Lawrence Ferlinghetti leaves

 Lawrence Ferlinghetti died last night. He had a good long run, a hundred and one years. I'm guessing he outlived almost everyone who from San Francisco's original beat scene. Uncle John turned me on to what was happening in North Beach when I was a kid. I couldn't wait to go there and to Ferlinghetti's bookstore, City Lights, and did eventually when I got old enough. The whole scene was another 'boy's club' of course but the writing and music was good, kicked some walls down. It's still there, by the way, the bookstore, and worth a visit next time you're in SF.

Paris Review obit

Farewell Chick Corea - RIP

Besides being a stellar pianist, jazz composer, keyboardist, bandleader, and occasional percussionist Chick Corea was a truly kind man. Back in the early 80's, one of the darkest, most isolated periods of my life, I wrote him a letter. I have no idea how or why I had his address. I don't even know how I got a stamp or envelope. I was living alone in a trailer in a holler in West Virginia without electricity or running water. I think a friend had played some gigs with him.

Anyway, I wrote him and some time later, a letter showed up in my battered mailbox. He encouraged me to hold on, to trust the path. It made a difference. In all, we exchanged a couple of letters. He invited me to stay in touch, but I didn't.


This is an atypical piece for him but it speaks to me.

He died a couple of days ago at the age of 79. Now, I have no idea what (if anything) happens to an individual after death but . . . thank you for your kindness and best wishes, Chick Corea, where/whatever you are now. 

 

Walking Blues (Robert Johnson). Keb' Mo' | Playing For Change |

Squirrel Appreciation Day

It's that time of year again, so roll out the peanuts and other snacks.

It's Squirrel Appreciation Day.

Amanda Gorman

The Hill We Climb, Amanda Gorma's brilliant poem and presentation was the highlight of the Biden/Harris inauguration, at least for me. And, yes, Biden's and Harris' speeches were perfectly suited to the gravity and and hopefulness of the situation.

And all this happening at the Capital building where, only days before, a radical right-wing mob, activated during the last four years when Republicans controlled all three houses of government, was climbing the Capital walls in an attempt to take over America and replace it with their version of fascism.

Reality check

Time to check the Fact Checkers. It's more important than ever.        

Stand back and look at it. Is it a "whisper" or does back itself up? Ask yourself, who's talking? Find out their sources and methods for determining what is ACTUALLY a "fact". Find out where their money comes from. Find out who agrees with them. Find our which institutions, political pacts, fact checkers, authorities, and public figures agree with them and know who pays THEIR bills.

Ask yourself, who's talking? Find out their sources and methods for determining what is ACTUALLY a "fact". Find out where their money comes from. Find out who agrees with them. Find our which institutions, political pacts, fact checkers, authorities, and public figures agree with them and know who pays THEIR bills.

And if this is all too hard for you, if you accept something as "fact" because it fits what you already think or someone you like tells you it's true then, my friend, you're an easy target for anyone appealing to your fear and anger rather than your reason and strength.

Want to give yourself a chance? Learn to tell the difference between the shit and the ice cream. Know how to check the facts and the fact checkers AND be willing to change your mind when the fact checkers don't check out.

American Exceptionalism

I'm putting this article here from Medium for my future reference and yours if you're interested in seeing America without makeup.

"American Exceptionalism Is Getting You Killed
Indi Samarajiva

America is choking to death on its own mythology. The ‘strongest nation in the world’ cannot defend its own Capitol. The ‘oldest democracy in the world’ is attacking the right to vote. The ‘richest people in history’ are broke and dying in lakhs upon lakhs.

(White) Americans consistently refuse to believe what is happening to them because it’s not supposed to be happening to them. Our democracy cannot be collapsing, it’s so old. The pandemic cannot be out of control, we’re rich. From the crazies of Q-Anon to sober talking heads on TV, everybody agrees, America is exceptional and things cannot be exactly what they are.

The country cannot be corrupt, that’s for Africans. The country cannot have a coup, that’s what we do to South America. The country cannot be collapsing, that’s the ‘third world’. And yet here you are.

American exceptionalism is wrong. Worse than wrong, American exceptionalism is precisely what’s getting you killed.
American Myths

As CLR James said, “a myth that has lost all contact with reality is the direct source of immeasurable confusion, catastrophes and disasters.” That’s precisely where America is today. The myth of American greatness has come completely unmoored from American reality, and disaster has ensued.

The most central myth is that America is a city on the hill, destined for greatness, blessed and best among nations, leader of the free world. Every country has some delusions of grandeur, but no one believes it with the confidence of an American. Because for many years, they’ve been right (as in might makes right). America was the lone superpower for years, with consumer goods and power to rain death anywhere upon the globe. Now a microscopic virus has shown how fragile it all was.

The fact is that the central myth of America — that it is an old, strong, and prosperous democracy — is not true. None of it is true, but the fact that this has become a quasi-religious belief makes it impossible to fix anything without also melting American brains. People would rather die than believe that America sucks. So they’re dying.

