About Me

My photo
i moved where my heart had drifted off to long before. i live on a hill of hundred acres, where my dreams have merged with the view. it is quiet from machine noises yet loud with sounds of horses, dogs, cats chickens and ducks. nature is the true artist in resident and i am just her apprentice who often gets lost in her gaze. once and a while i travel back to cities and foreign places to put into photographs what i have learned, yet always, part of my heart is left on the hill..

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

driving on a dirt road to hear me crack

underneath a charcoal sky i grip the steering wheel with my bare hands, sometimes i have gloves on but not tonight. the flickering lights, i leave those behind and feel the tires hit the dirt road, yes i go down the the narrow dirt road with it's dangerous curves i like it. mozart, toby or porteus head blaring while i take those curves flanked by giant trees like it is my only vice, i am heading towards you. you will have your hands on my neck, then my lower back and waist, your going to heal remember,  you say. driving i stop at the cafe order my coffee it is quiet at this time, the cafe unrecognizable at this time, i like it this way. back in my car now i have stopped the music,  listening to npr now, they teach me things, they open my eyes. I park my car now in front of me it feels like a paris window and door covered with ivy i think to myself should i open another store, no. I go in now there you are your hands holding a pen soon they will be holding me and i will not like it as much as you like, your the one that gets paid not me, you pull me near then crack. i hate the crack. i hate all of it well maybe not the heated blanket you lay on top of me and the relaxing sounds coming out of the speakers.

i am back in the car now, i am freezing, i mean my teeth are chattering how in ten minutes did i leave new england  for  yukon. i take a sip, adjust the radio, drive thinking how i wish all of it was longer. my tires hit the dirt road again my mind hits the clouds and i go for it as if it is my last ride i drive fast on this dirt road, the one they warned me about, i am always getting warned about something.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

crash

you words crashed into me as i was skipping like a school girl
the sun was out did you not see it. i halted, stopped froze. you wanted words, reactions right there and then but all i could think about is the door handle and if i would have the courage to open.
how i wished for silence,  for superman to turn back this moment in time but i swallowed what else was i to do.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

really?

hell in a handbag!

a barber

as we sat there pencils in hand
i turned to him and said do you want to be a fireman
no he replied
maybe a fisherman i said
no
what about a barber
to hairy he said

it was good to laugh like that.