wait and see

Bergen County / Main Line

Beauty in the everyday.

luminaria

Winter leaf light.

wood house

Visitor

I am dreaming of a house just like this one
but larger and opener to the trees, nighter
than day and higher than noon, and you,
visiting, knocking to get in, hoping for icy
milk or hot tea or whatever it is you like.
For each night is a long drink in a short glass.
A drink of blacksound water, such a rush
and fall of lonesome no form can contain it.
And if it isn't night yet, though I seem to
recall that it is, then it is not for everyone.
Did you receive my invitation? It is not
for everyone. Please come to my house
lit by leaf light. It's like a book with bright


pages filled with flocks and glens and groves
and overlooked by Pan, that seductive satyr
in whom the fish is also cooked. A book that
took too long to read but minutes to unread -
that is - to forget. Strange are the pages
thus. Nothing but the hope of company.
I made too much pie in expectation. I was
hoping to sit with you in a tree house in a
nightgown in a real way. Did you receive
my invitation? Written in haste, before
leaf blinked out, before the idea fully formed.
An idea like a storm cloud that does not spill
or arrive but moves silently in a direction.
Like a dark book in a long life with a vague
hope in a wood house with an open door.

~ Brenda Shaughnessy
Source: Poetry (September 2011)

I'm your: "Here-I-Am"

"Don't waste me, 'cause I won't last long,
and I won't come back, I won't come back - "

~Diane Cluck, I'm Yr Here-I-Am

winter canvas No. 2

Shadow and light on snow.
(Jan 2011)

Soft winter light, through windows left unshuttered, while I drift, asleep, high up in the leafless trees.

walking the High Line

Light plays on grass / river / glass in High Line park

Notes on stained glass installation: Inspired by the Hudson River, The River That Flows Both Ways (Spencer Finch) documents a 700 minute journey on the river in a single day. The title is a translation of Muhheakantuck, the Native American name for the Hudson that refers to the river's natural flow in two directions.

On June 12, 2008, from a tugboat drifting on Manhattan's west side and past the High Line, Finch photographed the river's surface once every minute for 700 minutes. The color of each pane of glass was based on a single pixel point in each photograph and arranged chronologically in the steel mullions of the old train tunnel. Time is translated into a grid, reading from left to right and top to bottom, capturing the varied reflective and translucent conditions of the water's surface.

winter giving way

Salix discolor, a cutting from the Philadelphia Flower Show,
soft blossoms set aglow

"A light exists in Spring, Not present in the year
at any other period, When March is scarcely here."
- Emily Dickinson

light house

This house is pulsing with energy.

winter light No. 1

Winter Light (Swedish: Nattvardsgästerna) ... scenes from a winter wedding

winter solstice

An empty vase on the front porch captures the waning light.

winter canvas No. 1

Shadow and light on plaster.
(Jan 2009)

“And now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.” — Rainer Maria Rilke

capturing light

Capturing the light reflected in an antique mirror at Kw'o:Kw'e:hala. I just happened by, in a moment of time that you now see. Like the mysterious writer of a lovely letter M.

"The principal person in a picture is light." Edouard Manet