Let me unwind these myths as gently as I can (not very gently).

    American democracy was founded by black people just 55 years ago.

Your democracy is shit

American democracy is only 55 years old and it was founded by black people. Modern democracy is one person, one vote, and America only got universal franchise in 1965, after 56 other countries. American democracy isn’t old at all, it’s very young, which explains a lot. The fact that your founders are black people like Rosa Parks and John Lewis, of course, completely short-circuits many American brains.

American democracy is also not very good, built as it is on a centuries old voter suppression system. Literally nobody else waits for hours to vote. In most countries the popular vote winner wins. Nobody waits for two months to seat the President. Your democracy is honestly quite shit, as you may have noticed, because it’s on fire.

    Your security forces are more likely to join white terrorists than to resist them.

Your defenses are weak

Americans are surprised that their Capitol was so easily overrun, but that’s misunderstanding what American ‘defense’ is, and who it is. America’s ‘defensive’ troops are actually ‘offensive’ troops, bombing poor places and torturing Muslims for sport. Starving people in Yemen or endlessly occupying Afghanistan has nothing to do with your freedom and security, as you may notice as you can’t fucking go there.

America is wholly unprepared to defend itself against its greatest threat, which is white America. Your intelligence services merrily drone an ‘Allahu akbar’ from 10,000 miles away but won’t track public Facebook events in their own city. Your security forces are more likely to join white terrorists than to resist them. Your cops and and border police are the same, they’re offensive forces pointed at brown and black people. When it comes to the actual threats America faces, your ‘defenses’ are more likely to turn against you than help.
Image for post
Image for post

    The modern image of America is a car in a bread line, the perverse juxtaposition of seeming prosperity with actual poverty.

Your people are suffering

The general myth of America was that all its sins were OK because it somehow worked and delivered prosperity. This doesn’t work anymore, and it never did for many people. America has worse public health than Ghana, worse infrastructure than China, and a weaker democracy than Malawi. Much poorer countries have better healthcare (like Cuba) and literally no one goes into debt peonage for education like Americans. Nobody imprisons as many people. Nobody has active-shooter drills in schools. Nobody is dying of COVID-19 so bad.

America has also completely divorced its ‘economy’ (ie, rich people’s yacht money) from people’s actual lives. Stock prices go up while people go hungry. The modern image of America is a car in a bread line, the perverse juxtaposition of seeming prosperity with actual poverty. Life is pretty shit, as you may have noticed if you’re alive.
America Is A Country In The World

I say this not to dunk on America (well, a bit) but just to welcome you to the world. We’re all in some shit, aren’t we? In the third world we regularly get printed reports about how much we suck and how we can do better, and a lot of its true. You guys should now take some feedback from us. The central myth of American exceptionalism is that America is not like other countries and is thus not comparable (except maybe to other rich, white people) but that’s not true. America is just another country in the world. We can send consultants. Or just ask the black, indigenous, or ‘illegal’ people in your midst. They get it.

White Americans are not used to examining how you suck, but this dooms you to never getting better. It’s like never going to the doctor because you were in great shape in high school. Uh OK, that’s how you die of gangrene in the modern world. Your nation has literally turned into a Bruce Springsteen song, which is not a good thing.

America has been a failed state in a Gucci belt for years, and now even the belt has fallen off. I’m telling you, the empire has no clothes.
The Mental Collapse

This should actually help you because you could then see your problems, learn about other solutions, and fix them. Rather than looking down on the third world, you could look up to places like Mongolia, and learn. Unfortunately, this just isn’t human nature. People will literally die before swallowing their pride.

Rather than admitting that they voted for a grifter, many Americans have created a whole-ass world where Trump is a hero, secretly fighting Satanic pedophiles, and not, you know, just a grifter. Rather than admitting that America has failed on COVID-19, they’re saying COVID-19 doesn’t exist. This sounds crazy, but it’s one way of resolving the cognitive dissonance of America’s collapsing myths.

Even liberals really struggle with the core fact that America is a just another country in the world. April D. Ryan asks “what makes us different from a third world country & dictatorships?” The answer is nothing, besides hubris. Nothing makes you different. Looking down on these countries just makes you ignorant. April Ryan seems cool, but even she inhabits the same mythology of American exceptionalism.

Pete Buttigieg will say “weapons like the one I carried in Afghanistan have no place on our streets or in our schools — least of all in the hands of white nationalists” ignoring the fact that white nationalists shouldn’t be carrying weapons in Afghanistan either, and that chickens come home to roost. Buttigieg seems like a douche but not evil. Even his brain cannot process that Americans should not be using these weapons on anyone. Even to him, America is an exception.

This idea that exceptionalism is some protective secret sauce (ingredients: blood of Jesus, 11 herbs and spices, OxyContin) is precisely what’s getting you killed. There is no fucking sauce, you’re just another country and you’ve committed the cardinal mistake of smoking your own propaganda. Just look at where you are, look at other people, and try to do better. You’re not better than everybody else. It is this idea that’s made you so much worse.

