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IF SOUL WERE A COUNTRY La bella Italia, our hearts weep for you, Land of cypress set in stone, Jewel of the Mediterranean. Before the shadows of night are gone, Hold fast to the 'moon with a bite,' For it will be made whole again. Your spirit cannot be contained,... Continue reading
Posted Mar 22, 2020 at Quixotic
Buckminster Fuller's "spaceship earth" is in trouble. To the man who worried, correctly so, about nuclear destruction, and unbridled consumption, it would come as no surprise to be a proponent of "thinking like a planet." Buckminster wanted us to play the World Game: to be honest about earth's plight or... Continue reading
Posted Mar 5, 2020 at Quixotic
ODE TO WINTER'S WORD Were I mute, my pen would remain, And my thoughts burst forth, A folly of fireflies on an invisible skyline. Were I deaf, old friend, I'd endeavor to improvise like An auctioneer of ideas both rarefied and asinine. Were I blind, dear child within, On you... Continue reading
Posted Feb 22, 2020 at Quixotic
The Capitoline Museum, 2000. Planet Earth had averted the Y2K collapse, humming merrily along, and the forum remained standing. La dolce vita: Verdi, Fellini, Ovid, and Caravaggio—what a world we inhabit. The first emperor to adhere to Christianity, Emperor Constantine was colossal in form to distance himself from the ordinary... Continue reading
Posted Jan 28, 2020 at Quixotic
Candida Höfer's Libraries, essay by Umberto Eco is a big book of beauty for a bibliophile. The essay by Umberto Eco places you squarely, or in Eco's case—diagonally, as in sideways rain—in the middle of a good read seated upon a cushion of thick mohair velvet in one of his... Continue reading
Posted Jan 23, 2020 at Quixotic
INTO THE WOODS If my inner sanctum is where light falls softly, And birds dart and play, Then that is where we live. If my inner sanctum is the backside of the moon, And the sun a halo only, Then that is where we dispel fear. At life's meridian, in... Continue reading
Posted Jan 15, 2020 at Quixotic
#poutyfaces 1982 Vermont A bit like an impressionistic painting... so the eighties appear to rise and shift before me. Motherhood before adulthood. We are the sum of our environment, endeavors, and education—life's lessons being the most important arbiter of a degree. The ordeal that I thought would be the ruin... Continue reading
Posted Jan 14, 2020 at Quixotic
ODE TO NECESSITY A light on the open meadow, bends the wind on a marbled afternoon. The threadbare woods, haunting in form, render me tongue-tied. And again, I see you, my fair-faced one, writing words upon the blank universe. Sipping from the cup of honesty, you pierce the sea with... Continue reading
Posted Jan 12, 2020 at Quixotic
Puppy love drives one to distraction. Love, and peace, and happiness in 2020 to my readers, both near and far! Love, Jo Continue reading
Posted Dec 31, 2019 at Quixotic
How kind of you, Igor. Thank you! Jo
Toggle Commented Dec 28, 2019 on Lucan portrait of Leonardo da Vinci at Quixotic
Once again, society asks the children of the world to be "Super Heroes." Our mess is our shameful greedy mess. And it takes a sixteen-year-old from Sweden, of her own ambition, to spear-head the rallying cry to us mindless slumbering adults. Greta is right. Our house is on fire. And... Continue reading
Posted Dec 12, 2019 at Quixotic
A summer pastime left us with a Swedish winter. Johns, Jon and I, painted the front facade with Viking linseed oil paint. Our work with Swedish natural pigments will be completed in the spring. "In Sweden we paint our house once." The Swedes add that it's good for fifty years.... Continue reading
Posted Nov 17, 2019 at Quixotic
At the Vietnam War Memorial That war was fought in their names too, who preferred jail to jungle, who would rather empty bed pans than body bags, who said: may we die alone in Canada before melting a village or burying a buddy's pieces. Fought also in the name of... Continue reading
