2018
Drawing is being born, and the artist is the child,
already on to other things.
Canvas 1,180
[ 17 ]
Everything and Nothing
River Country
We parked in the lot near the immense black walnut tree. Its shade is dense this time of year, the moss on its massive trunk and lower branches still green. We’ve seen it in all seasons. We’ve seen it bare in winter, and in its golden profundity in fall. And it’s clear in its presence that wisdom isn’t something one seeks, because it is here. And only the mind is […]
Joyous, Loud, and Something Else
Coffee on, I was reading near the open front window this morning at a little after four, when a robin started singing, either from the lush volunteer cedar near the walk, or from the roof, or from the tall juniper directly across from the window and behind the dahlias. I couldn’t quite tell, but its voice was so joyous and so loud, all I could do was stop and listen. […]
Footfall
When clearing tight small areas of debris, I use our grandson’s miniature rake. When I walk, I notice that most other yards have no tight small areas, because the machines the owners use to maintain order have destroyed them, or otherwise dictated their absence. The standard result is one uniform yard, whereas, when I work outside, I see multiple yards, I see worlds within worlds, I see light and shade […]
In Season
Strawberries. Blueberries. Blackberries. Cherries. I could spend the next hour experimenting with the order of those four words, to see and hear which looks and sounds best with the color, flavor, and meaning they convey — or the next week, and the next, until berries and cherries give way to melons and peaches. And if I say it’s a listening thing, the falling of water on rocks and the crack […]
Traveler
On the north side of the house, not far from the front door, we have a small shade garden that has come about almost entirely of its own accord. It began with the stump of an old bush, a dripping faucet, and a small sword fern under a nearby rhododendron. The fern, moreover, had long been ignored, a stunted, drought-worthy survivor. At the base of the stump is a small […]
Jung and Easily Freudened
When the all-pervasive scent from the grass seed fields enters the house, it is transformed into a ghost. For instance, if you visit a particular room in search of needle and thread, as soon as you enter you are sure you are not alone, or that someone was there before you and is about to return. I say transformed, but how, and by what? Does it work the magic itself, […]
These were made a year ago today, June 22, 2017.
I have no idea what possessed me, just as I have no idea what possesses me now.
Possessed, in the way a leaf or bubble is possessed by a slowly moving river,
just before it reaches the falls.
Canvas 937
Canvas 938
Canvas 939
[ 3 ]
Three Drawings
Desk, Bench, Zibaldone
For a good long stretch, I had been chipping away at Leopardi’s Zibaldone, a few lines here, a paragraph there, careful not to wrinkle the bible-thin pages. Since it is made to lie flat, I had been keeping the book open here on my mother’s desk. But the time came recently that I needed the space to accommodate more books: a complete six-volume set of Imaginary Conversations by Walter Savage […]
Window Thoughts
One thought I have for this quiet, spare new space is to share on occasion some of what I feel is my best work from Recently Banned Literature. To do that, I will need to sift through nearly 4,000 entries. Another thought is to do the same with my first website, I’m Telling You All I Know, which, when I took it offline in 2011, contained 1,200 pages. My primary […]
William Michaelian 