28 days of phrase.

the old man is snoring. outside, his tears are falling from the sky and dampening our dirt - sand, whatever. i got sick this week and that slowed me down. i missed a few days at this, and then i started playing catchup with everything else. saturday is a good day for pancakes with the family and stillness. silence, but for the pooling of rain on grounds that cannot hold it. my world is at peace.

despite high competition from the first season of Friday Night Lights, i buttoned up the a chapter called 'the origin of appetite' in Lewis Hyde's "Trickster." We followed the "Trickster" through ancient mythology. Our mediator between the god's and man, He consistently used craftiness to steal particles from them (ie, fire) and hand them to us. He knows where the fat is and where the meat is. He ruffles feathers by taking the line of culture and eating the essentials right off, leaving the dangling, vacant hook. He knows his appetite. He hungers, like all vessels for rich food at premium costs, but he curbs it, because he's seen the power of the cavernous belly. He eats delicately to avoid the snare of desire and leaves the rest. He's been the glutton. His intestines grew accordingly to house nine miles worth of portion, they wrapped around him like a noose. so he knows his borders. He's like Jesse James. He knows when to get in, and get out.

it's a subtle awakening. a wake up call to assessment. What owns me, due to my allegiance by consumption? i'd like to pretend i never wrote that and go with my rainy saturday afternoon. after all, we are at peace here in cardiff, ca. but, who then, will be responsible for the levity of their thoughts?

28 days of phrase.

hunger. it is in our essence to want things. we subtly ache for food and possessions. Some of those things are nutritional in nature. The rest are sheer distraction from nutrition. In both, the human soul is hungry. it likes indirectly smoked trip-tip and fast food fries from McDonald's. I say to my soul, "what is it that you want,?" and it points to everything. Even now, i want a nap, i want to escape into a television set, and yet, i also want to restock the mental fluids with a good book - i wanna be inspired. I wanna get in shape, but i also want to eat rich foods and enjoy pleasantries. Can i safely say that to be human is to ride by the rudder of appetite, which is to be confused? How do you know what urges to follow? Whose song is that which we are humming? Is that the song of the Siren, or the Psalms?

Wisdom wakes to a world in mid conversation. It weighs the words. She analyzes intentions, and then makes a move. Not just any random saunter down any long and winding road. But she looks for beauty and bets her life on it. She knows that immediacy does not insinuate accuracy. It is not the predecessor to truth. So she follows that voice that may lead through the impoverished valley of great despair because she see's some greater benefit on the map to goodness.

We want so much stuff. What are the materials that will help us build a road to the garden of eden, past the thick thorn bushes and through the haunted forests? Though it may cost us a season or two of poverty, we set our foundations in concrete, while the world plants posts in sand. The storms come and both are destroyed. everyone is sucked dry of their wealth by the vacuum of reality. And then, as the haze lifts, finely placed bricks and mortar are ready to build on. Suddenly, the body and soul, want that… it couldn't be more clear. They want what they can feast upon, and not what spoils.

28 days of phrase.

cobwebs. on everything. it's been too longs since i dusted off my tools. the tiny house has been weathering, undisturbed by me. the girls have been it's keeper. i'm back on the job site again, pulling spiders off of my drills and hammer. my left ear is overused, due to the angry roar a chipper scraping thin set off of concrete. most adhesives are not easily removed. that is the nature of remodel. everything is made to last, but nothing actually lasts. repair is a necessary occurrence in our human rhythm. it's a real challenge to make something that can outlast water leaks, earthquakes and fashion. so we're always revisiting what we set in stone, trying to remake it, rearrange it, so it's better. the problem is called human error. even the most imperfect of systems has it's weakness when it comes to who's staffing it. the greatest minds on planet earth are all out back trying to keep the termites off of the window sills.

28 days of phrase.