Posted Aug 18, 2019 at Quixotic
LISTEN TO THE ROAR Rolled and tumbled by passion's call, my love, unlace your shoes, lock your hands in mine. Lay still, my love, breath to breath, our heartbeats anchored, and swim in the distance no longer. We are home, where words spoken live in three/quarter time, and a kiss... Continue reading
Posted Jul 24, 2019 at Quixotic
—1950s ecktachrome faded slide of the Pantheon, Rome, Italy In 2000, I took a solo seven month sabattical with my three young children to Rome. The train left Marino, our home in the Castelli Romani, seven times a day: 7:21 Roma, 8:37 Roma, 11:25 Roma, 1:48 Roma, 7:10 Roma and... Continue reading
Posted Jul 18, 2019 at Quixotic
Until We Kissed, That Is How can a kiss shake the earth, or cause time to stand still? How can a kiss part the waters of a soul, or call out with laughter to the stars? I thought that was hyperbole, poetic license. Until we kissed, that is. How can... Continue reading
Posted Jul 4, 2019 at Quixotic
THE LINEN CUPBOARD All the many things I desired, When young love garnered my attention. Where did they go? Buried somewhere beneath the wedding linen, With eight monograms free of claret stains, And folded flax that hasn't witnessed daylight. Treasures I grew to value, More than the fibers of my... Continue reading
Posted Jul 3, 2019 at Quixotic
The Man In The Moon Your great-grandmother knew all the old stories, but I'll tell you something that even she didn't know. The moon is a pirates' lookout. Long ago, before there were tides, when over the deep the great ships skimmed silently and only at night, the greatest and... Continue reading
Posted Jun 13, 2019 at Quixotic
NOCTURNAL VOICES How I love you. Who else could I share this with? I don't know? No one I pray— Already, you are my everything. Did we invent love? It seems so. Liberation and release— The timber of free-falling. How I love you. And each lost year, remembered, since time... Continue reading
Posted May 31, 2019 at Quixotic
MR. HUGO'S VERY BAD DAY And so the conversation unfolded between man's best friend and master— Hugo, the Australian Shepherd, and the artist and writer, Giovanna. "Listen G., we need to talk. I may look like a placid stud muffin to you—but I gotta spell it out. What the hell... Continue reading
Posted May 16, 2019 at Quixotic
The Curve of the Earth Two time zones separate my love and I. Nevertheless, all day we talk to each other, and sometimes out loud we each confess. We pull books off the shelves to show each other. We argue philosophy and laugh and share a memory, we who have... Continue reading
Posted May 3, 2019 at Quixotic
"Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats."—Voltaire Voltaire the greatest French dramatist, and the epic poet of his century wrote in the neighborhood of fifteen million words, which he acted upon and exemplified. Born François Arouet, 1694, he adopted the name "Voltaire" in... Continue reading
Posted May 1, 2019 at Quixotic
Hummingbird, oil on canvas, 20" x 28," 2019. My first self-portrait. My feathered friends joined me in my meadow. The graffiti includes inspiration from my novel, which is in the editing process. —To an Etruscan, all was alive. Continue reading
Posted Apr 24, 2019 at Quixotic
APRIL ANARCHY Beyond the barking crowds on earth, Eve joins the unfurled wings of song on air— Singing, 'Be a dandelion in the meadow.' In reply, a hawk in the green crown cries 'Harmony,' And to the fire's damper of ignorance, A sheltered wren warbles 'Joy-Joy-Joy.' The lamb and the... Continue reading
Posted Apr 3, 2019 at Quixotic
BEFORE THE FIRST BUD I'll call him the Cheer-e-o' tree, He has a kink in his leg, It sets his high step dancing. Branches lay long and straight, Not at right angles, How did he get a foot to kick in the air? My very own prancing jester, Juggles honey-crisp... Continue reading
Posted Mar 8, 2019 at Quixotic