Lives of the Flowers, Part Two

He thought of the bees and what makes them pleased with themselves and their work.  He thought of brides, why dress in white?

He thought cornflower, chickory? Blue blossoms in the grass, the opposite of alas.

He thought that under such a tree, in the deep summer on a late afternoon, even 

the wicked 

bird could find rest.

Lives of the Flowers

He thought he might decide to become lost in the raiment of flowers.

He thought, if I were a flower intent on viewing the field I too would have such a trusting face.

He thought what then shall we accomplish in the castle of starlings?

He thought, why not stand in the lookout tower, and look out over the lake for evidence.  Of a crime, of a god, of the conflagration of gulls, those flicks of gray smudge and white fire. Or why climb.  Why not rest here in the afternoon of crickets and shadow.

Photographs Uncovered, an Artist Discovered

I love the story of these photographs coming to light, and the images themselves are as good as anything you have seen from the time.

Check out this blog for more about the rediscovery of street photographer Vivian Maier, her compelling images, and the young man who is championing her art.

It Was Just One of Those Six Little Things

I have a new piece up at Bard Cole's Six Little Things. I am pretty sure it had it's start as a notebook entry I wrote after seeing the Jeff Wall Photography exhibit at the Art Institute in 2007.  (Note "The Flooded Grave" image. It's Christmas rush around time, and I haven't done a lick of shopping, but I'll post the new Richard Fox poem tomorrow.