This tree was nearby when I did some more work on my little storage-shed-slash-greenhouse thingy (“studio 3.0”).
Art was feeling a bit better today, and so I felt comfortable walking with the dog and then later working outside a bit. He’s completely past nausea as far as I can tell, but he’s struggling (and staggering) with the dizziness/vertigo, still.
[daily log: walking, 4km; dogwalking, 3km]
Of Mere Being The palm at the end of the mind, Beyond the last thought, rises In the bronze decor, A gold-feathered bird Sings in the palm, without human meaning, Without human feeling, a foreign song. You know then that it is not the reason That makes us happy or unhappy. The bird sings. Its feathers shine. The palm stands on the edge of space. The wind moves slowly in the branches. The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down. - Wallace Stevens (American poet, 1879-1955)
ㅁ Then I had a dream where I was in a prison off in Korea.
– a pseudo-haiku.
