painted the box and added my kiddies plastic toys, when they no longer had need of them. 🙂