Inferno
Six breaths a minute — I’m an old locomotive in a cold dark wood — I see covered faces — snow on blood ~ [ 2066 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Breath’
Homecoming
Of all the pleasures, of all the joyful sensations, of all that’s charged with balance and meaning, first and foremost is one’s own breath. All others radiate from this single, central, indispensable gift. When we forget this, and are in the habit of taking our breath for granted, we’re more likely to be hasty and fretful, and to fall out of step with life’s natural pace and rhythm. To notice […]
Peace, Flight, Breath
We make our music, and play our way to dusk; when the mists gather, we seek the warm glow of the hearth. Late at night, one by one, the coals close their eyes. The train flies west. We hear it through our open window. No sleep. Only peace, flight, breath. Grandpa said he’d be right back. He was talking about the sun, I guess. ~ [ 2004 ]
A Lifetime and Two Minutes
I love this drawing, and its gentle simplicity. But I love what I said about drawing every bit as much, because it’s such an apt description of how I feel about art. The figure itself took a lifetime and about two minutes to make; or, to put it another way, it all happened in a breath. ~ [ 1980 ]
I Do Not Know
As noted then in these pages, my brother, Kirk, died two years ago today — an interval which seems much more like one expansive, all-encompassing breath. I see, meanwhile, that it’s been almost a month since I last wrote. During that time, I’ve felt neither the urge nor the need. And I don’t feel it now. What I do feel is the arrival of spring. Why, then, am I writing? […]
Not Even Sparrow
Childish notes — some things never change. And some things, are not things, at all. Summer in the vineyard, a small boy sitting under a vine, hidden by all the other vines. Thinking of it still, of the stillness, still that still, nigh sixty-eight years old, in full. One breath in all — one moment, one grand revelation, one sensation, of being. Alive, blue jeans to the ground, the same […]
Old Black Road
Mighty kingdoms come and go, falling leaves on the old black road. And it’s an easy breath, through the stars, past the clothesline, and over the tracks, Into the closed mind, and into the sad heart, of humanity. An easy breath — yes, and a mad spark, of sanity. . Read the sixty-fourth chapter of Middlemarch. October 21, 2023. . [ 1904 ]
Maple Time and Eternal Breath
Another farm trip, another apple variety: Rosalee, by way of Honeycrisp and Fuji. Read the sixty-third chapter of Middlemarch. Added two photographs, Maple Time and Eternal Breath, taken yesterday at Silver Falls State Park, to the bottom of these pages. October 20, 2023. . [ 1903 ]
Then Again
On his death bed the old man said, Whatever it is, whatever you do, whatever you love, whatever you feel, don’t make it a religion. Then, nearing his last breath, he raised his hand a little and whispered, Unless . . . . [ 1776 ]
Garden Song
I found myself at shovel’s depth, sweet loam above and more below than I could imagine; first my knees, then my hands — I’d never felt such welcome; my face, my breath — I no longer cared to stand, let my limbs sink in as a favorite story might begin; and when I reached the end, I awoke to death, and pulled the shovel out again. . [ 1757 ]
William Michaelian 