Nine years ago today, i married a girl from Green Bay, Wisconsin. We were 21 and had the slightest notion of what Love was or is. We knew enough, just enough, to pack our bags and throw our surnames into one. While the Christmas season was overtaking Ohio with it's frosted trees and frozen streets, we waved good -bye and made our way west to the setting sun. It took us 2 years to feel connected to a foreign state with strange streets and restaurants. 2 years to feel like we could call a friend for a surf or a chai. It took 4 years till you could feel the solidity of the earths soil around our searching roots. All the while, we thought we knew each other…
It took us 6 &1/2 years to bring another life into this planet. Beauty and pressure came holding hands, giving us sunsets and kicking dirt. In marriage counseling, it was suggested that it takes 7 years to know someone. i think that's absurd. i know couples in the Wilderness, married for 40 years that don't know each other. You know someone when you're tested past the point of yourself, out in that dangerous enemy fire zone where sleep deprivation and ambition collide together while 2 are learning to care for 3. For us, it was 2 learning to care for 2 more. That broke us. Recently, just recently, we've started to really know each other. Grace met us when we were young and naive, it put the pieces together - it said, "I do." it moved us out to California when all reason and logic suggested otherwise. Grace is still meeting us. It met us this morning at 5:40am when the little chirps of new life start calling from their cribs. it's writing our story, while we're committed to it's plot. I married a girl with long honey curls hanging on tanned skin and a pocket organizer. She married a dude, with intentionally unkept hygiene and un-calculated moves. We're thrown into a scene where beauty is always the outcome, but pruning and loss are the nutrients to bring the rose to bloom. i am amazed at where we've been, and i'm amazed at where we are going. i'm amazed by the girl at my side. i'm amazed by the roar of the ocean and by the call of duty. by the little Anderson with blonde hair with the one with brown. i'm amazed by what Grace allows us to go through.

"it is only in the trying circumstances that human love is given its chance to have meaning, for it is only in these circumstances that it can be bourne out in deeds through time - even, to quote Shakespeare, "to the edge of doom" and thus prove itself true by fulfilling it's true term." - Wendell Berry

28 days of phrase.

For a long time, i've wondered why i see so little change in myself and the community around me.  Like the eroding soil in my back yard, what is often evident in our biosphere is the decaying of life, exposing of broken roots etc. --rather than vibrant new seedlings developing.  this is our great human dilemma. the awkward 2 inch film distorting the way we perceive things, creating that disturbing barrier between what is and what we perceive to be. ultimately, straining our ability to see, grasp, act and fulfill our potential.  In this distortion, we consistently make lateral moves with God and sit comfortably in ambivalence.

when it finally occurs to us that progression is demanded, we realize we're in the middle of an all out fight. the moment we relent, we're stuck again. in the pursuit of God the human heart wants an easy road.  we want things handed to us, like winning Lottery tickets.  we want salvation, sans the sweat strain of cultivating it.  But, when we awaken the to the atmosphere of tension, we realize there is no pain free way of living fully. to follow God, is to seek. there is no other road.

thankfully, God is miraculously reviving the misguided human heart, will, soul -- intentions, building a garden robust. He just says to the cripple, "Wake Up, take your mat and go" and we start intentionally cultivating our landscapes like caretakers and sometimes, even, we are slopping in the dirt like renegade gardeners.  So, Jesus breathes into the human soul, "wake up."  realize your potency,  wake up.  get up.  want what is good and right.  create.

behind the swollen dehydrated surface, undetectable spouts of beauty are rising. it's not a matter of what we see. it's a matter of what is. We can train our souls to trust in what is and appreciate what we see, rather than gauging all spiritual realities on what is perceptible. Everything is becoming. All things hang in the balance of realizing their fullness. The starved, outside our windows, can and should be nourished. who will do the watering? what happens when we wake up?

