Showing posts with label green. Show all posts
Showing posts with label green. Show all posts

crepuscular

Wednesday, April 28, 2010 | |






outside d.b.a. brooklyn 8/09




Different from the Nocturnal, or the Diurnal,
there is a shy, little known third sleep-habited sibling,
the awake in dawn and dusk,
those who live in the gloaming, only
twilight, Mourning Doves, that nameless rat and deer.
How strange that they have twice as many
days as us.
What will happen
when dystopia finally rolls around, huh?
In that constant grayed dim,
moths beetles guinea pigs
and cats will rule over everything
and be dayless,
sleepless and powerful a giant particulate
Leviathan in the translucent darkness.
And now,
this tangerine tastes alcoholic like a cider
and dusty like moths and garages, and I think
of fathers, yours and mine,
getting troubled in the twilight,
using days up twice as quickly after all,
theirs and ours, and those of many other
Diurnals (now insomniacs) that we love.





Crepuscular is a term used to describe some animals that are primarily active during twilight: at dawn and at dusk. The word is derived from the Latin word crepusculum, meaning "twilight." Crepuscular is thus in contrast with diurnal and nocturnal behavior. Crepuscular animals may also be active on a bright moonlit night.
The patterns of activity are thought to be an antipredator adaptation. Many predators forage most intensely at night, while others are active at mid-day and see best in full sun. Thus the crepuscular habit may reduce predation.




&&&, #1

Wednesday, April 21, 2010 | |




hopkinton state park, MA / 5.09



I’ve been living hedonistically.
But I’ll always love shade plants more than sun plants,
their humble leaves rounded and tougher, duller darker
nothing showy like those dry bright noisy spangled
sun plants.
I prefer shade plants in the same way I will always prefer
The East Coast.
And still,
for someone who loves weird screensavers the way I do,
I make a good try at being useful.
Post-apocalyptic skills list into the double digits.
I don’t even run from bees anymore.
The houseplant has much in common with the shade plant
And is often a shade plant itself,
taken out of the ground with a little bit of dirt
to help us out up here.
Thanks Spider Plant.
My alley cave seems nicer now.
The day was so dark that the morning birds
never stopped calling. They
faded right into the evening birds.
The one that goes,
{Play or Sing: E sustained, B, B sliding to B flat}.

There’s only so much you can do
with what you get,
a broken chair,
a can of crushed pine-apples.







I Propose A Toast -

Wednesday, March 31, 2010 | |



knees
knees, mine / central park NY 8.09



Here I am finding myself wishing I’d have made something
and not wanting to make something. This happens to you too, right,
When Son House presents the Pony Blues,
When you hear the insects recently born in your alley,
new empowered party crowds arms bared
legs allowed by the new air’s slow
warmth, when radiostation is being created
somewhere close to you and you know
(because you and radio both agree,
you say Yes, exactly, to it)
and who could know about how here feels if they weren’t here now.
Radio and I should talk.
Someone tell them to say their phone number slower between songs,
like they would if they were expecting someone
to actually call.
There are more electronics home than people right now. When did it become like this?
To Do:
Sleep again
Wake again
Close the windows
Ask the city politely to stop pressuring me to participate
Participate
Pick up laundry.
My spicy breath feels seasonally inappropriate now. I must add
to my list,
Eat a cucumber.
And,
Buy a box of Sun, like the one Cara sleeps with, on like the day, plug
for indoor use only.
Set it on a timer to give the real Sun
a good example. Good examples always help
like the answers in the back of an algebra textbook help lazy students.
I ate the apples you left here last month.
They were gritty and old like the city and fermented like you.
Gritty and old like you too come to think of it.
You too had the chance at those new seeds but I ate them and have shitted
them out generously to this city’s soil,
made previously only of dead squirrels motor oil and newspapers,
now made also of cucumbers, this afternoon’s tacos
and the appleseed’s future apple-trees that should rightfully be growing from
your dead posthumous humus-dirt chest
sprouting in the center of your fertile pickled heart.

To Spring---




Unsure of your position in human history?

Monday, February 8, 2010 | |





hopkinton state forest, mass.



There is very little that you can do to comfort yourself.
At best, find someone to love, read Carl Sagan, and get out of your house before 10 AM every day.
At worst, sleep.

It's okay.



It was a bird in a cage

Wednesday, January 27, 2010 | |





cold war bunker / nantucket MA july 09





warm war bunker / nantucket MA july 09






I just had the most refreshing sleepless lay-down I've ever had. I feel so good, and new. Lesson learned: embrace your insomnia.


