Morning Light


Stephen Howard, Morning Light (Tree Island Series), Oil on Board, 800 x 800 mm. (via Your Eyes Blaze Out)

“Born in Masterton, Stephen Howard lived in Christchurch, New Zealand for several years before relocating to Auckland.  Howard paints New Zealand architecture and landscape, but manipulates the subject matter to give an atmospheric sense of strangeness. Contrasts are his thing – a tree against the repetitive patterns of an apartment block, a pale concrete building with a dark doorway and rust over the door. Howard seldom depicts a single place. He takes buildings out of their original context and re-imagines them in a way that questions reality, rather than reflecting it. His work is contradictory in that the organic forms of his colour field works are achieved by calculated attention to detail and the building up of many layers of paint. Howard has been exhibiting in solo and group exhibitions in Christchurch, Wellington and Auckland since 1978.”

See more of his incredible art here: Parnell Gallery.

The horses do not lower themselves without reason

The horses do not…
lower themselves without reason…
Ask a woman
from Ohio about actual horses
& they will be able to move,
sometimes without their body,
to places that feel like everywhere
now that they’ve been there…

~ Darren Demaree, from “Emily as Every Time I’m Asked to Write a Poem…” in What Are Birds Journal (Issue 1.1)


Notes: Poem: (via Boston Poetry Slam). Photo: Anna Attlid (via See More)

 

Running Away. From the Salt Benediction.

 

We have a bad situation here. (Very)

One needs to take personal accountability. Yet, if I could, I would, find anyone, anything, to blame. 

The digital Nokia scale (Nokia Body Cardio WiFi Smart Scale in Black) was a Christmas gift from the kids last year. The gift wasn’t a subliminal message, but a blow with a blunt instrument. They see it, I can’t hide it. Man boobs. Pooch maturing to hang belly. And everything else, sliding, down, down, down.

So, for the next ~320 days, the morning ritual is the same. Step on the scale. Step off the scale. The Scale wirelessly sends the data to the iPhone app. The app fires off a notification:

“New weight measurement available.  Stepping on the scale every morning and opening Health Mate regularly will help you stay on track.” 

Right. Right.

Tuesday:

Nokia alert: “Good job. Your weight is up only 0.3 lbs from the day before.” Monday. Box of chocolates from colleague as a holiday gift along with a thank you note. A constant beckoning presence on my desk, a siren call. I put the conference call on mute. Pop a chocolate covered caramel in my mouth. Close my eyes. Let that blessing melt down my throat. Continue reading “Running Away. From the Salt Benediction.”

Saturday Morning


Photo: Shutterstock via Newthom

Increasing awfulness from rock-bottom bad

I’d brought my computer, but maybe I could actually just not turn it on, and the dreary growth of little obligations that overran my screen would just disappear; maybe the news, which—like a magic substance in a fairy tale—was producing perpetually increasing awfulness from rock-bottom bad, would just disappear.

~ Deborah Eisenberg, Your Duck is My Duck: Stories (Ecco, September 25, 2018)


Notes: