Tuesday, July 31, 2012

evening ride

i was wrong. today is not the day for the noble pursuit ride to be posted.
there simply wasn't enough time to put it together properly.
soon it will be here. for now though.
my evening ride on july 30. 2012.


from the very tiny jewel that settled near my bike when i stopped to rest

to the very large jewel that flowed beside me as i rode home

this was an evening ride i treasured 
even as i was riding inside it.

Monday, July 30, 2012

early in the morning

early in the morning my town is a sleepy place that is still waiting quietly for the day to begin and what that looks like and sounds like and feels like is people moving around and cars and trucks and buses and especially bicycles and electric motor scooters whizzing past. it sounds like people talking about sometimes serious and sometimes not at all important to me matters that are everything to those voicing them loudly enough for everyone else to temporarily become a feature of their lives. it looks like boys - always boys - on skateboards making their way up the sidewalk and hoping that the police don't ticket them 'cause they haven't got a cent to their name 'cause it's all in the skateboard, the sweet kicks, and the tender t they're wearing . . . but for now it's super quiet and empty and i'm riding downtown for the big "noble pursuit" race . . . . more about THAT tomorrow . . .

Sunday, July 29, 2012

the noble pursuit

today i am riding this between 8:30 a.m. and 4:00 p.m. . . . 150 kms of cycling through the area around peterborough . . . i am one member of a team of six riders . . . it's called a "team pursuit" . . . i think that there are nine other teams . . . . maps are distributed at the last minute and then we are sent out at intervals of fifteen minutes . . . i should burn 5,000 calories - i'm carrying 1200 calories of food with me . . . the intake deficit will be addressed by the compensatory consumption of beer at the end . . . wish me luck!!!!

Saturday, July 28, 2012


a busy and peaceful saturday of visiting the bicycle shop, the pastry shop for an americano and a home made granola bar, a friend's house to teach his little daughter how to plant seeds (!) and of course some biking.

Friday, July 27, 2012

somewhere east

i love to ride with my friends! here i am with andrea and kara 
somewhere east of peterborough on a warm summer night.

thanks to kris seiber for the image

Thursday, July 26, 2012

the unexpected

this sky appeared magically and majestically on the forefront of a fifteen minute rainstorm.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

what i was born for


every day
i see or hear
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
it was what I was born for--
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world--
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
nor am i talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant--
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
oh, good scholar,
i say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these--
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

mary oliver

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

i look upon everything

and therefore i look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and i look upon time as no more than an idea,
and i consider eternity as another possibility,

and i think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
ending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

mary oliver

Monday, July 23, 2012

no further consolation

he awoke, 
opened his eyes. 

the room meant very little to him; 
he was too deeply immersed in the non-being from which he had just come. 
if he had not the energy to ascertain his position in time and space, he also lacked the desire. 

he was somewhere, 
he had come back through vast regions from nowhere; 

there was the certitude of an infinite sadness at the core of his consciousness, 
but the sadness was reassuring, 
because it alone was familiar. 
he needed no further consolation. 

in utter comfort, utter relaxation he lay absolutely still for a while, 
and then sank back into one of the light momentary sleeps that occur after a long, profound one.    

paul bowles    
excerpted from   the sheltering sky

Sunday, July 22, 2012


"any information which is common, after several repetitions, you cease to hear. 

you reject the common information, rather like if you gaze at something for a long time, 
you'll cease to really see it. 

you'll see any aspect of it that's changing, but the static elements you won't see."

 brian eno

Saturday, July 21, 2012

simply be

let the beauty
that is you
simply be

Friday, July 20, 2012

the difficult work of love

" the claims that the difficult work of love makes upon our development are greater than life ....:

rainer maria rilke
letters to a young poet

Thursday, July 19, 2012

time becomes locked in the grain

"works of art are of an infinite solitude . . . only love can touch and hold them and be fair to them."

rainer maria rilke
"letters to a young poet"

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

the unsayable

"things aren't all so tangible and sayable as people would have us believe; most experiences are
  unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered ..."

rainer maria rilke 
letters to a young poet

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

the longing

a star
a tree
and the longing in between

Monday, July 16, 2012

like a star

i see thee glittering from afar-- 
and then thou art a pretty star; 
not quite so fair as many are 
in heaven above thee! 
yet like a star, with glittering crest, 
self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest;

william wordsworth

Sunday, July 15, 2012

what am i?

i ride by
and see
the lines-

the horizontals
the verticals

the colours - 
the shades and hues

and i wonder

what am i to all of this?
what am i at all?

