Daily workman hitting the grind.
Cold morning blinking from blind.
Glancing about discovering this’ll
do to pull out a whitsle,
at some lovely behind!
Daily workman hitting the grind.
Cold morning blinking from blind.
Glancing about discovering this’ll
do to pull out a whitsle,
at some lovely behind!
Giving her testimony, taking a breather
Felt she might sweat out her fever,
Could no longer control her tongue
from which the ghastliest truth had sprung.
And still no one, not no one, believed her.
Blue shirted bees tending a hive
Serving poor folks who had ought be in dives.
“This thing always breaks! Its not my mistake!”
Spitting and yelling ’til someone lowers the stakes:
“Sir, there’s a penny in your DVD drive.”
Nature demands my respect
So I remain circumspect
She does not care for my plans
Nor any other man’s
And sooner or later she’ll come to collect.
Buried in computer screen
mind is drawn and deathly clean.
Draw you out to drink the air,
and your humanity we will repair.
Run the wind and regain your spleen.
Breakfast nook, eating a scone
Feeling strangely not all alone,
Glance to my left and then to my right,
Over the fence, in hovering flight,
Zipping away, the neighbor’s drone…
Open my eyes, gee this isn’t great,
Don’t know the time or even the date,
Only know that I ought to be in a rush
Pour shampoo on a toothbrush,
Don’t you just hate waking up late?
Cold air, burning my lungs
Under dressed, foolish and young
The sun is shining, but all is dry
Biting grey wind making her cry
Date is advancing but spring hasn’t sprung
Its been a few weeks since I got back to the job of writing this site. That time has been manic and busy and unfocused and blurred, but the good news is that I have something to show for it. Taking time away from writing (not so deliberately) and spending it with photography has been good for my brain. If I were to consult The War of Art I’m sure I would come back with my tail between my legs, for the truth is that I have gotten afraid of some writing I have started. Usually the things you resist hardest turn out to be your most important work.
Still, today I set some writing out in my schedule alongside time to learn and do a bit of (far too complicated) bookkeeping. Then I promptly spent all of that time editing some recent sets of photos. Now there are lots of arguments for how and how not to figure out just what might be one’s calling for lack of a better term. In fact I have suggested here that one of the very best ways might be to look for what you can’t stop doing (provided you aren’t too absorbed to take a step back). The difficulty lies in the fact that I also know for certain that Steven Pressfield was correct when he wrote The War of Art, that the things you are best at avoiding are the most important. So here I am. Caught in the middle. Obsessively editing, looking back over, ranking, making new versions, and exporting images that I have spent my free days capturing. Its a great way to be, creating. I sit down and there is not, then by the time that I get up, there is.
So today I have these new shots to share. Also check out the new project gallery/homepage here at searching for bohemia, its sucked up a bit too much of my time lately and I hope you enjoy it.
I do my best not to wager or bet,
try to contain my vices and yet,
there she is to bring out my worst
superstition quenches my thirst,
what I see in her smile, must be kismet.