my small tribute to brassai does not seem complete without a tribute to his good friend henry miller…
the cool air of the night has me hungry for the inviting warmth of your skin, the yielding curve of your thigh. desperate to feel to difference in heat, for some friction to light the fire, spark, smolder, flame, inferno.
YES YES YES
making a splash, an impact. a whole lot of our energy is spent trying to do exactly this, to leave a legacy in some way.
when we make a splash do we ever stop to consider what we have displaced?
perhaps it would be gentlemanly to behave like a competitive diver.
in a reflection the thing that you are looking is inseparable from the conduit of reflection. one only need to consider a hall of mirrors to see that this is the case.
people who live in rural areas treat whole regions like a metropolis dweller would their city. each small town or city is like a different suburb. there are rich towns and poor towns, towns with gang and drug issues and those that are community minded and protective of their own.
townsfolk will travel from one speck on the map to another for all manner of entertainment and shopping.
if you are ever considering a move from a big city to somewhere significantly smaller consider this: what you lose in population you more than make up for in territorial range.
whoooop whoooop whooooop
the wings of a kereru beat heavy through the air, his body laden with berries which he has all to himself since the moa no longer wanders though the bush.
could this be..
maui tiki-tiki a taranga was known to disguise himself in the cloak of this bird, perhaps he has come to welcome me to ride on the back of his fish.