Sunday, April 01, 2007
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
And you become a forest in a furtive lake;
The dark pines of your mind reach downward,
You dream in the green of your time,
Your memory is a row of sinking pines.
Explorer, you tell yourself this is not what you came for
Although it is good here, and green;
You had meant to move with a kind of largeness,
You had planned a heavy grace, an anguished dream.
But the dark pines of your mind dip deeper
And you are sinking, sinking, sleeper
In an elementary world;
There is something down there and you want it told.
Dark Pines Under Water by Gwendolyn MacEwen
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Do NOT eat potatoes which are green under the skin or bitter tasting. Even if you avoid the green parts, they can still be poisonous.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Grizzled feather glint in his black wings.
He strokes the tree, the water and the cat,
Glances at the mirror of the day.
And the pond shivers though the wind has stilled,
And the cat on the doorsill attacks the air
Like a mouse. The tree's blood begins to jell,
Day falls in stains on the brown grass.
The hundred year old oak door
Screeches like a newborn. Through yellow fog
The patient's eyes see: rainbows
Slump to earth like cackling parrots.
The clock counts out the time for the living,
A spider hangs his web among the stars,
And the angel, having entered the hearth,
Turns into smoke, ashes, embers.
Death's Angel by Henrikas Radauskas
Monday, February 05, 2007
Friday, February 02, 2007
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Friday, January 26, 2007
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Monday, January 08, 2007
Thursday, January 04, 2007
    jejune: vapid, uninteresting, childish, immature
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
"de vries' first and perhaps most important work in this context was the installation `16 dm2 wiese' (16 dm2 meadow) dating from 1974, exhibited in the Vleeshal in Middelburg in 1979. For this work, he dug up a square with a side length of 40 cm out of a meadow, took it apart and completely filled the walls of a relatively large room with the individual, pressed plants, each glued on to a piece of paper..."
"herman and Susanne are sitting together in the forest near Eschenau in the autumn, between them is a large board with a sheet of paper attached to it. As the leaves fall from the trees they glue them on to the paper, exactly where they have landed."
At this writing, the reputation of the Ludlow Library (although it has been largely inactive for the last decade) has grown to almost mythic status among those working and collecting in the psychoactive drug field. No comparable resource exists for scholarly research. This is largely due to the vision of the library’s founders and directors, who were educated members of the antiquarian book trade while at the same time participants in the 1960s counterculture. As the first to acknowledge and uncover the existence of a vast literature of drug experience, they ultimately served to reverse the neglect in which drug literature was previously held."
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
It was just courage, not compassion, that I lacked..." --Bertolt Brecht