Journal

Withlacoochee River, 1986

Strange, how there’s no money in bending spoons, levitating, walking through walls, eating fire. Stranger still, the mind’s tireless insistence on returning to the same vault of memory: a woven hammock bleached by the sun, beach glass, the texture of a Van Gogh, metallic oysters, cold beer, fried shrimp, French vanilla ice cream. Strangest ofContinue… Read more

April 18, 2021

Stone Lion

The face of the stone lion has turned white due to weather and time, two things I understand very little of, being neither meteorologist nor physicist. I only know that he reminds me of a Celtic warrior about to pick a fight, milky streaks spreading through the dark copper of his mane. A stone lionContinue… Read more

March 13, 2021

High Road

Once you have traveled in the four directions, along the main thoroughfare, and spent a good deal of time on back roads and side roads, putting one foot in front of the other until you reach a measure of satisfaction, it is possible you might find Continue… Read more

January 31, 2021

Beginner’s Mind

Beginner’s Mind Spirit of breath and practice, holy mystery of movement and stillness, grant me the discipline to just sit here, though the old fires still burn in me. Grant me the wisdom to remain plainspoken at the doorstep of the mind’s entanglements. Let me keep a balanced, empty mind. Grant me patience, not onlyContinue… Read more

January 8, 2021