Saturday, July 14, 2012

sighs and murmurs

today the summer has come at my window with
its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their
minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove.

rabindranath tagore

Friday, July 13, 2012

lift up your faces

lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
for this bright morning dawning for you

words excerpted from 
maya angelou

Thursday, July 12, 2012

through the wires

soft signals . . . 

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

a flower's body

when i see the order
in a flower's body
amidst the chaos 
of a garden

i suddenly feel better
so much else!

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

and i do

there's little 
to nothing
to suggest
anything special
is going on here
unless you choose
to see this that way

and i do

Monday, July 9, 2012

my idle dreams

my idle dreams roam far,
to the southern land where spring is fragrant.
wind and strings play on a boat on the river's clear surface,
the city is full of catkins flying like light dust.
people are occupied admiring the flowers.
my idle dreams roam far,
to the southern land where autumn is clear.
for a thousand li over rivers and hills cold colours stretch far,
deep in flowering reeds, a solitary boat is moored.
beneath the bright moon, a flute plays in the tower.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

older now

looking out
through the window of life
i see that
both the real and the metaphoric
rivers and streams
all connect 
in a purposeful way

and yet why is it 
that it's only
now that i'm very much older
than i might wish to be
that i begin to see
for what it is 
and for what it isn't

Saturday, July 7, 2012

the house was quiet

the house was quiet and the world was calm.
the reader became the book; and summer night

was like the conscious being of the book.
the house was quiet and the world was calm.

the words were spoken as if there was no book,
except that the reader leaned above the page,

wanted to lean, wanted much to be
the scholar to whom his book is true, to whom

the summer night is like a perfection of thought.
the house was quiet because it had to be.

the quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
the access of perfection to the page.

and the world was calm. the truth in a calm world,
in which there is no other meaning, itself

is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
is the reader leaning late and reading there. 

wallace stevens

Friday, July 6, 2012

one and the same

the one
becomes the other
they were never apart

they were
and the same

Thursday, July 5, 2012


she bowed before the rain 

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

i am grateful

i am grateful for

real silence      an unlikely companion     gifts without condition

and for the understanding of just how very simple
how very kind
how very loving
life is intended to be

Tuesday, July 3, 2012


i learned early on
to shy away from
"the darkside" 
"the underside"
"the other side"

"trust the inside" and
let it be one
with my "outside"
let my inner light
shine through the translucent skin
of my 

and all the while
like any light
i cast a shadow
and the shadow is attached
and touchable
and real
and darkens gently
and brightly lit 

even softens them!

and i have learned
over time
to love my shadow as being
as much of myself
as my body
my mind
my heart

because really
there are no sides
no edges
no othernesses of any kind
just one self

one wholeness

Monday, July 2, 2012


think of london, a small city
it's dark, dark in the daytime
the people sleep, sleep in the daytime
if they want to, if they want to

i'm checking them out
i'm checking them out
i got it figured out
i got it figured out
there's good points and bad points
find a city
find myself a city to live in.

there are a lot of rich people in birmingham
a lot of ghosts in a lot of houses
look over there!... a dry ice factory
a good place to get some thinking done

i'm checking them out
i'm checking them out
i got it figured out
i got it figured out
there's good points and bad points
find a city
find myself a city to live in.

down el paso way things get pretty spread out
people got no idea where in the world they are
they go up north and come back south
still got no idea where in the world they are.
did i forget to mention, to mention memphis
home of elvis and the ancient greeks
do i smell? i smell home cooking
it's only the river, it's only the river.

lyrics     talking heads (fear of music 1979)

Sunday, July 1, 2012

when it flowed

every object in this image 
was at some point 
in its becoming


and then 
through the necessity
of refinement

in solid form

so as
to be able
to contain
solid forms

and i believe
that each molecule
each atom

when it flowed