Encinitas, CA

28 days of phrase

San bernardino,

There's a hole in my heart but I'm not gonna stop pouring liquid in it.  I'm not going to pretend it doesn't exist.   It's there.   Beating. I can't muffle the pangs.  I'm not always going to fill it with appropriate things, either.  Yet, Everyday I spend watching the sunrise over pages stained with prayers and caffeine, that whole seems to find sustenance.  Healing nutrients, of which cannot be found in the physical landscape of humankind.  When I pray, a river of scripture threads my soul, depositing fabric to heal this heart.

28 days of phrase

Lake Arrowhead, Ca

I went to the mountains, when all reason said "stay home."  Guilt followed me 6000 feet in the air.  I travel all the time, she's always home.  Gulit and weight... But I had to go.   I had to go where the air is thin.   Where I could see clearly for miles.  So I leaned in, like one leans into any turn where the motion just takes you.   I said a prayer for the little ones and envisioned them being held by angels.   I took the winding road, on the highway called the rim of the world, up the back spine of San Bernardino.   So, I'm here, in the quiet purr of nature to read Lewis Hyde and study the psalms, and to pray my frickin brains out for Jesus to put his hands in wounds.  I want You like a cup of coffee and I want a refill for afternoon tea and for happy hour.   I want you to be with my friends who have lost so much and I want your hands to provide for the yearnings of pure hearted pilgrims that scrape the earth.

28 days of phrase.

encinitas, ca

the santa anna's are in- pushing hot air from the desert across our faces and sending it out to sea. in retort, waves are marching orderly in causing the coast to crowd with spectators and partakers. everyone called in "sick." no one is sick.

even the grass is waking up and bowing prostrate. green is starting to grow in our backyards, where there has been none, not since we've lived here. color in place of weeds and sand. Every november is different in the dessert. You throw buckets of water around and biospheres begin. november knows himself, yet not in the since that he knows the fullness of his essence. he's looking around to become something. he fancies spring.

28 Days of Phrase.

a song
a sound
pound & thud
greasy face
face down in the mud
when the bird begins to sing
blue notes
beats
heart strings

November. 28 days left of phrase.

there are 28 days left of this fine month. i plan to have a post for each day. i play to wrestle the dragon inside my brain. maybe i'll tie him up. maybe i'll loose a limb. maybe you'll see me ridin' em.

november is a gift. it's the first rest in my measure. i don't usually have time to write at home with the little ladies crawling all over everything. but, i can't think of a better way to reach for december.

november, may you be a long dramatic pause. a deep cosmic breath. i hope you slur your sentences and screw around with grammar. i hope you learn. i hope you light a fire in my backyard, where i can stoke a pipe and hear from angels.

november, i hope you bring babies safely into these pastures.

And God, i'm reaching for you. in all things.

success?

today, i'm reminded that i'm not responsible for the success of outcomes. i'm just here to dream of a better country and to work for that dream as if it can come to be for my family, community, country, and the world. we are the privileged - scheming under the hot star signing hymns and sonnets. i am blessed to be in the teeth of the incinerator. the sun is out, and i'm smiling.

10/14. Salt Lake City, UT

why was i made
to scrape this terrain?
how then shall we live
when it's giving us the bends?
how can we survive
it's a fight to stay alive?
where will go
when home is status quo?

if we were made for more
then why do we need all these cars?
and name tags and jobs and identities
if industry is an adequate god
why are our farmers robbed?
why are our women painted on every t.v. screen
for pleasant scenery

if we're the chosen ones
why is beauty being defined by demons?
sitting in marketing meetings
and why are we eating
all they're feeding ?

you are.

You are good.
and You cannot be otherwise so
in Your hands
we uncomfortably wrestle
with all You are
opposed to what we see
in the psalmist cave
we're on our knees

What is this?
Can you hear the noise from our lips?
It's the only thing left to say
My world is yours to take
take my family, take my job
take the cash deep in my pockets (soul)
take this stone, replace a heart
give me the Spirit to grasp the goodness You are

You are there.
& You cannot be never here
in the womb
in the tomb
in the burning and beautiful
we call out
and often hear nothing
then wake to see
You were the sound
of our calling

10/27/2010

good night, argentina

Buenos Aires, Argentina
good night argentina.

