The Space Between The Hours and Minutes
Click to view details
The hours are expressions on
faces that I do not know.
The minutes are made of
hands that fit into mine.
The seconds are lost in the space between
and it is there that I find you.
...Enjoy!
Leg And Foot And Arm And Hand
Click to view details
She woke me this morning with a
kiss and it is how we should all wake up and
I know that she knows
it was another late night last night and
I was wandering the house at 4:00 am and
working over the keys and the colors and
there is a crossroads and
I am standing there and
it is this that makes
these nights become
what they are.
"What time is it?" she whispered as I slid into bed.
"5:30" I whispered back.
Under the blankets her leg and her foot and her arm and her hand
all moved closer and after all these years
it is not necessary to say anything more and
in the darkness
the paths at the crossroads are
well lit
and she is there no matter which way
I go.
... Enjoy!
Damn.
I could cry.
I just wrote the whole story for this and when I hit SAVE the computer froze and
I lost it all and I can't rewrite it now because I'm just not in that place anymore.
Damn.
I'll revisit it another day when the time is right and the mind is right and the words are right and for now I'll just leave you with the painting.
Damn.
... Enjoy!
It doesn't really matter how or why I was there but I was. I was sitting in the lobby at the J.W. Marriot downtown and waiting. I suppose that is all you really do in a lobby anyway, is wait, isn't it? I sat in one of the modern, simple, black leather chairs under the large glass windows overlooking the river and the sun coming through the large plates of glass felt like I was somewhere else and then my phone rang in my pocket and reminded me that I wasn't somewhere else. I was there, in the lobby. I decided to get up and walk around and check out the artwork and daydream and explore and I went up the stairs and into a large group of people milling around waiting for a seminar to begin and I milled about too and I couldn't help but notice a lot of milling around an open bar, so like any upstanding good citizen, I got in line and within a couple of minutes was sipping a nice cold Heinekin, by the railing, over looking the first floor and I could even still see the river from there.
There are moments in life that everything is effortless and there should be a music soundtrack going on behind you.
I drank my beer before it had a chance to get warm and I put it on a table near the bar and I walked back downstairs and found my same chair under the same window looking out at the same river.
... Enjoy!
Things You Learn From A Broken Nose
Click to view details
It was the day that I learned to drive a stick. The high school was rather empty because it was after detention and Toby and I were walking down the long hallway that led to parking lot by the gymnasium and the pool. We were laughing and joking around and being general idiots and we were walking behind two other people (a boyfriend and girlfriend) who were also leaving after detention. The boy apparently thought we were laughing at them and without warning turned around and slugged Toby directly in the nose and the blood poured from his face and his nose was busted up like a big, rotten, squished strawberry and his eyes were quickly swelling shut. We weren't fighters. (Plus, you know better than to fight people that are prone to do irratic things like punching people in the face for no reason. It's something you learn young.) By the time we knew what happened the puncher and his girl were gone and I helped Toby to his car and the blood kept pouring from his face and he sat down in the passenger side and put the seat back. "You drive," he said and handed me the keys. "OK," I said. "You can drive a stick, right?" he asked. "I'm about to learn," I said. "Yes, you are," he said.
I put the key in the ignition. "Push your left on the left pedal and turn the key..." he said.
I looked over at his bloody face, pushed down with my left foot and turned the key. Blood dripped down onto his shirt.
...Enjoy!
There Is Lipstick and The Love Poem Is Not Dead Quite Yet
Click to view details
There is lipstick on the coffee mug that sits next to sink and
I know that she has been there.
There are earrings on the dresser and
I know that she has been there.
There is the sweet smell of her perfume in the air and
I know that she has been there.
There is no more emptiness inside and
I know that she has been there.
...Enjoy!
No One Knows You In These Moments
Click to view details
It was 4:53 AM when I slid out of bed and tiptoed across the cold floor and quietly shut the door behind me. The house was dark and cold and still and I went downstairs and sat on the couch and lit up the room with the TV screen.
No one knows you in these moments.
It was cold in the house and as images flickered on the TV, I remembered one time I was standing outside the fitting room while she tried on new clothes and a woman who walked by pointed to the Keemo button on my jacket and said, "I love your button. I am a huge fan of his work." I wasn't sure what to say, so I fessed up. "Well, thank you and nice to meet you, I am Keemo." We talked for a few minutes and she was very nice and she said that "she thought I would be taller" and I laughed and I knew that one of these days I would work that line of hers into a story.
No one knows you in these moments.
I flipped channels and it was still dark and I had a blanket over me and there were a million reasons why I should go back up to bed and only a few reasons why I did not. I could hear the dog pacing on the wood floor above me and I considered taking something to put me to sleep but what was keeping me awake was more important than stealing a dream before the morning alarm.
No one knows you in these moments
and it is these moments that make us.
...Enjoy!
In The Kitchen With Girls And Music
Click to view details
There is a fresh apple core to my left and
a hammer without nails and
a pencil and a
a sad song floating up the stairs from the
speakers downstairs.
This is a song for anyone
With a broken heart
This is a song for anyone
Who can't get out of bed
sings the sad song and
I can't help but think that I am
glad this song wasn't around when
I was young and fragile because
it would have been
the end of me.
The girls are in the kitchen and they are
making wonderful everything and
from the tone of thier voices I can tell
there is a lot of listening and
somewhere in all this is happiness and
I must go look
for it.
...Enjoy!
The Seats Are Filled With Names
Click to view details
Every person
In this waiting room
looks doomed.
The expressions on the faces
read like Kafka and
I can't help but feel like
all of us sitting here are the butt
of some surreal joke.
The nurse calls names and
thier seat is filled with new names
who will be called later and
I wait for my name and
an old woman sits next to me and
she doesn't seem so doomed
like the others.
"Beautiful day," she says to me as she sits down.
"Yes, it is," I say.
She hums to herself with a slight smile on her face.
The nurse comes through the door and I hear my name.
"That's me," I say as I get up. "Have a good day," I say to the lady.
"I already am," she said. "Thank you."
...Enjoy!
Better Than Any Words
Click to view details
After I finished this painting, it really started to grow on me and I realized that the actual event that this was about was really just kind of silly and it wasn't worth even going on about. Not to mention, I just thought the expression on the face summed it all up better than any words that I would write. So, with that, here is to just letting things be as they are and what they are is up to you...Enjoy!