Again, I’m saying this ‘solution’ like it’s possible, which it is, theoretically. Just not psychologically. People would rather believe that Americans are the victims of their own demise rather than their cause. People will literally believe in a modern Protocols of The Elders of Zion rather than looking at the elites looting in front of their eyes. This stabbed in the back mentality leads, of course, right to Hitler ’32.

So this is where you are. Face down in a ditch, insisting you’re among the stars. The first rule of being in a hole is to stop digging, but half of Americans don’t even believe in holes.

Perhaps you think I’m building to some solution but I’m not. I have no idea where you’re going (your children will have to figure that out) but you’ll never get there without understanding where you came from, and where you are. All I can tell you is this. America is exceptionally fucked."

Come on home

2020 was a hard year and I'm certainly not alone thinking that. What difference does a flip of the calendar mean? Ten miles into the woods, ten miles out so it's the direction you're going that matters. Better make sure you're going in the right direction. Even then, it's a long walk back.

Piano for Wild Macaques in Temple, Lopburi, Thailand

Paul Barton also serenades elephants.

Penultimate day

 So, today is the second to the last day of 2020. I wish I could believe the insanity is over but, as the ole saying goes, Ten miles into the woods, 10 miles out.

Getting to the end  (sound on)

Winter Solstice and the Great Conjunction 2020

In the year 1226, as Genghis Khan strode across the earth, he saw the Great Conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in the night sky, a sublime event which did not occur again for another 397 years. Unfortunately, at that time, poor Galileo couldn't see it because that time the planets were too close to the sun. Today, however, today—794 years after Genghis Khan gazed at this dazzling conjunction of planets—today—during the northern Winter Solstice—Jupiter and Saturn again join to form the Great Conjunction.

On this shortest of days, this longest of nights, this time of re-calibration, endings and new beginnings may we find the peace we seek and the strength we need for the years ahead.

Jupiter - Saturn Great Conjunction
Winter Solstice 2020

Live and let live

Happy Thanksgiving. Celebrate all life, not just your own.

Watchful waiting in the Old Garden

Passed Eleanor do Antiga Jardim and one of her peachicks on the street the other day. She honked at me when I photograph them which is totally understandable. Also saw a black rabbit in a nearby park the other day.  She was also, understandably, suspicious of me, not that I meant her any harm but how could she know that? I'm worried she's there. Probably someone "dumped" her there. It's not a suitable place for a lone rabbit. I need to call the animal shelter. And on a lighter note, I saw one of the peacocks was standing alone on the sidewalk in the sun this morning. Didn't photograph him.

The mysterious "wild" Black Bunny

Doctor Miguel texted last night about 11 PM regarding the results of my recent lung biopsy. It does not appear to be a re-occurrence of the myoepithelial carcinoma so they are recommending watchful waiting. This means, another CT scan in three months and, if that's clear, we'll go to semester scans.
 

Paris bells - London fireworks

A long period of reconstruction lies ahead. Trump tore this nation apart in four years. It will take many more than that to heal it before we can begin moving forward again but, if we stay true to course, we can do it. We have to. The future of life on earth depends on us.

But tonight we celebrate.

All Along the Watchtower

Note to self....

Autumn equinox 2020

My eight-year-old grandson to his mother the other day . . .

Frank's flowers

"Mom, this is all so big. First the Covid, then the fires, and then my friend's house burned down." He proceeded to go into the yard, collect some flowers, and put this little bouquet on his desk."

Our changing world

Irregardless of what you or I may think is the biggest problem facing us today . . . whether it be Covid, or the economy because of Covid, or Trump himself, or Nancy,

Bones in the Desert

or Boris, or Vladimir, or Xi, or Bolsonaro, etc etc. they are not it. And, vile inexcusable and unacceptable as it is, racism is not the biggest issue of the day, or sexism. Nor is abortion, animal rights, free speech, freedom for or from religion, freedom to wear or not wear a mask . . . whatever, whatever . . . cause, right, privilege, power, belief, or hope anyone individually or collectively cherishes . . . with all those things still squarely on the table and more and urgent as ever . . . the greatest, most urgent problem facing America and the world, both human and wild, is our deteriorating climate. 

It's not happening tomorrow. Earth's climate has deteriorated to the point that it has now become its own cause. It threatens all life as we know it, not just the poor, starving, dirty poster-polar bear stranded on a chunk of ice that broke off a melting glacier. Earth's climate is rapidly deteriorating by the day, by the hour, and threatens all life on earth . . . yours, mine, theirs, its . . .  ours . . . because in this we are one.

Our house is on fire and we humans, the cause and only hope, are inside oblivious, arguing about other things as it burns.

Year 17

Corn Moon

Corn Moon is now high in the sky and
Barkie the dog has begun her nightly soliloquy.
First day of September
seventeen years later.

