Stone #26

One rich, round, ripe Sardinian olive. Green, stuffed with pimento, steeped and plucked from a pot of salt, garlic and oil. Redolent.

Stone #25

sky, a grey wall of light against which trees are sculpted, fills, halftone, chiaroscuro, then the crumbling darkness

Stone #24

snow gloss white Carrara marble word waves in vein fizzures quarry cracks flattened snowdrop the deadly chiselled delusions bootstomp

or

snow gloss  white  Carrara marble  word waves  in vein fizzures  quarry cracks  flattened snowdrop  the deadly chiselled delusions  bootstomp

or

snow gloss
          white
       Carrara marble

              word waves
       in vein fizzures
         quarry cracks

         flattened snowdrops

   the deadly chiselled delusions
bootstomp

bootstomp

(a shiny field of iced snow)

Stone #23

To lie down, pull the sheaves of powdered words over me, a bleached sheet of snow in the sun.

Stone #22

Snow the quality of white weightless rocksalt falls. The ground silts with sifted snow, around the strewn rocksalt are meltspots.

Stone #21

With a wind chill of -21^°c, I think the Westerly wind is angry and howling cold words against our cheeks, our bodies.

Stone #20

A path of fallen, frozen red Maple leaves slowly slides and eddies before me like a stellar star cluster, while I remain still.

Stone #19

Like a La Scala, the old one in Milan, I spend a sleepless night reviewing repertoires, operas, songs, stories, but it's inconclusive.

-
A River
of Stones

Stone #18

the thickest boughs, heavy with Titanium white spread with a fat brush - no paint falling out of the sky at the moment

Stone #17: The Sun Falls Before Dark

'The Sun Falls Before Dark,' 17.8cmx 23.9cm, 7" x 9", India ink, pencil, archival paper.

...the sun falls before dark,
folds of grace.

(written in the bridge: 'walls, walls, walls, indecision, indecision'; in back of bridge, 'dirt, dirt'; on the grass, 'grass, grass.' etc.)


'The Sun Falls Before Dark,' the barebones sketch, 17.8cmx 23.9cm, 7" x 9", archival ink, archival paper.

I drew it in near-dark without proper reading glasses with a Micron 05 pen that I've not used before. (The finished one up top was drawn in with India ink, and coloured with Castelli-Faber watercolour pencils.)

Who are they? what is happening?

Stone #16

The train slices the Wedgewood blue and white,
a metal icicle.

Blowing snow dust glitters,
ghosts sweeping the windows.

Stone #15

My wandering thoughts crumble in the reflections of a mirror placed between the snow landscape and white sky.

-
A River
of Stones

Stone #14

At night I turn off the heat, crawl under a heated blanket. The room air is grey at dawn, the cat, dog and I, shivering, cold, a power failure.

-
A River
of Stones

Stone #13

...the wind whispers ice, waves of snow blow, a few streaks of fragile light. These old lovers, a poetics of winter.

-
A River
of Stones

Stone #12

the chunks of snow that fly off needles, like bits of coconut meat flying from whitened fir trees in a northern oasis

-
A River
of Stones

Stone #11

scooped white dragon fruit, grated and tossed, swirling the night wind, and the black seeds, invisible, smacking my face, coat, hands

_
A River
of Stones

                                          

Stone #10

the green wing of an angel, olive lines cross-hatching into branches, the slush of salted sidewalks

_



[the image came first]

A River
of Stones

                                          

Stone #9

...it was a dawn of phosphorescent algae, coming in from the ocean, drifting overland,


a green sun
hung in icicles.

_

[I wrote the image early morning, and late at night, during a frigid -16C wind chill dog walk, took this photo with my iPhone - it's photoshopped, and I'll show the original in another post- but how strange... is floating green phosphorescence a presence... in my images, and photos...? I do like how the photo turned out but couldn't tell you what I did to create it in the shades you see here.]

A River
of Stones