2012
Harley
H*A*R*L*E*Y
He wasn't black, he was a tri-
Color, that is, black, red, silver, and gold;
He might not be fast, but he's getting old -
But, still can track bunnies and squirrels and cats
And if you're not watching, he'll eat dead rats.
But he's quite smart if truth could be told.
That's Harley the mighty, Harley the Bold.
Now, not many remember the storm of aught six,
Nor the wagon trains filled with bank stocks and gold bricks...
And fewer remember how the twister that year
Flung babies and trees and gold bricks far and near.
But Harley, he knew -
He kept his nose to the ground -
sniffing here, sniffing there, circling round and around;
Until he found a brick of gold.
That's Mr. Harley to you, Mr. Harley, the bold.
He decided to retire and enjoy his new wealth,
Teaching puppies and kittens the art of sniffing and stealth.
The bone mansion he built was a marvelous feat;
Filled with cheeses and sweet meats and peanut butter treats.
And there were bitches galore, great gals every one -
How they raced round the yard, oh they all had great fun!
But eventually as happens, the funds they ran out
And the great Harley was alone....
But, he didn't pout. No,
He kept his nose to the ground and tail high in the wind,
for he knew that is how all new great adventures begin.
H*A*R*L*E*Y
That's Harley the magnificent, Harley the wise.
H*A*R*L*E*Y
That's Harley the Shepherd and he is my good boy.
21-OCT-2006
strange Tree
Is it possible to even be creative when you're depressed? I have struggled alot this year, especially these last months since mom died. I look at the train wreck of my own life and wonder if I'll ever have the guts to do something about it. I think I am this tree - strange, alone, dying, yet a vision strong and not down yet...
29-JAN-2007
Sunflower by Box
I had a great crop of Sunflowers this year, and am only now getting to some of the images I took.
These fascinate me - maybe because of Vincent Van Gogh and his paintings. The brilliant yellows, golds, oranges, burnt siennas sufficed with so much light that he couldn't layer the paint thickly enough. Maybe it's the mystery of the never ending spiral of seeds in the center.
Even past their prime, the wilting Sunflower conveys a sad strength that more fragile flowers disguise. Instead, this guy wears his flaws on his face as scars: it's triumph over predators - over scorching sun and even over the more romantic flowers smelling of love that gardeners often prefer...
No, the sunflower is steadfast triumph.
28-MAY-2007
Tom
Tom, after a long morning celebrating his nephew Sylys graduating from high school 2007.
We did a good thing in going. We're not usually that responsible. But Tom, with his usual sensitive intuition sensed we should go, and I agreed. I think Sean and Sylys both appreciated us being there - just for the love it showed in the small effort. I think despite how important certain people are in my life, I am very guilty of being lazy and assuming that my loving them is enough. Like they'll know through e.s.p. or from actions frozen from childhood. I need to step forward in effort more, especially since Mom isn't here to act as a moral compass reminding me of too much time hidden as a hermit - too much selfishness.
