Tag Archives: Nature

The Wilderness Inside

Posted on January 2, 2014 by randomyriad

  the wilderness inside There is no escaping the wild.  It is everywhere, in cars and in airplanes at 40,000 feet. Inside my head are vines of forgotten jungles And microbes more ancient than the first people.   The wild … Continue reading →

Posted in Art in Nature, mindworks, poetry, thinking in words, Wild Life | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Walking Toward Winter

Posted on November 24, 2013 by randomyriad

for I am mad with     devouring ecstasy to make joyous hymns for the whole earth.  Walt Whitman, Excelsior  Today I walked and took a lot of photographs. The visual chaos of spring and summer fall away revealing the skeleton that … Continue reading →

Posted in Art in Nature, autumn, capturing light, change, My Art, paying attention, Walking, winter | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Three Unconnected Thoughts Written Down Today at Various Times

Posted on September 22, 2013 by randomyriad

#1  Today the sun and clouds decorate the sky with sculptures of water, ice, and floating particles. A gentle breeze, like a lazy curator in a sky-sized gallery, sifts through the day, moving the pieces about here and there. I … Continue reading →

Posted in Art in Nature, mindworks, my life, On the Salish Sea, thinking in words, Walking | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Living Like Falling Water

Posted on September 17, 2013 by randomyriad

My divorce is final, and I have been feeling very empty and removed from the world. I have been feeling a lot of anger toward my now ex-wife, but today I walked and made my life start from today. I … Continue reading →

Posted in All part of the process, Art in Nature, change, mindworks, my life, paying attention, philosophy, poetry, summer, the end is the beginning, thinking in words, Walking, whereever you go there you are | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Century #22: Surflessness

Posted on August 10, 2012 by randomyriad

From the Journal of Mylo Grove: July 19, 1998 My mom read the pages I wrote. She thought it was perfect. She said that even if she hadn’t known me and picked that up and read it, she would know … Continue reading →

Posted in California, Family, Fiction, novel projects, On the Salish Sea, Voices in the Chorus | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment