Monday, February 28, 2005

Peanutbutter fun

Goldie loves peanut butter.

and whenever she visits heads straight to the kitchen for a spoonful.

It's the treat that keeps on giving. She also likes cat poop, but has to rustle that up on her own.

Besides feeding peanut butter to the dog, I worked on the layout for "After Hours" about an hour and a half and quit before I drove myself completely nuts. All in all, not a bad day. Hope yours was as fine.

Dread and desire

I'm doing everything possible to avoid working on the layout for the poetry journal, either one. The other day I decided it would be a good idea to do my own publication in PageMaker before I tackle Ash Canyon Review. That way I can work the kinks out under less pressure but here I sit blogging about it rather than doing anything. Okay, here's the deal. One half hour. If I do one half hour of layout today, it's progress. Otherwise, nothing. I wonder if I should do it before or after I get Goldie? Probably after. Otherwise she won't be able to be here very long today. Plus a little walk will do me good. Get the blood up. Clear up my aspirin soaked mind. Okay then. Thanks for helping me sort that out. Come back later for another exciting chapter of Befuddled.

Sunday, February 27, 2005

Raven's return

The ravens are back! Or maybe they're crows. It's hard to tell the difference. Naturally, this means nothing to you. Besides that, you're probably thinking I'm a simpleton. Life is hard but I'm delighted to see them. In fact, if I were smaller, or they bigger, I'd hop on one's back for a ride. I suppose it would be better if I were smaller. If a raven were my size, we'd be a spectacle. Some dupe, crazed by the government's bogus "terrorist alert system", would probably shoot us down. Raven's are the most savvy and hard to photograph of all the birds that visit. This is the only photo I could get before my movements scared her off.

However, as much as I love the big birds, if the more gregarious crows start coming back around, things could get a bit complicated. I'm already anxious that a neighbor might complain about the cooing of the pigeons but I really don't think anyone much appreciates being awakened by the cacophony of crows. Just before they vanished last fall, the morning ruckus was even getting to me. And then there's the Lee Factor. There's already a delicate truce in the house over this...issue. I'll cut back to feeders and peanuts the first sign things are getting out of hand. The birds those attract are quiet. But, for the moment, I'm simply celebrating the return of the ravens. Their disappearance last fall coincided with an article I read about Nevada being invaded by the West Nile Virus. It claimed that crows and ravens were especially vunerable to the disease. Later I heard that wasn't true but this is the first I've seen of them since. Well, it's calving season. Maybe they've come for that. It's a big deal here in Carson Valley. Besides hawks, eagles and ravens dropping by to feast on the tasty placenta left over from the birth, bus loads of people stop along the highway to watch the event.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

It's a wrap

I did it! I winnowed my books down, got rid of the book case, made a thrift store box for some of the stuff, jettison a bit more junk, got rid of another layer of litter and reduced the clutter all in one long day. Notice the books on the shelf above the desk? Sweet. Plus, I avoided Slacker Catholic Purgatory. The nuns used to tell us that the only difference between purgatory and hell is that hell is eternal and purgatory lasts one second less than eternity. That's before the idea of the nanosecond caught on or they would have happily shortened the gap.

My office is much better now. Much better feng shui. The chi finally flows. Good day. Also I got some good news this afternoon. I had surgery last Wednesday to remove a lump in my neck and I got the results back today. Benign. Whoopee! My daughter reads my blog so I didn't want to mention it until I knew what was what. Plus, the surgery was on her birthday. No need to worry for nothing, especially on a day like that. So yes. Today was a good day.

~~~Chi energy~~~~~~~ Clarity~~~~~~~ Tranquility~~~

Confession of the Day 2.22.05

Perhaps no one will read this post for days. After all, only an occasional visitor happens by this strange, outpost border crossing. Perhaps it will lie unread forever in the dustless bitbin of the blogosphere. Nevertheless I need to tell you, my hypothetical future honored guest, that today I am cleaning my office. Certainly, you can see in a second that blogging is part of my deeply rooted pattern of work avoidance but, don't worry. I am exploiting my weakness. You see, I am a recovering Catholic so by divulging my plans, even to a stranger, I'm intentionally triggering my Confession Reflex. The way it works is that once I confess something, I am emotionally obliged to mend my ways. Otherwise, I torture myself. Naturally, every time I use this technique I run the risk of a tedious and draining round of the dreaded Catholic Guilt so I always weight the worthiness of my goal against the ever-pending backlash of failure. In this case, it's worth it. My tiny office is bulging with stuff, junk, litter and clutter. I've made progress against it but now I'm taking on the Wall of Final Resistance. From here on, I'm fist to fist with my personal demons. I will spare you the details. Today I get rid of the books. I know. Shocking! After all, isn't a writer supposed to be surrounded by books? Aren't books true north to the writing life? But they're going. Some of them. Ash Canyon has a poetry library and I'm loaning some of my poetry books to it (probably indefinitely). And I'll give them the book shelf. When bold measures are needed, bold measure are taken.

Monday, February 21, 2005

H.S.T. / R.I.P.

Hunter S. Thompson wrote to provoke, shock, protest, and in general, piss people off. I loved him for that, even though his shotgun approach sometimes did more to obliterate than clarify what he chose to discuss. He did his job, his way. As a writer, he wasn't a watchdog. He was a watchwolf, flushing out the absurdity and rage that strangles us from the inside. I didn't read him for the facts. I read him for the truth.
Excerpt from "Kingdom of Fear" 2003...

"We have become a Nazi monster in the eyes of the whole world--a nation of bullies and bastards who would rather kill than live peacefully. We are not just Whores for power and oil, but killer whores with hate and fear in our hearts. We are human scum, and that is how history will judge us...No redeeming social value. Just whores. Get out of our way, or we'll kill you...

Who does vote for these dishonest shitheads? Who among us can be happy and proud of having this innocent blood on our hands? Who are these swine? These flag-sucking half-wits who get fleeced and fooled by stupid rich kids like George Bush?

They are the same ones who wanted to have Muhammad Ali locked up for refusing to kill gooks. They speak for all that is cruel and stupid and vicious in the American character. They are the racists and hate mongers among us--they are the Ku Klux Klan. I piss down the throats of these Nazis.

And I am too old to worry about whether they like it or not. Fuck them."

-- Hunter S. Thompson
There's a comment about his suicide circulating tonight that "he died most fittingly, in a gun fight with his most vicious enemy". If that's the case, without glorifying what I see, a bitter and stupid tragedy, I'd like to think he won; not by taking his own life, but living it as a transparent voice rising from his own, inimitable dark.

Sunday, February 20, 2005


I put the two black pens back in the cup. The green pen is still out but has moved. It is now laying in the small pool of light coming from the desk lamp.

Comma Coffee's Friday Open Mike Night

I thought I'd post a few photos from Comma Coffee's First Friday Open Mike Night. It's mostly music but several people have been showing up to read and there's a good audience. June, the owner, is a singer herself and she's smart. She lets people use the stage for free. She makes money on the kitchen. It's good for everyone. So, if you're in the area, drop, have a cup of coffee and clap, clap, clap.

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Hot spots and hot seats

Perhaps I put out too much seed.
LP is after me to cut back and I'm beginning to think he may be right. Since Plonk's friends followed him here, things just haven't been the same. The secret's out. I'm going to stop. I really am.

Bird fight.

In other news, Cowee has really turned up the heat over this damn publishing issue. He wants everyone in Ash Canyon to publish. We are not going to publish ourselves in our own journal, Ash Canyon Review. We have to get out in the world the same as everyone else, via publications simply interested in the work, not publishing friends. I love Cowee for it, of course, but I'm lazy as hell and sending poems out is just one more thing. Besides, I do a zine so what do I care about having others publish me? Naturally the answer is, I want "them" to publish me if I want any more readers than 10. Zines are great but distribution is a huge job, one that is only too easy to ignore, which I have. So I need a kick in the ass to get out a little further into the channel and Cowee knows it. I promised I'd have something ready by next Friday. Damn.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Friday night

My office is a mess. I pick up a piece of paper and move it to another part of my desk then set it down. A green pen rests precariously on a pad of scratch paper. Two more pens lay beside the mouse pad. They are both black.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Deconstructionist History

