April 23, 2009
His trews were strewn with gold A+ GOOD JOB stars and sprinkled on the firmament floor while he danced. She danced too, with abandon and perspiration, and glued a star on her sole. They walked four blocks, and her star did not stop lighting her hobble, and she found it when she unglittered herself for bed.
April 5, 2009
Time turns on itself, a moebius highway twisting into new territory, no brakes work here.
You might as well walk out of the desert blindfolded, as with your eyes open, because given a big enough desert you will walk in circles.
One compass struts its stiff veteran's legs across maps and charts, measuring distances.
Another compass wavers, then points with his blued sword to magnetic north. But maybe it isn't the same as True North; maybe it's a compass tired of its journey?
The old North Poles are buried under glazed seeps of arctic ice. Graves of trolls are there too, in the ancient cemetery.
The next magnetic north wanders like a warrier looking for his lost spear, looking for his new encampment. His descendants wait under the ice.
The "Time & Place" sundial sculpture (August 2008-May 2009) above, with Nature's fallen tree behind it, is by artist/activist Douglas Retzler (seated). I took it April 5, 2009. Go to sundial, then click on photowerks, then choose a set of sundial pictures.