Saturday, October 15, 2016

Don Domanski

I was going to take mum out but she is cooking and won't go today. Tomorrow is another day. I will read Don Domanski instead.

The slippers of snow are falling off the feet of the fir in front of me. There is no sun apparent but the warmth of the day is encouraging. I took the impatiens that were stuck in the shed (the barn) and put them in the garage so I don't forget to water them. They are safe but unhappy.  I can't bring them in as yet as I am tending to other patients inside the house who are all frost bitten.

After this morning's walk I puttered around avoiding the chicken carcass in the fridge. I will just leave the two halves of the chicken to roast when I am feeling like my brain can handle roasting chicken.

In between reading Don Domanski I am looking at paintings on Facebook. It's very pretty to see the finished works and think that I might be able to make some stuff like this in about twenty years of working with pencils.

Andrea Kowch
 added a new photo to the album:Paintings.
"In Silence Known"
30" x 24"
acrylic on canvas
See it on view for the first time, tonight, at the 2014 ArtHamptons International Fine Art Fair, Richard J. Demato Fine Arts Gallery Booth #207.
...See More

As I am not ambitious about any project things drag on forever. It's better to have a deadline and finish stuff but there you go.

I have been reading this book by Don Domanski for ages. I finished it years ago but I am rereading it.  I like his poetry because it is fragmentary and illusionary. It's all about going through the woods and seeing something out of the corner of your eye that is quickly vanishing.   I am reading his book "BITE DOWN LITTLE WHISPER".

everything vanishes
but poetry is here

to notice the
darting tongue of time

as it licks
the body of the land

here is the fir tree
garlanded in snow

and here is the donkey of the wind
braying at the glow

and here is life
your life that is travelling

to some distant point
you know not where

and what will you do to reassure yourself
that you are using this time well?

take up the poet
who has made language in his image

and turned it inside out
to say the ephemeral  and the code

beneath the tongue
that licks the land

that code
that I can't yet decipher

but I am working
on it

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