Friday, July 31, 2009

Haiku #210

In your cut-off life
you resemble reptile ancestors,
Little Bird

I was coming back from the mailbox this steamy afternoon, my eyes on the ground and lost in dreamy thought, when I saw this little bird. I don't know how it got there; it wasn't near a tree. I went inside and got my camera. Because I was in such a dreamy state, I didn't think to mark to place, so it took me a while to find the bird again. It was only ten minutes or so, but in that brief time, the body had already changed. It was more limp and the head had fallen into the rocks. I know a lot of people will think it morbid of me to be so fascinated with this dead creature, but I find beauty in it.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Novel update

I've been wrestling with this novel so long that it's hard to find new ways of talking about my work on it. Now that my trip is over and I've rested a bit, I'm back on it. I did quite a bit of writing--bits and pieces--on the road, and much of it I feel good about.

When I looked over my drafts, I found them to be cluttery. While I was on the road, I found a voice and method that pleases me. So, yes, I am starting over. Not really starting over because I'm using most of what I've already written. It just needs to be recast in the new voice, style. And of course when you change your voice, your narrator changes, and when your narrator changes, everything does. So it's best just to start fresh.

But I have a new plan. I've figured out that if I write just three to four pages a week, I will have the book finished in a year. I hope to do better than that--finish earlier--but for right now this plan seems possible. Fifty-two weeks times four pages is 208-pages, a good length for a novel and certainly the longest single work I have ever written.

I am off to a good start. I told one of the Graduate Students I taught last fall that my new prose is like fresh, clean sheets snapping on a line just waiting for a reader to take them in, put them on their bed, and warm them with their body.

New goal: By the end of July 2010 have a complete first draft of novel 2 finished.

If I do as well with this goal as I did with the Haiku, I'll be happy. My original goal was to write 100 Haiku in a year. I started last fall and so far have over 200.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Haiku #209

Old Graybeard,
spirit mask:
Bison in snow

Haiku #208

Makes soft clicking sounds
above the geysers:
crow flying

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Haiku #207

The best fry bread
I ever had was made
in Monument Valley

Haiku #206

Bikers have stony
Mount Rushmore faces
in the West

Haiku #205

Men grasp bottles by the neck
to drink beer in the casino
at Cody, Wyoming

Haiku #204

Three blackbirds
ride its back: bison
grazing on the hill

Haiku #203

There's a place at Mammoth
Hot Springs the color of gold--
Touch the water with your hands

Haiku #202

Have you ever
seen a big elk

Haiku #201

Our dogs
chase a ball in mountain snow--
The Cascades in July

Haiku #200

make green mountains blue
near Butte, Montana

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Monument Valley: The Navajo Reservation

Through the windshield on the way to Monument Valley.

A roadside stand in Monument Valley on the Navajo Reservation.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Brief Internet Access!

Three more photos of Arches. I took this photo at ground-level. I liked the texture of the dry, cracked earth and how it contrasted with the smooth rock in the background.

This photo has a sense of movement, created by the lines in the stone.

I love this photo that I took of Allen. It was overcast at Arches that day. The cloud cover was dramatic.



About Me

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Northwest Ohio, United States
"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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Fave Painting: Eden

Fave Painting:  Eden

Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

Fave Painting:  The Three Ages of Man and Death
by Albrecht Dürer

From the First Chapter

The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

My Original Artwork: Triptych

My Original Artwork:  Triptych



Little Deer

Little Deer



Looking Forward, Looking Back

Looking Forward, Looking Back