Sunday, August 9, 2015. The Great Rotation, 5. Look out onto the consuming chaos. Achilles standing there in time. Staring back at his namesake. Language could turn all this. Within and extending out,. Yes, he made it back. Alive, to these mysteries,. The rising and setting sun.

Sunday, June 22, 2008. The coat and hat,. Zig zagged red woven belt,. A life, compared only. The mountains, clouds and valley,. Gray of winter, accompanied. Lines of Nevada desert,. Unfolding, on this thorny carpet,. Farther off, there, pointing-. Softer in the distance, then. Wasted in dust and scraggled afoot. And one more ridge- winding.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008. He was driving down, now. That weakened blue, it was early spring. This industrial northern clime,. The increasing suburban mall, mania. Remembering, his first glimpses,. Flooded banks, the Yellow Breeches Creek,. Strewn, bottles of strange color, bound. In loops of film, hanging. From flood fallen trees,.

Monday, July 7, 2008. Paumanok is the 1st part of. Here it is presented as a separate entity. Paumanok, was the Indian. 8220;had been a happy time. Cottage, a home, far from city rigor,. Through varied weather, the waves. Coming home, from the beach to paint. Waiting for the afternoon shadows lengthening-. Big, vacation like clams, in the pond. Just across the road,.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008. Clouds, leaves, waves. The lagoon at night opens. Upon the beach and stars. A storm across the point. Jovan drums a rhythm as. Displaced fumes of oil flow. Cormorants shiver in glimmering light. Black rocks, hissing waves,. Long grey clouds, reflect greenness. To breathe at the surface. Figures fly, torsos of light.

Thursday, December 11, 2008. Paumanok, was the Indian. 8220;had been a happy time. Cottage, a home, far from city rigor,. Through varied weather, the waves. Coming home, from the beach to paint. Waiting for the afternoon shadows lengthening-. Big, vacation like clams, in the pond. Just across the road,. What one would wish for,.

Friday, October 4, 2013. A vine circling over Paumanok island. The minotaur carting the relics. In air, through season. Shading into night- sea drift.

Friday, July 25, 2008. Back 2 the StudiO 2005-06. A Thought, high up. Through the Waves, bounding. The something that happens,. Down there, in and Amongst-. Spiraling up to Classic,. That thing, he had in mind,. In spaces and- spinning, the weavings. A World, at ONcE! What this Pirate was trying to say. Was, one- conceived of.

Friday, July 25, 2008. As though we dreamed it. I was watching over his shoulder,. Listening as he whistled dryly through pursed lips. Squinting through wire rim glasses,. Exactly what they meant,. He was up there in the shaded studio. The blaring opera and fanned out brushes. The model on the couch, arched her back. Painting seemingly with no mind,. Painting after painting, piling up.

Thursday, September 4, 2008. Excerpted from Road Movie 2000. What a surprise, not what I expected,. To winter, I drove back down to Cottonwood Oasis. South a bit, to see if there was a temperature change. It was still really cold, clouds obscuring the sun. I was impatient to get out the paints,. Nature is all change,. And the snow was gone by afternoon. The evidence gone, of what I saw, what.