ships

I've lost people.
waking to find them a memory.

will I watch them all go
or will I become lost in them?

my heart aches at the thought,
but I know it comes.

it is not important to pass everyday,
but to have a day with them.

to see them
and feel them
to give and take of them.

they may not come back
or stay
so always love the worst of them.

good is easy
good is given.

I will miss their perfect darkness
or they will miss mine.

to always meet them clear
and tender
is to honor their fragile beauty

in gratitude of this strange, sinking gift.

Do you know what I mean?

play. repeat.

caribou 

swim

four tet 

there is love in you

play. repeat.

hardcore pollination

 
Artist Opens First Plant Porn Theater

Cover your Iris!

exhale

Early morning. Late breakfast. First snatch of free time in three weeks and the sun is actually shining! I'm celebrating with Darjeeling and Rose bud tea, plus a spot of honey from my friend's hive.

Elvira surprised me with a sweet and much needed "cheer up!" gift of eight eggs from her fancy new chickens.  I made an omelette with English white cheddar, Lacinato Kale, and plenty of cracked black pepper, atop sprouted grain toast with Marionberry maple syrup glazed soysage.

Perfect medicine for my Saturday morning blues and ample fuel for a spring walk to the nearby hospital, where my dear friend awaits kisses and back rubs.

The Gypsy

Who my father was, what country I'm from,
In vain the people ask me
The first never existed and my home...
The earth that gives me fruits and flowers.

Wherever destiny leads me,
I find a smile, I find a love.
Why should I worry about thoughts of the past
When the hours of the present are glad to my heart?

It's true that tomorrow could cast a turbid veil over
The serene breezes waiting for me.
But if today, my skies are all blue,
Why should I worry about things that may not happen?

I am a plant, never frozen or bare,
That defies even the harshest winter.
If a leaf falls here, another will grow in it's place.
In every season I am full of flowers!

S.M. Maggioni

on a tuesday

Homemade shallot bechamel, vermouth cocktails, and salted caramels.
The Magnetic Fields (180 g), ladies' figure skating, and kisses in the kitchen.
All I need now is a puppy.......or a Maine Coon.

Okay, both?

Steven's Bombay Two
Pernod Rinse
Germain-Robin Brandy
Dolin French Dry Vermouth
Antica Formula Italian Sweet Vermouth
Cointreau

shaken and strained
with an Orange Twist

mmm...

phoenixing

 

Perched on the windowsill

Breasts pinched and cradled by bent elbows

Skull blossom, palm sepals

I am home from work

and boundless

Slow stretching clouds glide like heavy ships

Over a shadowed city that will soon turn green and furry

A song plays

Its sweet melody reminds me that I should write a letter   

But the sun is sleepy and me too

Pink-cheeked

I nestle into the open frame of infinite blustery azure

Yellow hair flits like flames and golden feathers

Teases baby fluff on spotted skin

Sinking sunlight penetrates my mind and splits

Big blue fills me

Vibrating and buoyant

Walls and glass melt beneath

My body suspended in dewy sky

Moist and glowy

Ships break apart

Gently fading in the slow burning hour

Fine gossamer rafts somehow hold my weight

Crystals cling to softness

Push through pauses

Expand space

Hexagons and emptiness

Inside me

The little potted saxifrage

Wind battered and bowed

Kisses my arm

Tiny red lips

Wide-eyed and teetering

Out of the blue

I am in my apartment

Reeling my hooked spine in from the ledge

Flowers in hand

Dream drunk

and humming

I don't need guitar lessons

just twigs.

god's little cows

My apartment is infested...

with ladybugs.

Huddled in the corner of my window, perched on glass, their little bodies create red constellations against the sunset's low burning glow.

Folklore throughout time and place says that Ladybugs are lucky charms. They ride to earth on bolts of lightning and fly away with your worries. A visit from them forecasts bountiful crops, pockets full of gold, and true love.