It's her birthday today and I'm posting a few photos celebrating the history of the Deconstructionist. Happy Birthday, darlin'. Hope I haven't embarassed you .... too much.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Valentine for the Strange

I rather hate doing a blog. It draws me into revealing more about myself than I'm comfortable with. Why not stop, you might ask but I can't give you a satisfactory answer so I won't even try. That said, I want to share part of the lovely card LP made me for Valentine's day. He included what is now my new, favorite love poem and Valentine image. I'm sorry but I don't know who the artist is. I'd love to see more of their work. It's wonderful. The poem was written by Stephen Crane. He is best known for his novel, "Red Badge of Courage", but he also excelled at the short story and was a fine poet. Unfortunately he died young, at the age of 29 (1871-1900), leaving years of writing undone. His poetry was so unusual for the time that he didn't even call them poems. He called them"lines".
In the Desert

In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter – bitter," he answered,
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

- Stephen Crane

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Street sign

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Ash Canyon Poets

Okay, I just uploaded the website for Ash Canyon. It's not done but check it out anyway. Cowee loves it. He thinks I'm some kind of magician. Actually, he said "witch" but I don't care for that word. So many violent crimes have been committed against people, because someone accused them of being a  witch or pagan.

It's funny how delighted Bill is. I down play it but, actually, I enjoy his reaction. I'm excited too, and happy to do it. I owe a lot to Ash Canyon. Not only are they fun to hang out with, because of them I've written several new poems. I also set up a couple of blogs for Ash Canyon, but haven't done anything with them yet. I am swamped.



Bill Cowee died of heart failure on October 16, 2009. We will always, always miss him. 
Obituary, Reno Gazette Journal

Bill Cowee
Comma Coffee garden
Carson City, Nevada
photo: Asha


Do Not Resuscitate

We must record the wishes
of our passing
the Advanced Directive,
not the killing of slaves
with their baskets of wheat and dates,
but absence of feeding tubes

or hand pumping our breasts.
Only the sipping of drugs
to ease the journey.
Let me go
into the great lake,
into my own time, my soul
wrapped in its swaddling
with the spices of my life.
My body like a reed
of its own papyrus
ink still wet
with the blessing
of having written.

~Bill Cowee, Carson City, Nevada 2009


The Ash Canyon website is currently on indefinite hiatus but the group continues. It currently meets from 7-9 PM on the third Friday of the month at the "The Bric" building located at 108 Proctor Street in Carson City, Nevada. map

More details about Ash Canyon Poets meetings.
Some of my own poetry can be found at AnnaSadhorse.

Wednesday, February 9, 2005

Handy tips

A comment at JudyBlueSky got me to thinking about Handy Tips, so here's another one, in case you've got a file of your own. When you're doing the dishes, brushing your teeth etc., AND not leaning on anything, squeeze your ass as hard as you can, for as long as you can.

Squeeze anytime, anywhere.

THEN, when you get good that, while putting on socks, jeans etc., AND not sitting or leaning on anything (of course), squeeze your ass as hard as you can, as long as you can. Squeeze till it hurts. Then squeeze some more. You get the idea. Be creative! Squeeze your ass as hard as you can, as long as you can while you're driving, sitting at your desk, standing in line to pay for that soda and protein bar. Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze. Then squeeze again.

Tuesday, February 8, 2005

Paperwhite Gallery2

I can't resist posting another photo of my paperwhites. As a straight photograph, this shot was blurry, but it's kind of nice with a watercolor filter on it.

Monday, February 7, 2005

Birthdays and lesser events

I've got a ton of things to do but here I sit, fiddling around with flickr and blogging about what I should be doing instead of doing it. Really annoying. The most important thing, second only to breathing, is wrap and mail my daughter's birthday box. Mus'n't be late. No no. That would never do. Today, my sweet. Today I mail the rest of the gifts.

Birthday Girl (with floppy, gray ears)

I already mailed the main one straight from Amazon. Couldn't resist the free shipping. Always the cheapskate. All the more for my little darlings, I say. Anyway, the rest of the goodies have to get in the mail, tomorrow at the latest. Notice the little shift in the deadline? And this in only one paragraph. I am poison to myself.

But, as long as we're on the subject, I want to mention the website I'm working on for Ash Canyon Poets. I started working on it here but I'll move it to it's own address,, once everything is set up. With the second Juniper Creek Writer's Conference coming up this summer, Cowee agreed it's now or never. He is completely jazzed about it.

Also....he, Susan and I met yesterday to start working on the Ash Canyon Review, which we will publishing this summer. Now or never. It's not like I'm looking for more things to do but it's just time. The conference is going to be very good and Ash Canyon needs a journal and a website to go along with it. Simple.

So back to the schedule. Birthday box... oh and vote for your favorite blog (Deconstructionist) in the Hellman's Hottest Blogger Award contest.

Open wall

Open wall
Originally uploaded by a..
I've been using Hello for posting photos and will keep that account, but I just signed up for flickr as well. If one is good, two is better, right? Flickr's nice because using it doesn't require installing any software. I will be able to upload photos via email. The downside is that when you enlarge the photo, it takes you to the flicker page instead of just showing a larger image. Oh well, it's one for the road.