NaPoWriMo – April Thirtieth Already

Lots of wind, my first growler (go ahead, you can laugh, I live to entertain), and other things. What an April it has been and now onto May. You may continue to see some poems here for awhile until the pandemic winds change things around again. I’ve blended this year’s NaPoWriMo into some early cards for August PoPo so more to come.

Or until the DSL lines come crashing down altogether.

The end of April. Long month of grey days
with golden double lines – stay where you are
it warns as it dips and winds around town.
Wind is pummeling the house. Isn’t that
more like March with its half-remembered kites?
And yet, here we are, blown around like
teenagers with an abundance of so
much everything but no experience
to hang it all on, flailing, some flying
lightly, scooping the sky, slurping up
the tough cord, stringing it as clothesline
doing a windy tango of its own
How’s the weather up there, the cord-paying
hand telegraphs, hoping for a tugged reply.

NaPoWriMo – April Thirtieth Already

Today’s Best Thing – Maybe of the Whole Month

This might be the best thing I’ve done in months. Went out to the mailbox this morning as I do and there was a letter – from the IRS. Now, if you’re waiting for a refund, this isn’t exactly what you want to see in your mailbox. Walking back to the house I opened it. I knew, folks, what had to be done, and I did it.

I’m proud of it. I would and will do it again. And I’ll laugh now every few days over this.

Yes, I fed him to the worms, at the risk of corrupting or damaging my new worms in my composting bin, I ripped him up and buried him in there with all my other compostible bits.

Next time Jerk, don’t waste my tax dollars sending me your signature in re to something that’s already freaking happened.


Moisten and prepare your addition to the compost box:

Ensure the paper is adequately damp before shredding:

Prepare a place in the box and add in the new addition:

Cover and let the worms feast and do their thing:

Today’s Best Thing – Maybe of the Whole Month

NaPoWriMo – Day Fourteen

Busy day doing not much of anything and I’m trying to work with the NaPoWriMo prompt and now I’ve forgotten what it was really all about…

You’ve taken that quiz: what x number of
people living or dead would you dine with,
if you could choose? Classic conundrum.
The answers are wide-ranging, the reasons
personal and predictable, but for
me — give me a table full of folks who
call New England home. Set a place for them:
Emily, Robert, Norman, HDT,
Mary O, Winslow, and John Sargent too.
Billy Collins, (New York, but close enough)
We’d gladly pass potatoes and the night.
What would we talk about? Weather, of course
and love, death and happiness and all things
under that changeable New England sky.

Why these people, you and others may ask?
I like them for their New England natures
They speak their truth and let it surprise you
without too much fanciness. No big fuss.
I like things conversational, and so
like our dinner, simple and to the point.
Twist optional but appreciated.
I tire of the endless highfaluting.
Speak to me simply – what you saw and why
Show me what it did to you that morning
or how the light passed while you watched it go
how birds flew rising and falling like waves
Tell me in plain language how it changed you
all that light, all that living, all those days.

And I’m pretty sure I could tell these folks all about my re-entry into the world of vermiculture and how today I prepared for that.

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give. — Winston Churchill

NaPoWriMo – Day Fourteen

The Eve of NaPoWriMo

Yup it’s that time of year again – National Poetry Month! May all the words be with you.

Counting the Determined Spring

and trees, buds swelling,
and grackles, squealing
and volunteer daylilies
and startled calves
following placid cows
to unknown pastures
along strange paths
Trembling they look
wide dark eyes
hurrying into a
world, newly made.

Meanwhile I was out myself today, driving around, maintaining social distancing and giving myself a stern talking to about “what would Vincent do?”

The Eve of NaPoWriMo

And Also Seen!

Along Highland Rd near Ooms, these beauties were willing to chat it up along by the fence.

And Also Seen!

Ah HA! The Job of the Artist

I started reading “No Time to Spare” by Ursula K. LeGuin and what a read it is. A blurb on the back by New York Times Book Reviewer Melissa Febos promised “The pages sparkle with lines that make a reader glance up, searching for an available ear with which to share them.”

And so dear reader, since the cats sprawled nearby look confused by my fist pump just now, this share is for you! (emphasis mine) Ursula writes about that question writers are asked: what does it mean? She encourages readers to seek out reviews and other analysts of writings if they can’t decide for themselves.

It’s a job I do as a reviewer, and I enjoy it. But my job as a fiction writer is to write fiction, not to review it. Art isn’t explanation. Art is what an artist does, not what an artist explains. (Or so it seems to me, which is why I have a problem with the kind of modern museum art that involves reading what the artist says about a work in order to find out why one should look at it or “how to experience” it.)

I’m on page 42 of this slender volume and this just stopped me in my tracks.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Meanwhile, today was a gray rainy day, not for painting, but I managed to buy some new socks. I also managed to go into an art supply store and leave without anything. I got an EZ-pass thing for my car after finding out from a co-worker that you can buy them at drug stores and grocery stores. Well, you buy it but they put all the money as a credit on the pass so it’s all good. Did some wash, did some reading, watched a favorite movie.

Yesterday I tried again on the scene I’d painted two days ago. Trying to figure out if it’s the change of paper (at least in part), paints getting rehydrated (they are now), me being rusty (yes and yes) but anyway here’s what happened. No explanations LOL per Ursula. Done from photos I’d taken of each scene.

Ah HA! The Job of the Artist

The Sun! The Sun!

I literally ran out of the house this morning when the sun appeared and found a scene to paint, even before starting to sip coffee! That is how sun-deprived we’re all feeling about now.

This one I did at home. I’m trying some new paper by Hahnemühle. The last two are 300lb Cezanne paper (cold press) which is quite a bit stiffer than the 140 I generally use. The first was 140 but a different type that is only sized internally – it’s their Turner line. It’s quite a different experience from the Arches that I have been using from the start. I bought full sheets of both to try and the Turner is smaller (20×26″) than most sheets (22×30″) which confused the heck out of me but I worked out the math to cut it up. Another good use for the mat cutter! This paper came via Acuity Paper in Indiana.

And in case you wondered – was that Mary Beth out there at the side of Old Post Rd? Here’s how you can tell:

M4KE 4RT

The Sun! The Sun!