Lucky me!

fruits (bark, leaves, roots) of my labor

Columbines School of Botanical Studies
First Year Apprenticeship Field Program
2009 harvest

medicinals
tinctures, syrup, salve, vinegar, topical astringent, pretty bundles,
dream bundles, smudges, rootlet chews, infused oils, pastilles

Berberis nervosa
Ceanothus velutinus
Hypericum perforatum
Hypericum formosum
Heracleum lanatum
Ligusticum grayi
Arctostaphylos nevadensis
Chimaphila umbellata
Pedicularis groenlandica
Pedicularis racemosa
Valeriana sitchensis
Salix sp.
Achillea millefolium
Anaphalis margaritacea
Artemisia douglasiana
Arnica mollis


Xerophyllum tenax and the snow-capped Sisters

edibles/spices/wild deliciousness

Dodecatheon jeffreyi
Xerophyllum tenax
Achlys triphylla
Oxalis oregana
Mimulus spp.
Montia spp.
Osmorhiza chilensis
Viola spp.
Amelanchier alnifolia
Cornus canadensis
Ribes spp.
Rubus spectabilis
Rubus parviflorus
Vaccinium spp.
Asarum caudatum
Angelica genuflexa
Ligusticum grayi
Berberis nervosa
Acer macrophyllum
many others...
and my favorite - Fragaria vesca!



Warm days are fading fast. The world around me is becoming a deciduous reef of color. I've got spring and summer bottled up for the slow rolling winter months that will rock us gently in stony bare limbs. Will wrap us up tight in pearly white snow.

sugarplums

Woodslore and Roadkill Serenades

Tell me a story.
Sing me a song.

Boystown

Cloudbusting

meadow locating

she ran against the snaking flow. its deafening bubble begged her to follow. heavy, silver sheets slipped away like silk on bone.

the rolling growl of the creek's swagger lured her to a wet opening.

Flame-bellied newts stretched under arum blooms, aglow with heat. Frog choruses were not shy. their bouncing crescendos echoed and set far away fires. the mosquitoes penetrated her hot pink skin. hidden. gorging.

she found shade under pretty words.

berry blood squished between pearly teeth. sun sweet and furry. with stained fingers, she counted the flowers at her feet. violets. buttercups. snapdragons. fluttering galaxies that twinkled in a green universe.

she swallowed the shooting stars.

in bloom

The smoky winter sky snuggled me like a cozy blanket for months. Rain patter lulled me to sleep and woke me gently at sunrise. Cold breezes bribed me with scarves and snow boots and bare trees against a brilliant periwinkle glow. Its sleepy beauty tried to coax my loyalty from the sultry summer heat I had known so well. Winter loved me with the smooth touch of a determined lover.



I have been walking for hours today in the burgeoning spring warmth. Sailing the sidewalks on a smile. My freckled skin finally painted by sunlight. I had almost forgotten the piercing awe it inspired in me one year ago. Has it been a whole year already?

I stop often to rest my blistered feet and look up into the trees. Starlings sit still as statues, plump on newly flowered branches...pink...white...yellow. Sun-drenched feathers make them twinkle like clumps of dewy berries. So ripe, I wish I could pluck them one-by-one. The lacy petals twirl to the ground around my feet in dazzling piles, but some cling to my hair like February snowflakes.

I start a wildcrafting apprenticeship next weekend. I first heard about the class last June and have not stopped thinking about it since. I keep catching myself in moments of silly excitement over it, like a child eyeing her giant foil wrapped Easter bunny.

Spring is here and my dormant brain is ready to flower...

Hunting Season

Moss is luminous. Trees and rocks are cloaked in babyfine green. The forest is soggy and dark, but the whole world glows. Like sunlight through a million fringed emeralds.

I went with friends to hunt toothed hedgehogs and winter chanterelles. The anticipation of wild mushroom bruschetta seduced me as I swam through the thick tangle of ferns, lichen, river rock, and fallen old growths.



Licorice fern crunched sweet between my teeth as I combed the dense underbrush. Sedums umbrellaed a lush microforest of mosses, Candy Flower, and dainty Mist Maidens, not yet blooming. Moist and fleshy Cat's Tongue licked from every downed trunk, while the pearled luster of snail shells shimmered in the downy leaf litter.



The crystal snow melt of Brice Creek roared beside me, drowning bird songs and footsteps. American Dippers hopped and bobbed on the sodden bank. Diving below the rushing water to eat dragonfly nymphs from the rocky bottom, the tiny grey birds can see underwater and still their bodies against the unrelenting icy flow.




Magic is all around and I am learning to see.

Wish List

"Each level takes place in a different flower's dream as it sits on the windowsill of a dull city apartment. As the player progresses through the game, the apartment and city gradually become more vibrant and colourful. The player guides a petal through brightly coloured, abstract fields by tilting the motion-sensitive controller, pressing any button on the controller gives a speed boost. The aim is to guide the petal into other flowers in the field, triggering an explosion of colour that spreads through the game world."

pick a

FLOWER

In response

Dearest Taffeta,
This is why I DO smoke weed...