Sasha
Since I can’t bring myself to drive to Target and negotiate their horrible parking lot, I simply ordered what I needed online and had it delivered. It was so much easier and the cats got a new box.
Glenda
Spunk
Spunk and Marble
Marble, Gwendolyn, and Spunk
Gwendolyn and Spunk
Jupiter
Sandhill Cranes
Interesting sunset in a crystal clear sky. Venus is on the left.
A murder at sunset
Beaver Moon rising as viewed from Beaver Point.
500-year lunar eclipse taken approximately every 15 minutes from 12:44 am to 3:30 am with Beaver Moon in clouds and beaver.
pTerodactyl watching, reflecting, flying
Crow with Venus. Owl in silhouette.
Jupiter. Venus. Beaver Moon in the trees.
Spunk waiting with AantíiciipÁation!
Gabriela announced the winners of her Woman: Splendor and Sorrow: | Love Poems and Poetic Prose poetry contest this morning. I am very excited to announce that I shared Third Place with D. Wallace Peach. Congratulations to Virginia Mateias for her First Place poem, and Ingrid Wilson, and Eric Daniel Clarke for their Second Place poems. You can read all the poems at: The Winners of The Poetry Contest Woman: Splendor and Sorrow: | Love Poems and Poetic Prose.
My poem is One Side Sacred The Other Side Profane inspired by Gabriela’s poem Between Sacred and Profane. I based my poem on W. Eugene Smith’s activism against mercury poisoning in Minamata, Japan in the 1970s. He published a book titled Minamata: Life Sacred and Profane in 1972 that brought the issue worldwide attention. I first saw the book when I was a photo student at the University of New Mexico in the early 1980s. I wanted to buy a copy of the book back then, but I couldn’t afford it as a student. Now copies sell for hundreds of dollars, so I still don’t have one. W. Eugene Smith was one of the most important American photojournalists of the 20th Century. I don’t think he ever took a bad photo. His County Doctor series is brilliant. Chisso employees attacked and beat Smith in 1972. Smith lost sight in one eye and never really recovered. He died in 1978 at the tender age of 59. His death was a huge loss to the world of photography.
Dawn
We have cloudy skies tonight. The photos below are from last night before I encountered the zombies and sprites.
Christine’s Tree with the moon in the background. Mia’s Tree under Venus. Christine’s Tree with a bicycle in the background.
Sunset
Sliver
Tangle Heart Tree with clouds, contrails, and Venus (barely visible)
Crow under contrail
Gabriela’s and Tiffany’s Trees (left). Freerange Tree (center). Gabriela’s Tree (right).
Jupiter with moons
Jupiter, Crescent Moon, and Venus in a bent line. Saturn’s between Jupiter and the Moon, but it’s not bright enough to show up in the wide-angle photo.
Moon over the Rio Grande at dusk.
Moon over cranes in the Rio Grande at dusk.
Moon in the Tangle Heart Tree.
Jupiter with moons and stars.
Cranes: What’s the big deal? We could fly up to the moon if we wanted to!
Sliver moon watches
Venus surf dark clouds at dusk
Over black laced trees
Like dark crescent moons
Black leaves dangle mockingly
Sliver moon shines bright
Naked from north winds
Branches stretching towards sky
Mimics clouds at dusk
After I “set up us the bomb” over the past two days with 1) my confabulations on free will, evil in the world, weed, euthanasia, and problem-solving through procrastination, among other answers to Eleanor’s questions, and 2) my psycho-delic visualization of T.U.L.I.P., I’m falling back with the time change, and offering straight photos that you can simply enjoy without a lot of thought or assault on your auditory system.
Shey’s tree finally turned yellow. It was holding out for the longest time. Jupiter is a spec of light in the upper right-hand corner of the photo.
Low hanging haze under mostly clear skies provided a nice gradation of colors in the after sunset glow. Venus is shining bright on the left.
Penultimate moon rises
Waning crescent thinly lit
Winks one last time before
Waking opposite Uranus
That makes one distant, impulsive
Seeing Mercury sextile Venus
Scorpio on the border with
Virgo, Libra
Procession of equinoxes
Ofrenda
On All Hallows Eve, the Tangle Heart Tree catches spirits and holds them until Prime’s light collects them.
Sun sets, darkness falls
All Hallows Eve calls
Thirsty spirits to scratch and claw at the walls of Sheol
Licking sweet honied milk poured from sorcerer’s bowl
Conjured spirits slip through holes
Prey on wandering, long lost souls
Free to find and eat their fills
Until Prime’s light reclaims their wills
Sun rises spirits pulled asunder
Sorcerer’s bowl lies emptied, plundered
The Incognito Pear tree is under on All Hallows Eve where the spirits get tangled trying to get out of Sheol.
Santa Cynthia prays all night on All Hallows Eve for our souls to be safe from the spirits released by sorcerers’ milk and honey.
My friend Ron, who was born four days after me in the same hospital, we grew up together, and there is not I time that we can remember not knowing each other, sent me a photo of my horoscope as part of his wishing me a happy birthday. He commented that 41 days was an odd number of days to be extraordinarily lucky. Forty-one is truly an odd number, and prime, as it is only divisible by 1 and 41, and I told him it was odd because it was between Biblical and the answer to life, the universe, and everything. The horoscope is very positive. Another interesting aspect of the horoscope is that the first four of my lucky numbers add up to be my age, and the fifth number is Biblical.
I ended up doing a lot of errands on the way home from work, and a lot of different chores after I got home this afternoon. The weather was clouds moving through, being pushed by high winds and the temperature had dropped significantly from yesterday. Well after sundown, facing wind and cold, I walked out to the river and got photos of the cranes in the darkness, the wild clouds, and the colors lingering in the dusk.
Off Center & Not Even 