Twilight - MyFun and YouTube

Tonight at midnight, I should be ready to begin Nanowrimo. No plot. No thoughts. I got sidetracked with embedding video clips and learned more than I ever wanted to know.

There's a ton of good stuff out there (on Bushism's Internets), there's a ton of bad and some of it is actually despicable. Risque business, they say.

My first video, posted on my Art Blog was so much fun to do, I wondered about another and this was what I came up with at first light.

I may get better. I may not. My Fun.

October

deep in the aspen glade
speckled shadows fall

a thousand golden leaves
trill their melody of change

lesser finches churn the chill air
into threnody of summer

shackled to August heat
and passions for the past

I limp across this dying space
fail to bond with season's gap


One of a Kind, Digital Photo by Sue

She

pale as sandpipers' prints
in a wrinkle of infinity
she flies at that easy hour
catches the potbellied moon
rides past a crescent of sand
seaweed laced
with driftwood beads
a blink of stars, a gentle smile
she slides out through the sky
on wings of sparrow sighs



Over the Next Hill, Watercolor by Sue

On the Rocks

Astride the rim
the tartness of lime
mellows juniper
masks its challenge.
Pitted by time
and the bite of coupling,
astraddle your weakness
I dance the edge
for a jug of gin
and a dry twist of lime.



The Scratch of Rocks, Watercolor by Sue

Widow's Walk

No where to turn
in the canyon narrows
fallen straws
coat the shade
cloak the ashes of sage,
uncured by crushed leaves
from black-green creosote,
ocotillo's red nectar
doesn't sweeten
the bone of chaos
that simmers in the echoes
of cracking camel backs.
The urn grows weighty.



Walk of Rocks, watercolor by Sue Turner

Teleportation and Invisibility

With no desire to do the dusty pioneer thing, my bent has always leaned toward the future of self-mowing lawns, clothing not needing the rub of a heated iron and one item for which I did live long enough -- iRobot Roomba which does a housekeeper-clean job of vacuuming carpet and vinyl. Dirt Dog is now available to whip my garage and patio into a tidy shine and the robotic lawnmower is coming soon.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not lazy but it seems a waste of brain function to spend billions of cells and dollars blowing up people and structures in a losing war while skipping mind stretching and creative endeavors.

My mother and I used to design self-cleaning homes that would leave us free to pursue higher callings and, two decades after her passing, some of the very appliances we fashioned in conversation now appear on this side of the Pond.

Today, Danish researchers announced the teleportation of information from light to matter. Impressive. Last month, the mantle of invisibility was broached and appears to be a doable exercise for the near future.

Imagine the problematical. Invisible bank robbers. Imagine the positive. Teleporting corrupt politicians and other criminals to a distant island.

I'm taking large quantities of vitamins and finger crossings in order to hang around for the merger of sci-fi and reality.

Crest of Chaos

Memory escapes
dry stems of rosemary

sap-green stains a shallow
dropped into the trough

corrupt tallies ride the wave
song of Oz spins out a day

on a skinny lanyard of fate
minnows bait a feeding frenzy

somewhere east of chaos
across a rocky reef

sun lays the sea to rest
pours calm upon the bay.



Chaos was created in Apophysis and framed in Digital Image Suite.