2010- The ancient Chinese categorized this segment of the almanac as the time “pheasants enter the water and turn into monster clams”. It’s easy to laugh at these preposterous old fashioned ideas and explanations of the natural world, but what about the part of me that prefers these interpretations to the scientific one? It is a cold and distant beauty that one observes in the world with just the strict senses and rational brain to go by. I miss being personally involved; I need to have it be about me too and why not? I am lonely for a world where such transformations are not only possible but part of the natural order. Myths have gone missing or have been relegated to children who know, as we once knew, that these mythic explanations are in fact the more correct.
If pheasants enter the water and turn into monster clams, what transformations are possible for me?
2011-The little annoying fly that I asked not to bother me turns up every day around two o’clock. Then he fell in my wine glass and nearly drowned. I felt sorry for him then and put him on the counter to dry off. Later he flew near me but I haven’t seen him since. Do I miss him?
2012- A pair of bluebirds showed up, larking all over the deck and sipping rainwater from the slate table. At one point they both flew up and their feathers caught the sun and flashed out in that electric blue. I like to watch them with binoculars from not too far away; close enough to watch the breeze rippling their little brick colored under-feathers.
It seems that I am surrounded by magic but I’m simply looking the wrong way, or in the wrong direction.
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