A Little Cosmic Energy
…to distract us from the Election.
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I’m looking for something
I’m looking for something–
but I haven’t defined it yet
but I haven’t defined it yet–
I’m something I defined,
yet haven’t—but looking for it
When will I even know
when will I even know-?–
the search, its shadows, me
the search, its shadows, me–
when I search its shadows
will the me even know?
Not choosing one destination over another
not choosing one destination over another–
I undo the little I have already done
I undo the little I have already done–
not another, I—already choosing little–
undo the destination, one I have over done.
I’m not the shadows
but I know I haven’t yet
even defined the looking–
When will I undo choosing another me?
One search over, done for–
its destination something I already have
I wanted to try the paradelle form that Grace offered as a prompt last week for dVerse. I took an unedited poem from one of my notebooks and basically used a lot of the lines as they were. It’s a challenge to make any sense of those last two lines and the final verse.
As some of you know, I’ve been working on the Major Arcana based on Niki de Saint Phalle’s tarot garden images. I ended up doing a lot of them with more traditional variations, although I mostly stuck to the Egyptian theme. But I’m not sure in most cases which images I like/work best. If you have a preference in any of the above pairs, let me know in the comments.
I’ll be periodically posting more.
November 2024
November is an accumulation
of form that rearranges itself
each morning, each day,
each night. Sometimes it appears
as it once was—a dark forest
of branches, ancient, waiting–
a revenant inside a timeless future
moving towards the return
of the light—an outline to fill in—
a vessel transformed by osmosis—
discarding and acquiring all at
once, suddenly, at the same time
Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle.
–Buddha
Inspired by Punam’s meditations on bringing light into the world at dVerse.
Halloween (Thursday Doors)
What enchantment lies
upon the apparitions
that shadow my footsteps home?
The street casts dark
spells—conjured tricks of the eye
that reveil what is not there.
Who inhabits these
spectral bones, these hollow eyes,
these reticulated threads?
Listen to the wind
singing inside the crow’s cry
that hovers always between.
The streets of New York have been anticipating Halloween for weeks. It’s a sudden outburst of spirits I’ve never seen before. But it makes every walk very entertaining.
Skeletons and skulls are particularly popular.
A lot of creativity and thought went into these displays.
I really like these pumpkins.
Even the sidewalks and outdoor dining sheds have gotten into the act.
This is the house that contains that first over-the-top door. It has a long and detailed history, which the Daytonian recounts, including as a private school and doctor’s offices with apartments for the doctors on the upper floors. Evidently now it’s a private residence again. I wonder if they go all out like this for every holiday? I’ll have to go over to the East Side and check it out in December.
My poem is a double mondo (a question and answer of 5-7-7 syllables), on the theme of spellcasting, for Colleen at Tanka Tuesday.
After a year long habitus, the house down the street is back in holiday decor action too.
And don’t forget to check out all the other doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Belvedere Castle (Thursday Doors)
first step up
and up and then look
down—so much
greenery
speaking—listen—the wind hums,
sailing on earthsong
Belvedere Castle sits on Vista Rock, the second highest elevation in Central Park. I’ve often looked at and photographed it from afar (as in the first photo), but I had never actually visited it before two weeks ago. While walking in Central Park, my visitors and I spotted a sign with an arrow pointing to Belvedere Castle, and decided to follow the path and climb the stairs up.
“Belvedere” means “beautiful view” in Italian, and the word fits. Overlooking the Ramble, the Great Lawn, and the Turtle Pond, there are vistas in every direction.
Every article I looked at called the Castle a “folly”–designed by Calvert Vaux and Jacob Wrey Mould in the late 1800s, it was originally intended to be much larger, but a lack of funds scaled down the final structure. A mixture of Romanesque and Gothic styles, with its doors and windows open to the weather, it had no original purpose save to provide a view.
Its tower has long served as the weather station for Central Park, although the building was closed, abandoned, and left to decay and vandalization in the 1960s, as so much of the city was.
In the 1980s, the Central Park Conservancy renovated and restored it, and in 2018 they replaced the open doors and windows with glass. The Castle now serves as a Visitor Center and Gift Shop, and is the headquarters for the Urban Park Rangers’ programs that include birding, stargazing, and wildlife education.
When I saw Lisa’s prompt words for Tanka Tuesday, “castle” immediately jumped out at me. I also included step, down, listen, and sail in my shadorma.
Here’s some historical photos and drawings. And don’t forget to check out all the doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Some Pre-Holloween Creations
I wasn’t able to contribute any new art this week, but I had some spiders to send along. Cobwebs are both mysterious and inspiring.
Evolution of a rock
Just for fun.
Have a good week! Nina
Miscellaneous
I also paint signs. We are still swabbing patients with sick symptoms as we have done for the past few years. We finally got a sign so people know where to go.
I did some face painting at our block party this weekend. I forgot how much fun this is! May start a side hustle.
That’s me face painting. I’m the one in the sunglasses. Love seeing the smiles when they look in the mirror!
Not much on the actual art front but have some things going. Have a good week!
Nina
Urge For Going (October 2024)
If I could
launch myself aloft,
feathered appendages unfolding
in a sudden flurry of magic
freely navigating
the air above the waters
and the land
my eyes
mapping the distances
strung beyond the horizon
listening
for the windsong
to follow to echo
to ride
A quadrille for Lisa’s dVerse prompt of string. Autumn always makes me feel restless. But, like Joni, I never seem to go.
I will be taking a little time off–family visiting and various things to attend to. I will try to show up for the Oracle on Saturday though.
Childhood Doors (Thursday Doors)
My thoughts turned
to my first doors, where
I came from–
Ohio–
once gone, I doubted if I
should ever come back
to visit
those houses—if they
existed.
The trailer?–
a temporary measure,
now mere nostalgia.
The first house
I remember is
in fact there–
a bedroom
added, or one divided–
red now, with a tree.
The second
one, my real childhood
home, also
present, but
the trees are gone. It looks sad,
naked, abandoned.
The vacant
lot where we played
kick the can
is also
gone—but the fields across the
railroad tracks remain.
I looked at the W3 prompt this week from Nolcha, to take a line or two from Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” and incorporate them into a poem, and wondered how I could use them in a Thursday Doors post. I doubted if I should ever come back made me think about my early childhood homes, and if they still existed.
I was pretty sure the trailer where my parents lived when my older brother and I were born, was nowhere for me to find. But, luckily, the other two houses had been on the market recently enough to have real estate listings with photos. I remember the first house as two bedrooms–it’s less than 1000 square feet, although there are many NY apartments with 3 bedrooms that fit that description. But I know I shared a room with both of my brothers. The house had no basement. So my assumption is that either a room was added, and it was more like 800 square feet originally, or one of the bedrooms was divided into two. In any case it looks much more lived in now, with a nice big tree in the front yard.
I was unhappy to see that the owners of the second house had cut down all the oak trees in the front. They didn’t like acorns? or squirrels? or raking leaves? Or they wanted an easier ride for their power mower? My older brother made lots of money cutting front lawns (with a hand mower) for those people in the neighborhood who had no one willing or able to do it when we lived there…(I made a little helping him by doing the trimming along the sidewalks and driveways, my job with our own house)
The dead end street is gone–they’ve made a road now that goes parallel to the railroad tracks. But it appears that there are still fields and trees on the other side of the tracks. That made me smile, hoping the children living there now have as much fun playing there as we did when we were kids.
And do check out all the other doors that show up every week at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
I had to add this at D.’s suggestion.
method two madness 
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