Morning rant

America is infested with fascists, beginning with our corporate overlords and their political wing, the Republican party . . . their media wing, FOX News . . . their army of battle-ready fascist cops protected by standard issue Get Out Of Jail Free cards   . . . their power-hungry colleagues, the racist evangelical churches, the party's foot soldiers, you know, that mob of ignorant motherfuckers worshiping Confederate generals in the name of Christian Jesus, those fucking alt.right vigilantes cheered on by the NRA . . . and the Karens and Kens of every color . . . fascist all. I'm done with all of it, all of it, all of it.

Where is America, shelter for those "yearning to breathe free"? Where is America, the "land of the free, home of the brave"? Fascists aren't free or brave. They are maggots fat on hate who scoff at facts and science, who think because their skin is "white" they are superior, or because there's a dick and balls hanging between their legs they're superior, or because they make a show of worshiping the white-skin version of brown-skin Jesus of Nazareth it's ok to betray their own ethnicity for a ride on the gravy-train. They're maggots thinking money and connections will forever keep them immune to the chaos they have created.

I'm done with the billion and trillionaire elites who hide in the ivory towers of their corporations then shove their US Supreme Court approved Corporate Personhoods into the world to do their dirty work. Corporate Persons . . . legal entities . . . created to absorb the consequences of criminal corporate activity, thus insuring the human power players remain above and beyond the law. I'm am so fucking done with them all.

The ultra-rich have turned America into a tax haven for anyone with enough cash and credit to buy-in. They are the ones who pay to change the law to fit their business plans and are draining the planet of its resources, destroying the beauty, poisoning the air, poisoning the water, poisoning the oceans, rivers, springs, lakes, wells, clouds . . . poisoning and eliminating top soil. They are destroying the very climate upon which life as we know it depends.

I am so done with the Republican Party and its president, Trump Corp, and all their climate change backers who live above the law in their corporate structures, skyscraper hideouts, island retreats, insider enclaves, underground palaces, international tax havens and whatever other fantasy worlds they have created to escape the consequences of their arrogance and greed.

There is, however, a footnote to all this.

Where do we go from here? It's chilling how successful the alt.right has been at brainwashing the unaware with their lies and loathing. I pity their obedient, hapless supporters who embrace wage slavery for themselves and their poorly educated children. I feel sad for everyone in America and around the world waiting for their fascist overlords to give a shit about them. They never did and they never will. 

It's heartbreaking realizing that collectively we humans have triggered a mass extinction on the planet, that all species on earth are being sucked into the environmental collapse with us. It's surreal looking through the web of lies America is suffocating in because . . . no matter what . . . no matter who or where we are . . . no matter what we think, feel, or believe . . . we are all in this together.


###

Ok. Sometime I just have so yell into the void. Rant over. I've included an antidote to all this poison below . . .

The Polite Press

 

Don Winslow, @donwinslow, just posted this video on Twitter. It's agonizingly years behind necessity but still an extremely important message.

I don't know about you, but I've been yelling THAT'S A LIE! at TVs, my laptop, and phone since Trump first came down that escalator on his way back to Hell but, on no! The Polite Press magnified his lies, paved his road to the White House with them. Poisoned and broke America with them.

Hey Polite Press! Stop being enablers and become the reporters you started out in life to be. Butch up! Get real! Take this son of a bitch on! Do it! Tell the fucking truth to his face, on camera, in print, every time he lies! Trump has no power unless you give it to him. This is war. Which side are you on?

Bird Park East - update

August - The highly rhythmic pomba (pigeon) chant was the first sound I heard this morning. It's a great way to start the day. I highly recommend it. I'm now on the balcony with my morning coffee, listening and watching pombas crisscross between trees and apartment buildings. It's nice being out here again. Earlier in the summer, I did my best to leave the area to the mother sparrow. She raise two separate batches of babies in the roof tiles and was fond of resting on the railing between feedings. She was very determined to keep their location secret. Even a look her way was enough to drive her off. The Waning Gibbous moon is visible in the windy morning soft blue sky. Swallows zig zag by. Chickens are clucking in the grass below. Roosters are hard at their usual crowing competition or whatever it is. It goes throughout day and is my preferred alternative to the now-noisy-again-world surrounding us. The friendly neighborhood fellow and his two white dogs are just now coming down the sidewalk on their morning stroll. The younger dog, as always, is on a loose leash and the ancient one, held together only by love, saunters behind sniffing the morning news. A couple of squawking parakeets just dashed by, a flash of green only. They are always off to somewhere else in the greatest hurry. And, most notably of all, Barkie the Dog barely barked at all last night. I remind myself it's not the new normal but it was damn nice.

Hands up. Please don't shoot me

How many have died with these words on their lips? Portland's Black Lives Matter's eerily beautiful protest chant evokes a haunting, and devastating question.


.Hands up - Please don't shoot me - Hands up - Please don't shoot me.

.Hands up - Please don't shoot me - Hands up - Please don't shoot me.

Happy 4th of July, America - Mask up!