We left summer in Guatemala and found spring flirting with Brazil & Argentina. Buenos Aires stole my heart. Spain and Eastern Europe holding hands, trading architecture and pouring Malbec. I sat at a cafe on a street corner and watched students intersect with a cup - cafe con leche. Argentina stole my heart.

Brazil.

Brazil.

right now, i'm on a 7 hour flight to Brazil. instead of sleeping last night, i gave up my hour of z for a sip of the rooster Gallo and the spin cycle. it was worth it. thank you Guatemala City for giving me clean underpants.

Sao Paulo = Lost in Translation
We're now off the grid. Spanish is a second language here. English is further behind third. Portuguese sounds french with a few familiar spanish words. Everyone keeps poking me for attention, because i travel with important people, and they want a shot of a celebrity by one degree of separation. I deny all the requests with a loaded smile. To remedy a grueling work day, we got lost in the streets of Sao Paulo with the courage of a local beverage called Caprinia, and a full belly from a Churrascaria. I ate a chicken heart. it tasted like a mushroom. We were told to avoid Taxi's because they aren't metered and frequent kidnapping's occur. Through a maze of dark streets, we found some good Sao Paulo culture. Joakini's Bakina burger. One of the better burgers in the world with a side of herb mayo and Brahama Black.

3 Hours later we were on a bus driving across Brazil, crossing randomly placed plantain orchards and ancient ruins. Ribeirao Preto and Goiania were a blur. Just a big mess of communication scrabble and culture shock.

Guatemala City, Guatemala

Guatemala City, Guatemala

our journey lead us from Mexico City, through Panama City, through Managua to Guatemala. the flights were long and the air was ripe. i complained a bit, and then wiped the sweat and grease off my beard realizing that i was contributing to the atmosphere. i just finished 'Home Economics' with an amazing encore. Some brilliant musings about the effect of local community on our local and global economics. i've been processing those thoughts and hope to post them when they're clear. there's no use to talk about tiredness. that seems redundant - and redundancy = boredom. I will say that instead of coffee, i found a modelo especial to encourage the contemplation of community and it's value on our well being. son las 8 a la manana. that was a record for me! never had a beer that early before. all these flights will do that to ya.

we had some down time today while staying in some apartments nestled in the jungle hills around guatemala city. it was odd to be still after moving so much. i took my computer out to the balcony and looked at my girls. they looked back at me. they are growing so beautifully. behind them, the jungle and a Guatemalan man hard a work hacking weeds with a machete.

there's an interesting translation for Romans 12 VS 2-4 in the message. the verbiage goes something like "Don't become so well-accustomed to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to it's level of immaturity." Being here has made me realize how American i am, in the positive and the negative sense. A lot of my guttural responses are pretty nasty. I don't think any culture has arrived anywhere worth bragging about, but the stuff i'm seeing ain't purty.

I love intentionality. Taking faith into culture in contrast to a whimsical hope that these two concepts will find intersection. The latter feels much more accidental and random like throwing darts. i find that when my tongue is active in prayer, i follow God in situations where i otherwise would just choose one of my instinctual emotions. in the aforementioned, i actually start doing things that have a lasting impact for the benefit of others and subsequently see sun rays of hope in the otherwise darkness.

i'm struggling to root my life on these words, cause i'm used to living comfortably in the popular tide of American Culture which has no use for them… but feel the tug boat of greater oceans pulling me into unchartered unorthodox waters of the Kingdom of God. in these places, there is no rote.

The parts of Latin America that have stayed small and focused really get into the soul. The cities can feel like a copy of a copy of westernization, with malls, billboards and consumerism. After flying over a shack town like parts of Manaqua you realize the effect of all our consumption options and one starts to wonder where the discipline of simplicity has gone, and question the effects of it's absence.

