poetry of breathing and bricklaying

after days of gloomy mood & gloomy skies, there was a lightening

the last seven days have been rough, both for reasons outlined in my last few blogposts and for some other unbloggable reasons.  today was so good, though.  just a plain day full of work, reading, & breathing it in.

i practiced my work(wo)manlike behavior and just did what i'm supposed to do--stacked some words together in a funky crooked wall, and it felt great.  good or bad, destined for an audience or the audience of one, doesn't matter. 

the work happened, and that's all.

i heart c.d. wright so much, and this poem looks as good as my day felt.  click on this link to hear the poet read the perfectly plain & beautiful piece below:

Flame

by C.D. Wright

the breath               the trees               the bridge

the road                  the rain                the sheen

the breath               the line                  the skin

the vineyard            the fences             the leg

the water                the breath             the shift

the hair                  the wheels             the shoulder

the breath               the lane                the streak

the lining                the hour                the reasons

the name                the distance          the breath

the scent                the dogs                the blear

the lungs                the breath             the glove

the signal               the turn                  the need

the steps                the lights               the door

the mouth               the tongue             the eyes

the burn                  the burned            the burning

Hawk and Awe

Hawk and Awe

Hawk and pigeon (Better photo linked below)

Just returned from my first yoga class in a new yoga studio. There were four of us. I made a promise to breathe deeply and deliberately for the rest of the evening.

See?  I'm doing it now.

Earlier, I watched the red-tailed hawk in Tompkins Square Park tear feathers from a dead pigeon he had clutched in his right claw. He rained feathers on the humans assembled below him.  In response, the humans held their phones aloft trying to snap good pics. My lame pic is above.   I wish I could be my essential Julie nature as easily as this hawk is a hawk.

The hawk's mate was in an adjacent tree, but higher. He kept vocalizing to her--at least that was the general consensus of the humans--but she wouldn't come down.  I was in awe of the whole thing. We rarely get to see such dramatic examples of the natural world at work here, unless its squirrels or pigeons fighting over the same bread crumbs, an occasional sick rat stumbling out of its hole for water.

And before this, I paid one penny for this painting of a penny at Culturefix.

Leg wear: Striped leggings that took me to yoga and back


Inspiration: The hawk being a hawk, my co-blogger


Goal for the week:  Deep and deliberate breathe