Republican Pres. Donald J. Trump
Flag humper

For the past 50 years, Republicans have chosen either oil men or actors for Presidents and mostly elected Senators and Representatives who are racist and/or evangelicals dedicated to shoring up the crumbling legacy of the King/Priest rulerships of yore. As a result, America is now isolated from all it's traditional Democratic allies, as it slides into a corporate dictatorship run by men indifferent to the millions of Americans ravaged by COVID-19 while the President gallivants around the country at the taxpayer’s expense doing photo ops to feed his insatiable vanity.

Yesterday, America had the world's largest daily increase of pandemic victims, 55,000 reported in all, with 10,000 new cases in Florida alone.

Happy Fourth of July. Be sure to wear your mask and keep your distance.

Note to self - Stop playing Divide and Conquer

#1: Stop arguing.
#2: Silence is compliance.
#3: Blend these and change the narrative.

Midsummer Eve 2020

Today is the apex of light in earth's northern hemisphere. Given the pandemic, I'm not feeling particularly cheery at the moment but best wishes and good luck to you—whatever year you happen by.

Was it a mistake?

Gen. Mark A. Milley, was it a mistake or, now that you've given Trump his photo op, is this just camouflage? You fucking hell looked like the tool of a repressive, fascist government to me.

Silly questions

There's a lesson here . . .

Spider

I'm currently sharing my work space with a spider. I've explained to him that it's not a safe place for such a little fellow but he insists. He's spun a line from the main table to the tip of a pallet knife in a jar of pallet knives on a different table and has been coming and going all morning. I'm trying to be a good neighbor but am worried  this won't go well for him. I'm not sure he can see me, or if he does, what makes of me but he did stop and look at me as I explained the dangers of hanging out in such a cluttered, always getting shuffled around place. I offered to move him out with Plantie on the balcony but he doesn't seem inclined.


—UPDATE—
Spider
is now
making his way
out from under the glass

Worlds beyond the glass

Blue Period

It's not done but I'm now far enough along on the project that this morning, Swami, Juan Carlos, Molly, and I are having coffee and viewing the four panel I've been working on for that last few weeks, illustrations for a poem I wrote called Blue Period. M. has not been invited to the showing yet as he must finish his morning porridge before, in his own words, he is fully human.

Gary's good-bye

"Same. Smaller. Quieter."

That's how my daughter described her dad when I inquired how he was doing yesterday then, this afternoon, to the same question she wrote, "He died this morning. About an hour ago."  I wish he'd lived a happier life but his death was not as lonely as it might have been—she was sitting beside him—had been all morning—nor was it particularly sad, coming as it did after a long illness, cancer not covid.

So . . . yesterday afternoon as the nest full of baby birds under the roof tiles chirped away at the top of their shrill little voices, and I was painting an illustration for one of my poems while listening to music with headphones on, Gary dropped in from America to say good-bye. He was wispy and floating and mostly transparent (imagine something between a whitish horizontal veil-like form with flagella and a thin floating, mostly transparent sea creature) and kind of stand-offish as always, but he was there.¹ My eyes got blurry for a bit but I saw him clearly in my mind's eye . . . he in thin air, me in afternoon light, us remembering what our dreams had been back then (did he chortle?) and who we'd been for each other. We forgave each other. He lingered a few moments more then said good-bye.

Portugal . . . about an hour ago . . .

¹· No. I wasn't stoned or drunk nor do I claim this moment to be a "Fact". Just sharing my subjective experience.

One world

Believe it or not, care or not, own up to it or not—we are making this planet uninhabitable, not only for us, but for life as we know it. If we don't quickly and radically change the way we eat, live, do business etcetcetc— the environment upon which we all depend will collapse beyond repair. This pandemic can be a preview of coming events or a lesson we learn from. Which is it?

No events scheduled except the moon

Lovely moon last night. According to NASA, it was the Flower Moon and marked the fourth and final supermoon of 2020. It hit its peak this morning at 06:45 EDT but, like all full moons, also appears full the night before and after.

Image credit: NASA/Bill Dunford

Lovely day today. Lots going on here at the hermitage, aka apartment. I'm working on an illustration, based on Blue Period, a poem I wrote some years ago. It's written as four scenarios. I am currently doing the first one. It's tempura on cardboard and, at this point, it's become a conversation the paint and I are having. Yesterday was especially interesting. At one point, I realized I was just standing there watching the brush move across the page, leaving a new sky in its wake.

No events scheduled today

Bird Park East in general has been the happening place this spring. There are a couple of noisy nests nearby, one right above our balcony, one across the alley. It's great fun listening and watching the comings and goings. Also interesting, if not a bit shocking, I also saw about 10 roosters chase and jump one of the young hens the other day. Holy cow! Those guys are brutal as ducks. Poor girl. She was terrified. Not so, the seagulls I saw later that day. They were quite tender towards one another mating on the flat chimney top. Afterwards, they hung out together for about a half hour, nestling each other, nuzzling with their beaks, yawning, and looking around obviously relishing the quiet end of the day.