Mexico City, Mexico

passport stamps, airplanes, sleep deprivation and latin america through a window seat.
- Mexico City, Mexico

the bags under my eyes are dangling like earlobes. sleeplessness is catching up. a dude traveling with us fell asleep standing up. Mexico City surprised me with it's manicured landscape and sophistication. why should it not be so? some of the city parks are a kin to chicago. As the sky scrapers fill the skyline of Manhattan, houses paint the hills of mexico city. They are everywhere, covering every stretch of available landscape.

the work day was challenging today. i was my own translator - a job that i'm unqualified for. it was hard to keep a clear head. Cappuccino's and corn tortitias topped with sautéed carne and fried cotija cheese help. the local culture offers adrenaline. caffeine gives speed. we are always on a time crunch. everything is a rush - even communication. We Americans are electric currents in a country that responds to a different charge. it's a real challenge to stay respectful. that's my regret today, as i'm struggling to communicate in my own language on a few winks of sleep, not mention theirs. I came to a great realization. None of my tone and non-verbals are going to speed up the reality that i cannot fluently speak spanish and negotiate transactions with smoothly. crap attitude gains reverse traction. you almost have to give in to the form and let your body sink into the cushion around you. you have smile and be grateful for the privilege to do business with God's greatest creation on a foreign land. i'm hopeful that negations can take place in niceties. especially after amazing tacos and beer.

san jose, costa rica & bogota, colombia

passport stamps, airplanes, sleep deprivation and latin america through a window seat.

San Jose, Costa Rica & Bogota, Colombia

Leaving LA at 10:40pm, 48 hours ago seems like last year. I left on a red eye flight and my eyes have been red since. We're in a new country everyday and another flight every morning. My body is tricked into hidden energy reserves with the excitement of new countries and local fare (and cerveza).

Costa Rica has it's tourist appeal, it's jungle vibe with rolling hills covered in thick tree foliage with Monkey's. San Jose has it's urban grit. Through the glassless windows of the top story of the parking garage, you can see both. The airport, immigration, van rides, a music venue and a dinner at a nearby restaurant (arroz con pollo), sum up the culture we have time for.

a plane ride and a few hours later:
Right now i'm listening to Colombia cram cars down a street through an open patio door in Bogota. other than sitting on airplanes, this the only real silence i'll get today. street noise - buzzing cars and cafe overflow, that's not real quiet, but it's culture.

The same noise lulled me to sleep at 1:45 am, and awakened me to group Karaoke when the clubs let out at 3pm. When the alarm buzzed at 5:45am, to catch another flight, Bogota was finally silent. We were told not to go outside, in groups or alone. I think that's all us American's need, is more fear factor. We walked to dinner with an entourage to a casual eatery with Tres Carnes Platos: Flank Steak, Chicken and Pork with a side of half cooked french fries, rice and a fried banana. Everything was insanely flavor-filled. Especially this beer with four Aces on it called "Poker." Despite the advise of natives, we kept walking, because we didn't have time to wait hours for the vans to arrive. The redefinition of time in Latin America, is shocking for the American soul: 5 minutes mostly oddly insures 1 to 2 hours.

A lot of what we hear and understand from our media sources seems fairly accurate in Colombia. It's not a safe place to stroll around unaccompanied by locals - or body guards. And when we did, this became obvious. I guess in the same way, a lot of what the world understands about the aborigines that run America seems fabricated through hollywood and the O.C., yet, though it's painful to admit, it is loosely true. Colombia seems no different. Bogota is a city smashed into a steep hill, with streets laced with brothels and bars. it's not clean or up to date. On the hill above the city sits a cross that glows at nighttime. Adjacent to it are mansions, mostly likely empires built upon drug cropping. the distribution of wealth is marginalized between those on the hill and the working class, struggling for sanity and daily bread below. The dark framed habitants with rich brunette hair are good and kind, and all speak more english than i do spanish.

i'm struck by how exposed my soul is right now. all it's protective layers have been shed. human kind, in every nation is desperate for essentials. no one is clear on what those essentials are.

passport stamps, airplanes, sleep deprivation and latin america through a window seat.

