The Bull River was choppy and the tide was coming in!
One of my favourite activities,
Tybee Island
Archive for March, 2015
Thoughts
Posted in Life on March 31, 2015| Leave a Comment »
And
Posted in Life, Music on March 30, 2015| Leave a Comment »
It’s like the Universe knew!
Fresh from Santa Fe: Sam of Stringband Spectacular
(and, just like that, everyone cancelled their Friday plans to accommodate him).
Savannah Music Festival
Ease
Posted in Life on March 29, 2015| Leave a Comment »
All who believed were together and shared all things in common.
(Acts 2:44)
Mass burial site
Colonial Park Cemetery
AKA “Paranormal Central”
My
Posted in Life on March 28, 2015| Leave a Comment »
Mind
Posted in Life on March 27, 2015| 1 Comment »
What should have been a 5 minute walk ended up being a 45 minute stroll.
I almost forgot about almost everything in Toronto, and my mind was almost clear for almost all of those 45 minutes.
Casimir Pulaski monument, Monterey Square.
Casimir lost his life defending the United States in the Siege of Savannah: one of the bloodiest battles of the American Revolutionary war.
Frühling
Posted in Life on March 21, 2015| Leave a Comment »
Fanny,
Yesterday I pumped new air into your tires
so that you can pump new air into my blood.
Industriepalast
Warschauer Straße
Berlin
3.1415
Posted in Life on March 14, 2015| 1 Comment »
310
Posted in Life, Music on March 10, 2015| Leave a Comment »
When in Los Angeles
I looked like this
and spent all my days
in the sun by the water.
To be continued!
Venice
Life Is Short
Posted in Life on March 9, 2015| Leave a Comment »
First Mate
Posted in Life on March 5, 2015| Leave a Comment »
My gaze is nailed into the fog of a dark and vast landscape of crooked trees and pools and puddles and dried up ponds. Far beyond I’m stretching the veins that carry the blood into town for the ghosts and the midwives and the cobblers and the priests to trade and hypothesize, and let them talk. A prenatal sentence of thirty years left me with nothing more than all I need. And now that I’m free and running wild and wicked I’m staring with disbelief at the blunt and bloody hayfork I’m holding. And the quirky shapes and colors of mud, emerald, brick and bone, their beauty unfolding. The water keeps running, it always runs down, it never runs out. And on its track, springs and wires and dust of memory slide and stick. And while you fuss and complain it slips past your toes and your fingers. I smile with my feet as I walk on the branches and twigs and the roots of time and watch the stuff that you threw away with absent hands and I give it names like new born babies. And I pick them up and let them go and try to get lost and forget who I am every second of the day.
–Bruno Patyn
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