September 7, 2008

pictures from heaven...

Okay, so we go camping every year up near Yellowstone. This year we tried a new spot and it was lovely. Here are some pictures...


We saw some great sunsets...
And here is my tent--I was right on the river so I was lulled to sleep every night!We went up to the Crandle one day, here is dad fishing and a shot of the river--
I was obsessed with taking pictures of berries and other small objects this trip...


I was fascinated with this tree...

Here's a close-up of the moss...

Hope you enjoyed those bits of heaven!

September 6, 2008

improvements...

Okay- so I'm not much for understanding web code, but I've figured out enough to help clean up this blog--I'm still tweaking, but let me know what you think of the new look. I took both the pictures I used--the title pic being from Peru and the other being clouds in Namibia.

August 31, 2008

Pardon the mess...

Okay- apparently the gal who designed my blog has deleted her photobucket account, along with my picture! I'm a bit upset at the whole thing, especially since I PAID for this blog--but if I can't get it back, well, I know a designer who can help me get something better. So please don't give up on me just because my blog looks crappy right now. I'm working on it...

August 5, 2008

borrowing and recycling...

The Poetic Asides weekly challenge for last week was to write a "cento" poem--a poem that pulls all lines from the works of other poets. Well, I've read a lot of poetry but don't have it all memorized, so I figured it would take a while for me to find the time. But thanks to Miss Pottenger and her 3 notebooks full of poems--and a little bit of time with the works of Billy Collins and my 2 books of various poets--I was able to gather several pages of lines.

Tonight, I spent some time putting these lines together, recycling them in a way, and creating something altogether new. Here's my poem (with a nod to the original authors at the end):

Parentheses

In deserts, where no men abide,
the lone and level sands stretch far away,
and the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes—
the eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I know the paths I’m likely to walk tomorrow—
ask me no more if east or west—
down to a sunless sea
(no one should feel this alone.)
You sleep through the thunder
and all that’s best of dark and light.
Things have had time to get complicated.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I am undone tonight;
slain by a single silent piece of ice.
O the bleeding drops of red—
(is loving someone that much of a crime?)
If we could but touch the open space
under the weight of water and years and folly—
pack up the moon and dismantle the sun—
for this, for everything, we are out of tune.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)


With thanks to the following poets: Edmund Waller, Percy Bysshe Shelly, Edgar Allen Poe, T.S. Eliot, Sylvia Plath, Carl Dennis, Thomas Carew, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Jewel Kitcher, Madeline L’Engle, Lord Byron, Billy Collins, Ben Jonson, Janet R. Prinzing, Walt Witman, Andrew Pottenger, Kevin Max Smith and W.H. Auden

July 30, 2008

in the woodwork...

Sometimes, I wish I could hide in the woodwork. Might be fun. I'd pick a piece that had some great carved detail--I'm sure I could entertain myself for a few hours or days.

Last night I couldn't get to sleep because my creative mind would NOT shut off. Too much reading. And now, I'm up but have no place to go since the mall is slow and they canceled the shift I managed to scrounge up. I should write. I have my plot ninja and he usually helps out when my muse is still asleep, but I'd rather mope for a few minutes.

Okay, no more self-pity wallowing. I guess it is time to face the world. And maybe find some lunch!