What the Heck is This Words | Pictures Thing?
It’s a blog. Beyond that, no promises as to what exactly it will be.
I’m a creative writer and picture taker since the age of having hair and braces. Now, I focus mostly on nature and our fraught place in it. Rather than morning pages or journalling, which are productive habits for many writers, I like to walk with my camera, see what catches my eye, and snap the image. And pretty soon I’m lost in the cadence of walking and looking, and then a line or a fragment comes from the ether. I’ve learned to follow. The line might be part of a novel I’m working on. It might be short and unto itself. Whichever it is, this routine is the one dependable thing that awakens my muse and sets me to my writing for the day, and I hope it brings a moment of reflection or inspiration to yours.
I call some of what I’ll do here, these short pieces, One Thing, but they are really two; a picture paired with short prose. The subject could be anything. Like poems or stray thoughts but inspired by the photography. Rather than talk about process, I’d rather just do it. And I’ll share other creative work, both brief and long. A story, a poem, an essay. Whatever these posts are, their intent is to both sharpen my blade and hopefully carve out some quiet space for you in the middle of our chaotic days.
Rising Through the Fallen
The late autumn air
has cooled in quadrants
of forties and thirties.
The prairie trail is
hollowed, a seawall of
brown stalks taller than
the average man.
Companions
This is the divide in the trail
where we go our separate ways
you into memory fully sprinting
coat shining chasing who knows what
into who knows where
and me still walking
into tomorrow where the leaves fall
and cover with snow
More Dog Walking
My dog rolls in dung on the trail. I shouldn't mince words, I think it was dog shit.
Then he ate it.
Long Island Johnny at the Tiki Bar, 2020
Cold December Florida dusk. Hardly anyone there.
Hardly anyone is me and you and a few others
together alone in the pandemic air.
Creativity After 50
In my head there should be a factory
Unfortunately it may be closing
It’s more like a dying pet store
animals abandoned
shelled seeds strewn on cage floors
birds flutter around the bars
searching to fly free
peck for seeds but live on
stray chaff
October Storm
…Ollie the dog was leaping
at the sliding door. Opened
the cold air
rushed in
and he rushed out
bounding into the yard
barking at nothing
I could see except
the white grass…
