Wednesday, April 11, 2018


perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition... james baldwin

Monday, April 9, 2018

where does hope reside.

Poetry is not only dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before. --Audre Lorde

...We speak of the light of reason. I would speak here of the darkness of the world, and the light of———. But I don’t know what to call it. Maybe hope. Maybe faith, but not a shaped faith—only, say, a gesture, or a continuum of gestures. But probably it is closer to hope, that is more active, and far messier than faith must be. Faith, as I imagine it, is tensile, and cool, and has no need of words. Hope, I know, is a fighter and a screamer.    -- Mary Oliver

Sunday, April 1, 2018

(eco)architectural contrasts

The wall of the house is bleeding. Firethorn!
The moon, cracked every which-way, pushes steadily on... Adrienne Rich