coming back from Breakfast. 

this little strip of woods
between the street and the highway,

the Hudson River
beyond the highway,
and the Palisades across the Hudson-
are what i see
on my way back from Vickie’s Dinner,
and breakfast
once a week. 

and what i like
is that soon
the spare black and brown
(mostly vertical) jumble of tree trunks and branches
will begin to sprout small green buds,
than little leaves..
and i am looking forward
to warm weather once again.
and what is now a little strip of winter woods
will be a lush green forest
and, (except for the sounds from the highway)
only God knows how far you can go
into those woods.

as i wait for the light to change,
the late Winter sunlight
just hits the top floor of the six story building
across the street, on Broadway,
where i live.

as i enter my apartment
(strictly speaking, the apartment where i rent my room)
i must be careful not to trip over
my room mate’s collection of stuff,
piled everywhere,  
between the front door
and the space where i eat, sleep, make music and art,
have my harpsichord,
and watch videos on my Macbook.  

my friend Bob once said the journey through my apartment
(3 rooms, kitchen and bath)
was like traveling through a dark cave
until you opened my door
where there is so much light (on a sunny day)
that you have to wait for your eyes to adjust.

1/25/15

Black Shade / Ed Askew  

Picasso made a weeping woman
from blue shadows, cast on windows
i'm watching a film, on an old projector
1940 was a year to remember

and after that, the great disaster




 weeping men played chess in shelters
weeping men played chess in shelters
when i was playing with George Dugan

and only a black shade and the sirens
disturbed the dreams of a child sleeping
and only a black shade and the sirens
disturbed the dreams of a child sleeping

Picasso made a weeping woman
from blue shadows, cast on windows
i'm watching film on an old projector
1940 was a year to rememberfrom

WHAT WE ARE, released 22 May 2015

---

Kasimir Malevich


black and white
old photograph on my desk
red and black
Russian abstract painting

yellow
certainly NOT the sun
(yellow from a tube?)
green and gold
something i've forgotten
(something about the spring
and that boy who used to like me)
we hitched to mystic when he was 12
and snuck into the sea port like two spies
checking out the old boats
walking around with whisky in a honey bare
me pretending to be his father
i'll never forget it 

https://summerstepsrecords.bandcamp.com/album/little-houses 
photo: Tom at 16

George Caleb Bingham

when i arrived in San Francisco in Winter (probably) 1976, i had almost no money or art supplies, except some colored pencils. so i got a box of writing paper, and started ripping up whatever i could find, (including unsuccessful attempts at making art) and started making colleges.
this kept my mind off my need to find a job; until my need for food and stuff became pressing.     

when i cleared my Blog 
i seem to have lost my followers. 
my mistake. 

please come back.