Got the good news that Fiona and Kal, of the A River of Stones project, accepted the poem from the January 3 posting for their up-coming book! That made my day right there! I think the submission time is now closed so I am eagerly awaiting to see who else is in the book. I know my favorite bookseller - Joel Crockett - of the Four Eyed Bookstore is a particpant and I am hoping we both will be there putting Gualala on the River of Stones map.

a round trip ticket

the shape of a navel

promises us

at the end of this life

we come back home

With the images of blizzards and snowstorms in the rest of the nation, this amount of snow comes off as very puny. However, after a hailstorm, this was my reality and I was delighted by it. So seldom do we get our surfaces covered with these light-changing effects that the heart cannot help but be moved.

Have been listening to lectures on the Great Courses CDs I was shocked to know how much of music history has been lost. All that music, all that joy moved out into the universe without a trace and here is snow on my porch.

pink hail

on carpets of heather

the will to live

so close to the cold

deepens the hue

The proof books arrived and those extra days of working on the pdf files paid off. Every thing sits where I wanted it, there are no major goofs that jump out at me and all in all the book feels very substantial and just plain "good." When I slide back down off the high of seeing it I will begin to go over it word-by-word to see what got away from me and catch it now.

One other decision I need to make is how to and if I must, get the kanji on the cover. Will see what happens when I try that again without the pressure to get things done.

With the return of Aya's kanji versions of her Introduction I thought Taking Tanka Home, the second version was done. I finally got the computer to realize it did have the Acrobat printer in it and could do a pdf. So I printed it out expecting only a couple goofs.

There were about 50 errors! Where did they all come from? How could a manuscript just lying in a computer for several months create so many mistakes? I know the digital files are magic but are they also possessed? Maybe strawberries for Valentine's Day will de-spell them.

mountains as fountains

a poet workman becomes

more visible

the higher one goes

the more one can see of her

Today is the Poetry Outloud and Poetry Slam events of four local schools in the Point Arena Theater. Somehow the noise of a waterfall and its glory, and the rush and excitement of it fits with my proposed afternoon. It is always so inspiring to hear young voices speaking old poems (POL event) and then, even more exciting - hearing their own poems in the Slam.

*The photo is of Vernal Falls by Heidi Vetter - another child!

Am feeling so good about the Confrontational Art exhibit at Gualala Arts Center that opened last night. It was such a joy to stand in the rooms, both the foyer and gallery, and be surrounded by so much great art and all of it making statements and raising issues. Such a joy buoys me up yet today.

the steep cliff

letting itself crumble

into the sea

slowly as a year

or visit of foreigners

Ah, a morning with nothing pressing, nothing demanding to be done, nothing that cannot be just as well put off until tomorrow. What a joy! Just nothing! All the time in the world. I may even live forever! I think Virginia Woolf referred to this as a "pearl of a day". . . Yes, one which is open to everything and pushed and pulled into any shape by a previous obligation.

I do not mind walls

no ladder needs the bird

but skies

to know from a summer day

how to stand on top of things

What I need is a computer connection directly from my brain to this site. Then as I meditate on a thing, its picture and my thoughts could come here without having to wait for me to have the time and patience to sit at the desk.

Here is my friend Kaye Like having some fun with the Dolly in the gallery. Her happiness and joy in playing was my special moment of that day.

after the storm

time heals all wounds

memory

keeps them in cold storage

until the bridge is repaired

The steady days of rain are gone and the chemical burns are slowly healing. Yet what surprised me was that while writing book reviews for Lynx, I slipped from encouraging others to read others' books, and I began to devalue my own past work. Even when the sun shines I can slip so easily into losing faith in my own works. Maybe it happens most easily when things are looking up and a dark period seems to be over - when we let our guard down and cross that bridge with missing slats.

hands folded

praying for a pure heart

yet my best day

a path of destruction

among the earth's gifts

A rainy day left me meditating on how much I use in food, warmth, dish washing soap, toilet paper, thread, salve and band aids in just one day. I thought of the earth being diminished by that much by one person and tried to multiply it out for the billions joining me in this daily destruction. My mind boggles with thanksgiving that we are allowed to continue.