Higher Ground | Playing For Change

Change or die

Strange as this public service announcement is, people are cooperating and Portugal is crushing the curve.

Today's dystopian public announcement
during the COVID-19 pandemic

Chris Hadfield's
 astronaut's guide to self isolation

Thanks for saving my life

We began isolating on March 14. Before that, we half-assed it for a couple of weeks but on the 18th it got real. That's when the Portuguese President declared a countrywide state of emergency and asked everyone to stay at home except for necessary trips to places like the grocery, bank, doctor, and pharmacy. The whole country cooperated. I so appreciate that. As a result, Portugal has been very successful in blocking the spread of the virus and tomorrow we begin the first stage of loosening restrictions. Some, like social distancing, will still apply but certain types of small businesses will reopen. 

I've really appreciated this time. I'm a hermit by nature but have never been terribly good at disciplining myself. During these last seven weeks, I've been able to recalibrate, begin painting again albeit slowly, write and organize my work, see a little deeper, a little more clearly, focus, renew, identify. It's been enough time for new ways to present themselves, hidden things to surface, resolve, finish unfinished business, heal. Today, for example, an event in the distant past suddenly came into sharp focus and I realized I had an amend to make.

My ex-husband is dying of cancer. We haven't been on good terms for years but it wasn't until today I saw, no matter how he might take it, I had a long overdue amends to make. It wasn't the length of time that clarified my thinking. It is this extraordinary suspension of ordinary life that gave the waters time to clear. Today I asked my daughter to pass along a long overdue recognition. "Thanks for saving my life". The details don't matter. The fact that I never thanked him does.

In defense of pigeons

Picasso and a pigeon friend.

Dogs became part of our extended human family over 15,000 years ago and, in geological time, pigeons are a close second becoming part of our tribe a mere 5,000 years later. They are, in fact, the world's old domesticated bird. I think of them as the dogs of birds.

Research suggests the domestication of pigeons began during the Pleistocene era, some 10,000 years ago. They are memorialized in Egyptian hieroglyphs and mentioned in Mesopotamian cuneiform tablets 5000 years ago. They are very helpful folks. They were  humanity's first airmail service during times of war and peace. They are pets as well as mid-air aerialist able to fly upside-down and backwards. Some played ping-pong with behavioral scientist B.F. Skinner, others are doctor's assistants helping to point out cancer in medical imaging. Besides their other contributions to a better quality of human life, pigeons are sometimes muses for artists, poets, and musicians. Picasso did a delightful series of pigeon paintings near the end of his life which are on display at the Picasso Museum in Barcelona. An interesting side note about pigeons and art is that, with a little education, they've proven able to between the work of Picasso and Monet though I'm not sure anyone had a preference. 

Henri Matisse and pigeon pal

Pigeons didn't live in my neighborhood when I was a kid. I only came to appreciate them when I began traveling. They are everywhere I've been, whether Africa, Europe, Asia, S.E. Asia, the Americas. Now I consider it a good start to any day when the first thing I hear is their gentle cooing. What other bird does that? I'll tell you. No other.

From the beginning of the third millennium BCE, these "flying rats" as Woody Allen stupidly called them, have been humanity's symbol of love, peace, the soul, numerous religions as well the chosen representatives of various military, sports, and pacifist groups. The fact that pigeons are common in grungy human habitats like our polluted cities is not because they are dirty. It's because we are dirty. They clean up after us now just as they've been doing for the last 10,000 years.

In praise of the remarkable pigeon

Did I mention

2015
when we first visited this place.

I am now an official resident of Portugal and actually for about a month already. I forgot to mention it but it is something of a milestone. It took over a year, a lot of paperwork, getting health insurance, renting a place, etc but it's official. And it actually does, or did, feel a little different at first. The idea has since settled into its mundane context but I'm glad it's done. The next step is that I must now start learning Portuguese. It will have to be, as a friend in Florida used to say, "little by slowly".

Good-bye John Prine. I never knew ya.

Singer/songwriter John Prine died of the corornavirus a few days ago.

I never heard of him until now. His debut album was released a year after I "renounced the world" and for the next 12 years. Yeah. That's pompous, and it didn't end well, but it's what I did.

I missed him till he died. My loss.

One-sided coin

Day and night have become a one-sided coin as we begin our fourth week in isolation. It matters less and less which it is. The neighborhood birds keep me more connected to the changing hours than the clock. I'm not complaining. I've lived on earth before, I prefer it, on earth meaning I've been tactually connected to nature before, as a child and as an adult including . . . once living for awhile in a one room mud hut with no electricity, or running water, a wood stove for heat, and corner with a hole in the floor for a shower . . . with my then-husband and our two children.

Being isolated like we are now is a great reminder of how we are always at the mercy of artless nature. All day I listened to a strong on shore wind battered the building where we live. Sometimes it hit then crashed over us the way storm waves hit then crash up over rocks. Other times it rattled, and banged things as it tore by. It's still blowing now. I imagine the roof tiles are quivering as I sit in bed writing this in the dark, waiting for sleep.

Pigeon Cafe

"Today is today, the only day there is,
this day, today, so live it and love it"!
- Juan Carlos

It's been open for a long time, five or ten thousand years, give or take a few thousand but, most importantly it is open this morning. In the words of Juan Carlos, "Today is today, the only day there is, this day, today, so live it and love it"!

I can think of no better place than here at the Pigeon Cafe and I use that word "here" lightly because pigeons are everywhere.  In fact, the way I see it, it's their world. I just live in it. So, I'm having coffee this morning at the Pigeon Cafe and what better place to start the day?

The world

The world was crashing
around our ears—
or was it the Anthropocene
beginning to


open
like the century plant
opens—
in its time—
petals of a new
strange
age—
the age of man.

RIP Takaya

Takaya
Photograph: Cheryl Alexander/Wild Awake Images

Takaya, Canada's eccentric and legendary lone wolf dug wells in summer to find water, was known to sit three feet from a person and look them directly in the eye, but though he sometimes sought out the company of humans he also cleverly evaded all attempts people made to capture him in order to protect him from what would be a sure and tragic encounter with humans at some point in his journeys,

Now that we humans have caused what biologists refer to as the Sixth Mass Extinction since our planet's beginning some 4.543 billion years ago, we will have to invent new words to describe the people who kill animals, cut down our last remaining forests, and continue polluting our dying oceans, land, sky and all life that walks, flies, swims, wiggles, burrows, and breathes in this world upon which all our lives depend. And we will need to create words for those people who kill the last remaining members of a species and other words yet for people who kill those iconic members of other species who inspire us to remember to love and save what's left of this world.

On 24 March, Takaya was shot and killed by hunters.

Bird Park East

The three kinds of dawn and dusk

This morning during civil dawn,  the time before the sun peeks over the horizon, as we humans while away in contagion . . . humankind's second oldest friends after dogs, the pombos (poem-boos) aka pigeons, resumed their cooing. Today they chose to begin the day with an old favorite doot DOOOO doot 

. . . doot-DOOOO-doot / doot-DOOOO-doot / doot-DOOOO-doot here . . . do-do DOOT / do-do-DOOT / do-do-DOOT/ do-do-DOOT there  . . . doo-DOOT / doo-DOOT/ doo-DOOT over there . . . and DOOT-doo-doo / DOOT-doo-doo / DOOT-doo-doo from across the way.

And, during civil dawn, the peacocks, roosters, and hens resumed crowing and clucking. Once the sun was fully above the horizon, a couple of parakeets zoomed past flashing their bright green wings, seagulls glided by, and little birds of various descriptions twittered songs in the trees.

After dawn, Blacky the cat made an appearance and Barkie the dog added her comment. Bird Park East, the place I call home these days.

Note to self

Got some of the stitches out today. The rest come out next Wednesday. And yes. The biopsy was positive for Myoepithelial carcinoma again. This time they increased the margins by a lot. I'll have a CAT scan in a few months to see if there's anything left. That's it.

Harbor watch for the predominately inattentive

It looks like a small city at sea, 17 smoke gray stacks against the flat horizon, and the deep voice of a fog horn taunting me with intriguing blasts. This particular freighter has been parked at the mouth of the Tagus since I got up this morning. It must be waiting for a dock to open. Generally the ships just chug by.

I keep binoculars nearby, always hoping for a glimpse of arrivals and departures. I don't have a camera these days otherwise maybe I might catch an interesting photo now and then. As you see, at this distance, my poor phone can't make much sense of things.

M.'s position is that I've never learned any of the cameras I've had so why waste the money. Ok. He's partly right. I haven't studied the technical side of photography but I do have a decent eye, plus it's something of a meditation for me and, as someone with acute ADHD-PI (PI being "predominately inattentive") I can use all the help I can use and I can use photography because it shows me how to focus exactly on what's in front of me then rewards me with a photo to see if, in fact, I did. If you're not ADHD that probably doesn't make much sense.

Radioactive again

I'm typing this single-handed and breakfast with the other. In a few minutes I begin a six hour fast before this afternoon's CAT scan. Afterwards I will be radioactive for a few hours. Creepy.

Another lump has appeared on the back of my neck which must be removed. Most likely it's the same cancer removed last summer, the Myoepithelial carcinoma. We'll know definitely, one way or the other, after it's removed and biopsied. Today's scan will tell us whether or not it's anywhere else.

Submissions update

In January I submitted material to four different publications . . . Rattle, StepAway Magazine, Agni, and Almanac for the Anthropocene: A Compendium of Solarpunk Futures. So far, two have replied . . .  Agni and StepAway. Agni was a rejection but with a personal note encouraging me to submit again. StepAway, a London based online publication, accepted the piece I submitted and the editor included a very nice note. The poem, Afterimage, will be in issue 31. A cool extra about StepAway is that they notify authors of successful submissions within 28 days. The wait to hear back about a submission can drag on for months, sometimes years, so much apprecited.

