Mayday Mayday

some things never change.

A Recovering Surrealist

"I have always been amazed at the way an ordinary observer lends so much more credence and attaches so much more importance to waking events than to those occurring in dreams... Man... is above all the plaything of his memory. "
Andre Breton

William Morris

"Not on one strand are all life's jewels strung."
William Morris

Saint Theresa's Prayer for Rick Tonight

May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where
you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities
that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received
and pass on the love that has been given you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones
and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise
and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.

We Are All Moving Inside an Intelligence

Finding the questions. Maybe the poems are the amber
bottles that contain the medicine.
Paul Muldoon and Nigel Smith now have a NJ rock band.
umm, friends should not let friends start rock bands.

Saints Need Sinners

Working with poets today... someone sent this poem from Betting on the Muse.

defining the magic

a good poem is like a cold beer when you need it,
a good poem is a hot turkey sandwich when you're hungry,
a good poem is a gun when the mob corners you,
a good poem is something that allows you to
walk through the streets of death,
a good poem can make death melt like hot butter,
a good poem can frame agony and hang it on the wall,
a good poem can let your feet touch China,
a good poem can make a broken mind fly,
a good poem can let you shake hands with Mozart,
a good poem can let you shoot craps with the devil and win,
a good poem can do almost anything,
and most important a good poem knows when to stop.

Charles Bukowski

An April Offering

Forgive me for leaping past April's leaf litter and violent blue into lavender.

"Violent blue hues

Spatter gray-brown leaf litter

Violets in bloom"

K.C.

Carry On

This little poster rendered by Maira Kalman, keeps me company in the office. It worked overtime today when my eyes returned to it repeatedly... for what seemed like hours, waiting for good news to arrive from Boston.

Artist's Reception

Closing one exhibit and opening another this evening. Chris Kappmeier painted these beautiful flowers. I love that when you meet Chris, the last thing you would ever suspect is that he would paint a still life with tulips. Chris reminds me of Van Gogh.

Words from Rick

" To my well-wishers one and all, thank you kindly for your friendly words and expressions of solidarity. It helps a lot. I'll be wearing my amazing technicolor dreamcoat of constantly chanted prayers into the operating room, and if they tell me I have to take it off I'm going to answer, Bite me. Plus I'll have the tiny beautiful green iPod--thank you, thank you, thank you.

Betty will continue the Good Health Forum while I'm in the hospital for the next seven days, so that we can all continue our come-from-nowhere, out-of-the-blue, 61-message obsession with Rick's colon. Never did I think my colon would bring me so many friends. Never underestimate your organs, they can be full of surprises, to say nothing of twists and turns.

And now a few closing words from T.S. Eliot:

"Let us go then, you and I,

While the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table.

Let us go through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats of restless nights

In one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster shells,

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question--

Oh do not ask what is it,

Let us go and make our visit."

Peace by Piece by Piece

My hope is that Drake LaRue and Ariel Botswinger are now in Cambridge surprising Rick on the eve of his surgery, nothing compares to a visit like that except maybe an email from the Horrible F.U. Fisher which summarizes the situation well...
" Rick, I can't believe the wierd cosmic juxtaposition of you and Pete getting sick at the same time. As terrible as this ordeal must be for you both, I also can't help thinking about how this forum ,and especially your nightly musings (which we all look forward to like a visit from an old friend), have created a beautiful positive community. Sure we'd expect the McNally clan to hang tough, but your plight ,and the classy dignity that you and Peter share with us adopted McNallys, is inspirational. You are the sick guys, but you are making us healthier through all the positive waves created by the forum. On a personal note, I've even been blessed with a great new friend, Allan, King of the Sawx Fans.......so good luck tomorrow.....with all the love and prayers this saga is manifesting I am sure that you will come out great! Then its full focus on Peter, King of the Yankee Fans!"

End of the Week

Poof - this week is over.

Tonight's Collage

"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end."

Virginia Woolf

Showcase Helpers

Someone forwarded this photo from the showcase - thanks again to my special assistants.

Dante's Tomb

Saw this image fly by among many today on someone's monitor. An image from Santa Croce in Florence. We will miss you Robert.

Thundersnow

not this much snow, not nearly this much, actually nowhere near this much snow..but surprisingly during the night the sound of thunder woke me up and the view from the window was all snow and rain

Gentle Rain

gentle rain all day long, lovely actually.

Snip Snip Snip

i think i am done editing. i hope i am done editing...patty, let's talk about pagination, all-knowing one.

Balancing Act

There's a little too much happening all at once...there's a little too much happening all at once...there's a little too much happening all at once.

A Poem by Billy Collins

Litany

You are the bread and the knife,

The crystal goblet and the wine... -Jacques Crickillon

You are the bread and the knife,

the crystal goblet and the wine.

You are the dew on the morning grass

and the burning wheel of the sun.

You are the white apron of the baker,

and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,

the plums on the counter,

or the house of cards.

And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.

There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,

maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,

but you are not even close to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show

that you are neither the boots in the corner

nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,

speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,

that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,

the evening paper blowing down an alley

and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees

and the blind woman's tea cup.

But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.

You are still the bread and the knife.

You will always be the bread and the knife,

not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

Billy Collins

Junior Prom

Narrowly escaping a concussion during his lacrosse game as well as pouring rain and rush hour traffic, Ryan managed to arrive at Lindsey's smiling.

Late Afternoon

Working on the Program Guide

A Lindt Chocolate Bunny

the most delicious chocolate bunny ever...wow.

A Few Snowflakes Today

Winter isn't quite done with us.

Relativity

When things change, it throws new light on everything...the bright light of scrutiny gets thrown every which way.

Monday

It's Monday

and almost time

to take Patty to

the airport.

She's been on

the road for

over a month

now.

We'll miss her

magic here.