Was awakened in the night to the sound of rain when the barometer had been predicting sunny weather. As I listened to this gentle, moist drumroll I let myself be carried off to other realms. The water in me joined the currents of rainwater just outside the warm shell of the room, through the open window, back into the wild. And I dreamed I attended a meeting of computer

experts. Not only did I not understand what they were talking about, or even doing but I was wearing the wrong clothes.

rainforest
the voices of birds
in ferns
unrolling the sound
of a night-time shower

On windless days the sun slides across the sea - a visitor eager to make our acquaintance. In thundering waves they arrive to lodge in small tidepools.

mirror shine
flashing from the sea
small clouds
thinking of other worlds
our slotted eyes of aliens

I have been contemplating this strong and primal (it seems) belief that going to a doctor will make something better. In the last month a couple of spots on my skin had changed so I eagerly got an appointment, waited the two weeks even more eager to get seen, and joyfully torpedoed my morning to go off to the doctor's office. He said the spots were 'only dry skin' but sprayed them anyhow with that cold fuzzy stuff. Today I have huge blisters that itch and burn.
I am marveling that I was so eager to go get this discomfort. What is it in us (me?) that believes so confidently that going to the doctor will make something better? Why I cannot learn anything from having this repeated so often over the years?

What a delight! I find that my favorite bookseller, Joel Crockett, in Gualala at the Four-Eyed Frog Book store is also doing the River of Stones project! His blog is up and going. Check out that photo of the day the hail fell on Gualala. The warmth of his shop is perfectly portrayed.
It feels so special to know that kindred souls, out of touch for months at a time, but so close in space, meet again in this project. Blessed be!

On Thursday afternoon, when Nanette Wylde and Kent and I were installing the show DOLLED UP at Gualala Arts Center, there was a huge pause in the activity and we all seemed to have the same thought at once - the show did not have enough in it. Nanette asked me if I had some of my dolls that could be shown and I nodded in agreement as I rushed out the door to drive home. In a blur I grabbed boxes out of cupboards, took works off the walls and shelves in the living room. As I shoved the last box into the trunk, it was as if someone spoke and told me to take the roll of white paper.

Back at the art center Nan & Kent seemed delighted with the new-to-them works but wondered how to get all those bits and pieces on pedestals that did not mimic Signe's work in the other corner. Suddenly I began to crush paper and pull it up into the corner. Kent immediately got my drift and began to help by nailing it in place. Within minutes three long strips of paper were waterfalling over pedestals and we began to play with the dolls. You can see some are sliding down the falls, others are marooned on rocky islands and some even dribble up on to the shore of the gallery carpeting. It was one of those delightful moments when the art takes over and becomes itself.

celebrating

a new camera

in a new year

these people captured

in electric sparks

Most of my awareness was focused on getting Dolly to stand up to her true height here at Gualala Art Center. We were working so hard we all forgot to measure her while we still had the scissors lift in the room. Even without knowing that she dominates the room - at this moment. On Thursday the rest of the show comes into the room.

sleepless

the gift of these hours

that I am alive

the awareness of having

another moment of life

That pretty much says what touched me. Instead of being unhappy because I am too nervous to sleep (because of the Dolled UP show going up this week) I see these hours as opportunity to be aware of my aliveness. We want to extend our lives to the very end (and some wish even beyond that) but each moment awake is also part of my delight in my life - even if it is in the dark when everyone else sleeps.

This was done for the "from your kitchen window" haiga exercise at the AHAforum. In this small photo you cannot read the haiku which is:

dishwater

on the window

raindrops

After having the experience last summer of our well going dry I am very aware of each raindrop coming down here and the snowflakes on the Sierra Mountains which will arrive later to keep us clean and functioning.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Waking to blue skies instead of rain made me appreciate that from now on each day will be one minute longer - the light will be with us in increasing amounts. It may be cold and there may be more rain but the light returns.

one minute

the crowing of a rooster

measures

the light is returning

with the cry in my throat