Monday, December 14, 2009

Esben stands

Esben ducks his head in grace
Esben ducks his head in grace
Grace

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Sugar Town


I never had a dog that liked me some
Never had a friend or wanted one
So I just lay back and laugh at the sun
'cause I'm in shoo-shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo
Shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo Sugar Town


If I had a million dollars or ten
I'd give it to ya, world, and then
You'd go away and let me spend
My life in shoo-shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo
Shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo Sugar Town

Friday, December 4, 2009

No shoes



I had no guts
and I complained until I met a man
who had no heart--the most important
part. I had no heart and I complained,
I did not understand, and then I met
a man who had no hands. I had no hands
and I complained until I met a man who
was a wreck--he had no neck. I had no
neck and I complained until I met a
man who had no chin. Some folks lose
and some folks win.

The youngest son




But Esben has his own heart
And he eats it like a peach

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

let me be clear














http://stevenklise.com/photos/lookup/

http://www.gchaymes.com/skymail.html

looks like a road

Stevie G:

Aright we got all the big 18 wheeler trucks on one side. We got all the smaller cars over here on the other. We are on the 87 highway.

This is where I think it's the cleanest. We just got to watch out to see if the dogs have been here. Abracadabra. Scoop that belly, burn that jelly, America. You gotta get off your fat one and do something GOOD. Something good like the solid oak WOOD. Get out there and help others and especially help yourself to be your best so that you are not a cranky old fool.

Now we all gotta pull up the hill.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Thursday, November 26, 2009

El Fuerte

My two favorite things about these ruins: They were the work of three (or four) cultures--the Chanes, the Guaranis, the Incas, and the Spanish.

And, these recesses contained mummies, which were open to view, a few yards away from houses where people lived.

condors



loros (parrots)



The Table Where the Rich People Sit, Byrd Baylor (and Peter Parnall)

If you could see us sitting here at our old, homemade, scratched-up wooden table, you'd know that we aren't rich.
But my father is trying to tell us we are. Doesn't he notice my worn-out shoes? Or that my little brother has patches on the pants he wears to the first grade? And why does he think that old rattle-trap truck is parked outside the door?
"You can't fool me," I say. "We're poor. Would rich people sit at a table like this?"
My mother sort of pats the table and she says, "Well we're rich and we sit here every day."
They look surprised. You can see they never think about the things we need.

Right here, I might as well admit that my parents have some strange ideas about working.

They think the only jobs worth having are jobs outdoors.

They want cliffs or canyons or desert or mountains around them wherever they work. They even want a good view of the sky.

They always work together, and their favorite thing is panning gold—piling us into that beat-up truck and heading for the rocky desert hills or back in some narrow mountain gully where all the roads are just coyote trails.So we start with twenty thousand dollars.

That’s how much my father says it’s worth to him to work outdoors, where he can see sky all day and feel the wind and smell rain an hour before it’s really raining.
He says it’s worth that much to be where (if he feels like singing) he can sing out loud and no one will mind.
I have just written twenty thousand when my mother says, “You’d better make that thirty thousand because it’s worth at least another ten to hear coyotes howling back in the hills.”
So I write thirty thousand.

Then she remembers that they like to see long distances and faraway mountains that change color about ten times a day.
“That’s worth another five thousand dollars to me,” she says.

We all say seven dollars doesn’t seem to be enough. We talk him into making it five thousand.

Now my paper says four million and sixty thousand dollars —and we haven’t even started counting actual cash.

To tell the truth, the cash part doesn’t seem to matter anymore.
I suggest it shouldn’t even be on a list of our kind of riches.

So the meeting is over.

The rest of them have gone outside to see the new sliver of moon. But I’m still sitting here at our nice homemade kitchen table with one cookie left on my mother’s good blue-flowered plate, and I’m writing this book about us.

I kind of pat the table and I’m glad it’s ours.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Samaipata, Bolivia

unmanned, ppl. a.


1. Not furnished with men or with a crew (cf. MAN v. 1). 1544 BETHAM Precepts War II. li. Liij, That he leaue not his campe vndefenced and vnmanned. 1592 KYD Sp. Trag. IV. iv. 211 Set me with himVpon the maine mast of a..ship vnmand. 1670 MILTON Hist. Eng. I. 5 Not put to death, but turn'd out to Sea in a Ship unmann'd. 1726 POPE Iliad XXII. 469 See, if already their deserted towers Are left unmann'd.

2. a. Devoid of a man; empty. 1602 WARNER Alb. Eng. XII. lxix. 291 At first she feares, but lastly findes the Armor was vn-man'd.

b. Unsupported by men; unassisted. c1620 [FLETCHER & MASS.] Trag. Barnavelt IV. i. in Bullen O. Pl. (1883) II. 271 Make haste, he is yet unmand: we may come time enough To enter with him.

c. Unoccupied by men; unpeopled.

3. Not trained or broken in; spec. of a hawk. 1592 SHAKES. Rom. & Jul. III. ii. 14 Come ciuill night,..Hood my vnman'd blood bayting in my Cheekes, With thy Blacke mantle. 1611 COTGR. s.v. Acheter, Buy a house made, and a wife vnmand. 1623 J. TAYLOR (Water P.) Discov. by Sea Wks. (1630) 28/2 Like a wild Kestrell or vnmand Hawke. a1637 B. JONSON Sad Sheph. III. iii, No colt is so unbroken, Or hawk yet half so haggard or unmann'd.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

a mask has to be horribly beautiful





The Bolivian altiplano is not a home to me, but I recognize it. It's got its dust in my bones and has had, as long as I've had bones. I don't know how it got there, but it's a place that echoes in me. A dream place.