It is, according to this tree…
Tree cozy
Daily Diversion #44: Sweater Weather Already?
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Category Archives: Photography
Daily Diversion #43: Dying is an Art*
I took the day off from writing…
Dying is an art.
to play with skeletons and drink hard cider. See you tomorrow!
*”Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I’ve a call.”-Sylvia Plath
Daily Diversion #42: Dublin Will Be Written in My Heart*
It’s no secret that the Daily Diversion series features visual slices from the non-writing part of my life. Naturally, the photographs are always original Maedezs. I’m making an exception today-a magnificent exception.
My sweet, fierce, and always inspiring momma is on the first day of a five-week solo backpacking journey across Ireland and England. When she confided her vacation plans to me a year ago-a little breathless, but terribly excited-I saw her as I have always seen her, since I was a wee girl: as a passionate, committed, creative, free-spirited, positive woman. Any fearlessness I possess, is because of her. Any single-mindedness. Any ability to see beauty in the finite or the infinite or to see possibility in all things, however graceful or raw. It’s all because of her.
Her adventure starts in Dublin.
Terrace View. Dublin, Ireland.
*”When I die Dublin will be written in my heart.”-James Joyce
Scene from Dublin, Ireland.
Both photos are courtesy of my mom, Kay.
[News] Putting a Face to the Poet: Is This Emily Dickinson?
According to experts, the answer is yes. It’s only the second known image of the poet, and the first showing her as an adult. ‘Tis a big deal, no? Still No New Pynchon Photo, but Here’s Emily Dickinson-The New York Times
Emily Dickinson gets a new look in recovered photograph-The Guardian
Daily Diversion #41: Sweet Summer’s End
I know, I know. Autumn doesn’t start until the 22nd. It’s still ninety degrees where I live, but I can feel a change. The ceaseless seasonal breeze has returned, bandying leaves about in her dancing wake. I’m excited, but apprehensive; yet I know that summer will be back. When she arrives next year, this is the first thing I will do in wanton celebration.
Daily Diversion #40: Crying “Forward!”
If you cry “Forward,”
you must make plain in what direction to go.-Anton Chekhov
Daily Diversion #39: Beating Time Along the Edge of Thought*
When I cannot write, I look up. Craned neck, closed eyes. I swivel my creaking chair, and open them.
Meditative whir and whirl
Rendered in black-and-white, like rubbed-away ink on a faded page.
*“…beating time along the edge of thought.”-Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
Daily Diversion #38: The Gladdest Thing Under the Sun*
Although hundreds of trees spread across the distant horizon like ink blots, the park adjacent to my flat is the only true green spot in this industrial neighborhood.
Pretty flowers and plants near the old workhouse wall that dissects my neighborhood.
I’m partial to the rust and dust and accumulated dirt, the graffiti and old buildings that litter the CW. The flowers are bright and perky, but they’ll die in service to the coming season. I like the good bones of the stone and brick structures, even if the edges are crumbly. They last, even if they are a bit shabby.
*I will be the gladdest thing/Under the sun!/I will touch a hundred flowers/And not pick one”-Edna St. Vincent Millay, Afternoon on a Hill
Daily Diversion #37: Card House Kafka
It lives on a shelf above my desk. I look at it when I need to loosen my thoughts, daydream.
House of card
The card was made in Nepal and purchased in Montreal, but it reminds me of Kafka, Prague, and my artist friend Jack. I wonder, do the windows creak when they open? I’ve never been dreamy nor drunk enough to find out. Pity.
Daily Diversion #36: Then You Realise That You Got to Have a Purpose*
I came across this whilst wandering around Half Price Books last night. It called my name to the scream of a punk beat. “I’m yours, yours, YOURS, Maeeedezzzzzzzzzzz!”
Route 19 Revisited
How could I resist, especially on the eve of Joe’s birthday?
Route 19 Revisited, The Clash and London Calling
He would have been 60 years old today.
*From Clash City Rockers by The Clash
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