9/10 San Jose, Costa Rica
9/11 Bogota, Colombia
9/12 Mexico City, Mexico
9/14 Guatemala City, Guatemala
9/16 Sao Paulo, Brazil
9/17 Ribeirao, Brazil
9/18 Goiania, Brazil
9/19 Buenos Aires, Argentina

Every person is an artist

"every man is called to give love to the work of his hands. Every man is called to be an artist."
- Eric Gill

i need you

i need you
i need you
i'm a soil with no retention
a retirement with no pension
i need you

i need you
i need you
help me thirst for what's real
never quench the quest
for greener fields
i need you

like a diamond in the sky

July 5, green bay, wisconsin

Wisconsin has desolate farm roads that bend and curve like a river.   I went running down one under sinister skys.  The clouds winked at me just  moments before emptying their black bellies.  I was 4 miles away from shelter, so I rolled my phone into my shirt and ducked for cover under the arm of a tree.   A gentlemen flung open his garage door and gestured me in, so I entered shirtless and sweaty.  I said, "thanks for taking in a stranger, I won't be long, just need to make a phone call." after offering me beers and warm food-- I thanked him again, to which he said," believe me, I've been there.  Son, I'm 77 years old,
I've been lots of places."

wake up, sleeper

wake up, sleeper

everyone is waiting
in the white walls
next to your hospital bed
you living or dead?

outside we are moving
shuffling about
but none of our collective motions seem to count
pleasure sought in the immediate
has rendered vanity, vanity darker doubts

the day you get up
people will make brilliant {things}
like the sun rise, it will happen
we are waiting

wake up, sleeper
wake up
wake up
wake up, sleeper

we're tied to that I.V. like chains
the moment we pull the chord
put our feet on the cold floor
run like hell out the back door
we are wounded no longer
wounded no longer
wounded, no longer lame

montreal.

i'm sailing.
I'm drifting.
I'm driving and colliding, all into the inviting arms of your burning charm. it hurts like hell and churns vibrant eden like heaven.

i'm melting. i'm freezing. i'm half in-tune and half lost in juxtaposed timing.

i know you. who are you? i think i see you and then only see myself, cos that's what i'm looking at.

i'm wandering. i'm prodding the laziness into omission. i need a mission. i wanna build an entirely different kind of world, though it's all a dirty blur. all my convictions are certainly unsure.

into the winding cannon i roll.

broken
broken
broken

here we go

recovery of the soul

"One must not underestimate the powers of recovery of the soul under grace."



"The human soul is vast spiritual (nonphysical) landscape, with resources and relationships that exceed human comprehension; and it also exists within an infinite environment of which, at our best, we have little knowledge."


- D. Willard.

right now

"there was never any more inception than there is now."

- w. whitman - song of myself, in leaves of grass

when to say when

"When humans act like animals, the become the most dangerous of animals to themselves and other humans, and this is because of another critical difference between humans and animals: Whereas animals are usually restrained by the limits of physical appetites, humans have mental appetites that can be far more gross and capacious than physical ones. Only humans squander and hoard, murder and pillage because of notions.

Ignorance of when to stop is a modern epidemic; it is the basis of "industrial growth" and "economic progress."

-Wendell Berry in Getting Along With Nature - from his compiled essays called "Home Economics"

no little people

"On any fair interpretation of history, the way of Christ in God's Kingdom has, at least, not been tried as a general way of managing human affairs, The personnel for such an undertaking has been lacking. Here again we must give Chesterton his due. Christianity has not only been "found difficult and left untried," it has rarely been closely enough approached by people even to be found difficult.

