not an oxymoron
Posted in Poems on Apr 13th, 2009
Five Ruby Women
(written after Thursday class)
My hands climb the air slowly on their own.
The canyon floor spread around me,
the pale green trees lacy along the river.
A dense hiss then
a blast of pitting sand folding me before
shooting off like a big air serpent disgusted
by its marbled morsel of me.
And the world halted.
My hands halted.
There was nowhere [...]
Posted in On Personal Practice on Mar 27th, 2008
I’ve been feeling lately that time, or the moving time that whirls the hands on the clock face, is a thick, cement-y porridge filling any crack in my existence. I live bricked up inside a solid wall of time. My practice––it inexplicably fetches me when I’m truly overwhelmed (I cannot explain why I am able [...]
Posted in On Personal Practice on Mar 3rd, 2008
Thinking about friend Karleen’s (Koen––a marvelous writer!!) comment on the frustration of making time for practice. I know this is THE most difficult aspect of Personal Practice––just shoe-horning it into the day. I don’t even think the word ‘resistance’ applies any more, the way it might have two decades ago when there really was a [...]