Sunday, April 21, 2013


Just a repetition of Filling In The Blanks posted earlier
Handmade Surprise 
from Susarella
Using Tapestry material--fully lined and with a pocket

Toxic Fumes
 became evident Friday night from the apartment on the first floor, and lasted the entire weekend. The workers put the floor coat goop down once they had sealed the windows and doors, and then they left.  The fumes escaped upward through all the vents around risers and radiators until they dry out 48 hours later.  I had to have the air conditioner and fans running with all my windows open just to be able to breathe.  Had a headache and tearing eyes within minutes each time I returned to my space.

There Aught To Be A law 
about everything spirit defeating in modern life, but those laws would have to depend on the ethics of lawmakers, so maybe there aught not be any laws at all.
Another Gift
  from Deanna, a generous "rag' sister in Jude's sewing circle
 with the What-if Project
Home depot cleaning cloths, because they

have a perfect weave for stitching upon 

Advertising Messages 
This shot of a home goods window,
Sections Separated
 isolating words 

Reading Out Loud
Whenever someone uses my camera to snap a shot of me,
this is what happens.
The writing group I've been with for years gets wonderful volunteers from The New York Writers Coalition as facilitators for our weekly sessions using the Amherst Method originated by Pat Schneider.  Once or twice a year the Coalition pools many groups from all over the boroughs for a public reading.  The variety was astounding. We each presented work that began from a 'prompt' in one of our sessions.  I read my short story, "Dreaming on Skates", wherein a five year old learns she can fly. 
 Looking Up 
it's a necessity

Times Square
 These folks work the crowds
for the Disney Store
  A Job's A Job

My friend, Barbara took me to Town Hall to hear the marvelous trumpeter, Allison Balsom, with The Scottish Ensemble. 
In this new recording, she plays popular concertos originally composed for the violin or oboe by Vivaldi, Tartini, B. Marcello, Albinoni and Cimarosa.

Gold In The Streets
 After the concert we found a lovely white wicker chair in the street, and each posed upon it for photographs.  Passing strangers without being asked, kindly stopped so as not to disturb the frame.
That's a New York Story.

Outdated Computer Programs
 Just a rant about crashing, usually when I'm right in the middle of something, and not worth chewing on in the harsh light of more compelling current events.
The Boston Marathon


"Spirit Matter" 
Cloth  piece evolving for the 'What if project'

 Now I know she will be a body outlined on white sheeting material, with pieces missing so patchwork organs can show through, and that her backing will be the cream colored moire fabric.  She will wear a garment constructed of the shredded doily material tied together in places with red thread.  What I don't yet know is whether or not she will have a head and face, or like those beheaded marble ancient statues , be simply a torso standing for anonymous woman.
No new pictures, but the next post will be devoted to her.

 Met two friends for a free reading with a complimentary lunch
 at New York University's Creative Writing House
Etgar Keret
The author was delightful, funny, humanist, wonderful.
There's lots of stuff for him on the web including videos  like this one from National Public Radio's "This American Life"
 Is Reality Overrated?
West 10th Street trees in bloom
bright gardens everywhere 
Wednesday 4.17
rested, doodled, and cooked,
Thursday 4.18
All morning devoted to the plumber on a hunt for an illusive leak within the walls somewhere in my apartment line that somehow skips each of us and affects only the first floor apartment they're working on.  It was found at noon.
Yoga in the early evening, then food shopping at Trader Joe, 
Friday 4.19
Watertowm MA and many other towns in lock down.  Rained all night.
The second suspect shot, apprehended, and in critical condition.
 Saturday 4.20
The night passed, and the day has come again.
That poor bloodied boy is in custody, and I can not help but grieve for him whoever he may be, whatever he may or may not have done. 
The news leaves many gaps in understanding.
The families of the dead, the boys family grieving their other sons death, and the whole of Boston and all it's people having come through to this morning,
for all of them my heart aches, and it aches for the police, the soldiers, the journalists, all who were in the grips of this week long siege.
It's not over, but the air feels clean this morning. 
Even if that's an illusion, I am grateful for it.
Finished three poems I've been working on.
Visited the church garden,
coming along slowly.
Sunlight is so encouraging.

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