There was a "fullness of time" at which Christ could come in the flesh, and there is likewise a fullness of time for his people to stand forth with the concrete style of existence for which the world has hungered in its thoughtful moments and praised through its poets and prophets. As a response to this world's problems, the gospel of the Kingdom will never make sense except as it is incarnated--we say "fleshed out"--in ordinary human beings in all ordinary conditions of human life. But it will make sense when janitors and storekeepers, carpenters and secretaries, businessmen and university professors, bankers and government officials brim with the degree of holiness and power formerly thought appropriate only to apostles and martyrs."
- d. willard

the redemption of material goods

"the beggar, who suns himself by the side of the highway, possess that security which kings are fighting for"
- adam smith

"the delusions caused by possessions cannot be prevented by having none...
possession and right rule over material wealth is a spiritual service of the highest order."
- d willard

two years old. 4/24/2010 a.r.a

texas.

continental

passed 4/17/2010

little chirp outside my window
a song, as you pass by, a wave of good bye
let that bird fly


Continental - for grandma jo.  4/30/10

the will of every abstract dreamer is guided by the rudder of a clear and practical counterpart.

i know this well.
i wish i remembered more of my youth, 
cos i know you were there, 
changing my diapers and helping me feed seagulls.

your recent recollection of this event was different than my own,
as i assumed we were doing them a favor,
but your insight contained the grandad revision
- involving peanut butter.

you were appalled by the notion.
i could see the the long narrow thought traveling through your eyeballs;
as you wondered "why?" and "how?" you conceded in that pilgrimage
(not to mention all the others...).

that's what i remember about you,

in addition to all the sand castles, the seashells, the tennis and the blue cow, with a vanilla bell.

you,
a constant in the chaos, grounding matter with your sense of gravity - pulling order,

while granddad is outback at Cascade pruning daisy's 

and your kids are buzzing  around a vat of hairy buffalo.

in your later years, wide-eyed and smiling,

you pulled your carriage through the gray valley of death

sustaining life,
eliciting growth, though 
your sweat.  your efforts bought time, they apexed in distain and loss.

mingled in with the gulf air around Corpus Christi
 is a substance to grab hold of, deep and profound.


you and a fierce commitment to your family
consistently extending your aging, yet athletic arm
to granddad and your son.

they say the soul is distinct to the body and imagination that frames it
- to the the heart that thumps red blood.


they say that the relationship is cemented and cannot be severed.

in the kingdom of God, the raw components of your soul
the essential make-up

are given new skin to swim in.

And with it,
with you,
in the warm gulf waters on mustang island

are grandad and j.b. -
toes deep in the hot brown sand
same soul, in youth.

grandma, that's where i see you,

how i see you,
as you always were and are

athletic and postured.

holding down the fort.

agile.

continental.
 

"if the places in our souls that are indwelt by God and his service are occupied by food, sex and society, we die or languish for lack of God and right relation to his creatures."
d willard

a pilgrimage through walt's "Leaves of Grass" begins

easter, 2010

"we have watched the seasons dispensing themselves
and passing on,
And have said, why should not a man or woman
do as much as the seasons
and effuse as much"
- w. whitman, poem "on the journey through the states"

action jackson

"life does not derive it's power of growth and development from withdrawal, but from action - from engagement."
- d willard

red eyes

April 1st.

Red eyes from a few drinks
From winks, and the subsequent tears
From sleeplessness
From seeing the beauty in everything
From hard work in our hot world
From dyes and cholorene and summertime
From aging
The wound that comes from the rising sun
From flying
from muscle relaxers
and layin' on my back for 4 days straight

royal oak, mi

"it is necessary that we should steadily resolve to give up anything that comes between ourselves and God."
- w. r. inge

redemption

redemption is a broken down train
still on the tracks
the first
and the last lap
a house being framed
a building collapsed

happy hour

"whatever our bodies do affects our souls."
c.s. lewis

left sd today.
nashville, tn. on the move, again. spent 5 hours in the twi-light at 25,000 feet in the air.