Rattle is still "in-progress" which is more common. I got their auto-reply immediately but, so far, it's been 41 days and have heard nothing else. Their average reply time is 119 days so it's still very much within their parameters. One thing I like about Rattle is they are writer friendly. While they don't accept work that's been previously published in print or online, they don't consider self-publishing to blogs, message boards, or social media as publication. Most magazines still cling to the tyranical opinion that posting something on your blog renders it unacceptable. Publishers are nothing without something to publish yet they demand fealty from the writer as though they are some medieval Lord land owner or King. My poetry blog gets about 200 visits a month and most of those are probably bots and crawlers so WTF!

As for Almanac for the Anthropocene: A Compendium of Solarpunk Futures, that is a one-time publication by Wagner & Wieland. They describe a solarpunk as someone who "imagines new futures in the shadow of and in opposition to environmental collapse, then works to create those futures". I haven't heard anything back from them yet, and may not. They're not soliciting poetry but I sent them one I wrote about the Anthropocene anyway. Submissions are closed . . . "unless you have a recipe/blueprint/direct action–basically, anything except essays. If you have something that might work, please feel free to contact us until March 15th".

Tuesday with questions

I am coming to terms with the possibility that Trump's so-called "luck" (aka fix) may not run out. As the dim bulb son of a pimp he was born with a trust fund for a diaper and grew up to become a money laundering racketeer somewhat centrally located in the international web of sleaze-bag politicians, two-bit dictators, crooked banks, hired killers, media whores, spineless sycophants, fascists, racists, professional criminals, conniving psychopaths, zealots, morons, and reckless fucktards of every persuasion, and corporate-protected billionaires dedicated to plundering the planet until the last possible moment, and all looking for a mound to fly their flag. 

This asshole may just ride his bloody rainbow straight to the grave but I comfort myself with the idea that his spawn will not be so lucky. Don Jr? Jarad and Ivanka? Eric? Lara? Barron and Ivanka? Who are they as the eco-system collapses? They are baggage. Yesterday's news. Leeches. Big Don dies and who gives a fuck about the "Trump brand"? Really, who gives a fuck about the "Trump brand" now? 

What happens when their criminal network falters, as countries increasingly struggle with economic uncertainty, increasing numbers of climate refugees, as sea surge increases, as drought, plagues, and wildfires become more common and intense? What will they do? Will they still be flying around the globe on the American taxpayers dollar like they are now, cutting lucrative deals for the Trump Organization?

What will any of us do?

Checklist

Molly, Swami, and Juan Carlos

 M. Lee finally officially became a Portuguese resident today. It shouldn't have taken so long but we happened to apply for our visas in San Francisco last June just when the Consulate was changing systems. Our paperwork got lost in the shuffle for awhile. They were especially slow issuing my visa so my appointment at SEF isn't until next month.

We've been traveling for a long time and have always kept half an eye on where might be a good place to move, to make a base outside the US. In 2015 we settled on Bangkok but it's so polluted there that M. got a terrible lung infection and nearly died. After that, we made our way back to Europe but didn't get serious about Portugal until 2017. That's when we decided it could be the place, and by extension the EU. A lot of questions had to be answered, problems resolved, and a lot of changes to deal with. It's been more like changing lives than just moving somewhere and today is a long awaited plateau along the way. Well, not exactly. I'm not there yet. We'll see if SEF accepts my application. If they do, it's one more thing we can check off the list. After that it will still another five years until we can actually apply for Portuguese citizenship but this is a milestone. Between now and then, we'll have to learn Portuguese, which I'm not looking forward to, but it will be a good mental exercise to become at least transactionally literate.

Magha Purnima and song of the Rock Dove

The sea is rough this morning, agitated by last night's full moon, the first supermoon of 2020. As I write this, I can hear the wave's hoarse roar although the beach is a 20 minute walk. During calm weather it's too far to hear the surf but the full moon, especially a supermoon, creates its own kind of magnetic storm . . . bloating physical bodies, agitating emotions and churning the seas. I've read that even the earth itself swells during full moons. Supermoons, being closest to earth, have the strongest effect.

Supermoons have various names around the world. Most reflect the culture and people's experience of the season rather than the moon itself. It's the Snow Moon, Storm Moon, Hunger Moon, Magha Puja Moon, Mahamuni Pagoda Festival Moon, Chinese Lantern Festival Moon and end of the Chinese New Year celebrations, Full Moon of Tu B’Shevat, Magha Purnima Moon and so on. The term Supermoon is the most recent addition to the list. American astronomer Richard Nolle, a writer for Dell Horoscope, coined it in 1979. It has since become something of a photography contest.

I was up before the sun this morning so the moon was just above the western horizon still agitating the Atlantic ocean on Portugal's west coast. It has since set and the sea is quieter now although the rock dove still continues its simple, rhythmic three note song from a near by tree, the local version of the same sweet song rock doves have been singing on earth every day for millennia . . . doot do do — doot do do — doot do do.