Monday, November 28, 2011

Tampa, TPA, Trampa, Tampon

Photos from my trip to Tampa, Florida. View more here, and more to come following my god-awful long layover at Hobby airport.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim grey sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving olden dances, Mingling hands and mingling glances Till the moon has taken flight; To and fro we leap And chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And is anxious in its sleep. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.  Where the wandering water gushes From the hills above Glen-Car,. In pools among the rushes That scarce could bathe a star, We seek for slumbering trout And whispering in their ears Give them unquiet dreams; Leaning softly out From ferns that drop their tears Over the young streams. Come away, O human child! To to waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For to world's more full of weeping than you can understand. 

Friday, November 18, 2011

Dakota's Quilt

Blue moon of Kentucky, early sunset of November, sweet sugar sticking to my blue painted toes from crawling all along the bathroom floor spreading lacquer and love while sugar cookies congeal in the oven. Dark night of six o'clock, sweet promise of a flight leading to the promised land according to ancient Spaniards. Dinosaur bones hiding beneath fern leaves, my mind turns to swampier places including campfire pits tucked behind a bamboo gate. Earth balance and almond milk, the kitchen smells like winter. I will leap from the runway and bound into my loved ones' arms. I will deliver homemade gifts and kisses. I will bake more cookies with my great-grandmother's recipe plus earth balance and almond milk. I will launch into the ancient future on Wednesday and earn the hours back on Monday, having stuffed my belly full.

At the end of Spring I lived in an apartment on the north side of the lake with two humans and two cats. The cats, as far as I know are the same in number, but the humans have decided to procreate and multiply! Alak, babies need quilts.

Well, it's finished! And shipped on Monday to awaiting arms and bulging stomach.

Friday, November 11, 2011


I grew up on the Gulf Coast of Florida where mangrove forests thrive and strangle all other shore plants - my friends and I used to collect mangrove seeds, pop em open, and watch the little sprouts struggle for survival. Then we would dive into lagoons full of calcium deposits licking our calloused feet, bleed on limestone shells, and dash across sand to boardwalks to watch crabs hunt.

My roommates and friend has a great series of photos of mangroves in Colombia, which you can peep here.

My own photos below: 1) a cormorant in the Hillsborough River State Forest, the same forest I used to live in. 2) lily pads in Lake Forest subdivision, my home during my last years of college. (above) Lake Forest just before sunset.

Friday, November 4, 2011

So Much

There is so much happening in our world right now. Occupy Oakland swelled to 8,000 or so on Wednesday, these photos are from the weekend when it was much quieter at city center. There is a lot of public art, for example a "curtain of grief" which are yarn and fabric remnants strung from trees under which you can walk and contribute to numerous shrines. This week I am especially proud to be an Oaklander.

As I write this a group of activists floats towards Gaza in an attempt to defy Israeli tyranny. Video from Democracy Now

As if to deny shifting paradigms and excessive change I am going to Las Vegas for the weekend to be inundated with lights, booze, sad glittery people, and a circus performance. What a world.