Work 26: Porch Pumpkins

I had intended to apply blade to these pumpkins. It is mid-November and they remain safely unblemished atop the porch railing. Pumpkin carving is fun stuff, but I don't think it is happening this time around. I like looking at them just as they are. And they will last all the more long without the holes. I enjoy the whole pumpkin. This morning's fog gave an extra charming backdrop for gourd gazing.

Work 25: Sometimes I get up/You always get up.

Sometimes I sleep in. Most times, really. Sometimes I get up to make coffee for someone who can not sleep in. This is when I see you. You always get up. Usually first. Always up.

Work 24: Sad Tie

This is a tablet doodle that was doodled while I was trying to draw something else. It is nothing like what ever I was intending to draw and is very much its own thing. I named the file "Sad Tie" and saved it. I open it on occasion to see what it is. Then I think about posting it, but don't. Well, here it is, Sad Tie.

Work 23: Saturday Night by Lamplight

Tonight in the quiet house I write. It is one of the few things I can do. I can always write. The words spilling out of my ever-dying pen. It is like talking to a friend. I can say anything that I know how to say. I may not have a friend in one hundred miles but I can write. Doing so is something for my hands and my mind. It gives purpose to a listless body and grabs hold of a scattered head. On the page I have a place and in the ink a presence. If I am not here for somebody else, then at least for something else. I am surrounded by words and their permanence finds companionship in time while space is empty and lonely.


I see now that I need a new word. Nothing I already know will do. I need a word that once it is begun it will not end. The space between words leads my thoughts away. But if I were to have a big enough word I could just go on writing it and not stopping. It would say everything and leave room for nothing.