HELLO AGAIN, EVERYTHING



summerhot madness

Thursday, January 21, 2010 | |








this summer's tomatoes on the fire escape august 2009



went over to cara's new apartment last night, she's got exposed brick walls and a back porch with broken down chairs. i read a psychological study years ago that stated a high correlation between cityfolks with exposed brick in their apartments and overall feelings of contentedness. but correlation aint causation.

still, though, she's got a back porch with a sky in it, places for us to all sun our bones when this place starts to thaw (and it will)

after dinner we all started watching music videos with high school party scenes, feeling happy and like we had a past, and eventually we came upon will smith and dj jazzy jeff's "summertime"

that song makes me want to wear belly shirts and hang out on stoops and on cara's new back porch with the BBQ going all smoky and arnold palmer in my glass.

i'm realizing a function of my switching from digital to film: all my summer photos are coming back now, and i can't write about anything recent anymore. i look through my boxes and get pictures of tomatoes and tan faces and beaches.

so let me tell you a little something about my winter

it's cold, it's good, it's a little nervous. someone said the theme of this year should be decadence and i agree. i want to sit with all of you in warm rooms and revel in it. drink hot drinks out of nice glasses and wear impractically fuzzy socks that you can't even put shoes over, that's what i want.

i like winter best, i'm a winter creature, i like wearing more clothes and i hate sweat. i like seeing my breath. wearing big coats makes me feel tough and eastern european, i like to think of everything in cyrillic and all us humans just crazy enough to brave it these few months. i like how awake the cold makes me feel. i like how the city smells clean this once each year. i like the dry sidewalks like we're in the tundra, in a cold desert where everything just rattles and everything is hard surfaces. cities are meant for the winter and so am I.

i even like when the cold drives people inside, like any other condition new yorkers can't handle, like any time before 8 am. the streets get desolate like morning and walking around in my two pairs of pants and hood and black jacket, boots and flannel, long johns and blanket, i'm alright.

three cheers for winter shivers &
three chills for winter cheers



one girl girl-gang

Tuesday, January 19, 2010 | |



meyer hall of physics

stuyvesant street manhattan


phil & john wayne



meyer hall of physics/stuyvesant street garage/phil & john wayne at the kent box, nyc




as lil' kim would say, i was gone for a minute now i'm back at the jump off. (goons in the club 'case somethin jumps off.)

so everyone who's reading this is alive which means that we all made it through the worst of the winter darkness from hell, hope you're all at your artificial sunboxes basking and smiling because it only gets better from here. maybe vampires will finally become less popular. sunsets later and sunrises sooner folks

got a mason jar in my hand, some ones in my pocket and a sandwich in my stomach and it feels good to be back, i forgot how much my gang here loved to laugh loudly in restaurants, i forgot how good it feels to walk. forgot what a luxury the subway is, running all 24 hours (even the ungodly ones) and forgot how that agency to move is. no, i'm alright, i don't need you automobile, i've got the leaky tunnel and the plastic seats and the blackened tracks from here to anywhere. and im'a go.



what it really comes down to is why not

what it really comes down to is when, and let's

don't ask me what's happening because it's happening now so let's go.

if you don't have anything to say don't say anything at all

Tuesday, December 1, 2009 | |




prospect park brooklyn



home alone

Wednesday, October 28, 2009 | |






nantucket island, mass.




how did you get here

Monday, October 26, 2009 | |



how did you get here
nantucket island, middle of july




well, we used a car, a bicycle, and our feet


it's funny how i wanted to go to The Promised Land (new york city) and now that i'm here i want to go to The Promised Land (new england)

i wish new york city hadn't gotten so heavy and immovable or else i'd dig it up and move it to somewhere in the berkshires




wish i could stop thinking about the particle accelerator
wish i knew html as well as i did in 8th grade
wish i had answers for everybody
wish i could make paper snowflakes as well as him
wish dancing was less socially conspicuous
wish multivitamins worked
wish i had more time to listen to jay-z



massachusetts + nyc = ULTIMATE PROMISED LAND

LETS DO THIS folks come on, gather your caterpillar owning friends and lets dig this damn city up

when i get to boston i'll send a postcard
To: The City of New York
Wish you were here!
Love: Massachusetts

O Hello Afternoon

Monday, September 14, 2009 | |


Oh Hello Afternoon!
annalise in the hamptons august 2009


so much to love lately it hurts me

Sunday, August 23, 2009 | |



the heat I
sagaponack NY august 2009



been doing a lot of thinking, not saying much these days



small red woman walking away

Friday, August 21, 2009 | |



a small red woman was walking away
madaket, nantucket MA july 2009



summer is slowly closing and i don't know how i feel about it, like any other year



edit: but i definitely feel about it


ninety

Tuesday, August 11, 2009 | |





jim
jim 6/09





ninety-five, five away from 100 degrees it was and I saw an older man so bored he was playing with the garden hose. hosing in the alley at the tiles. drawing on the aluminum siding like a child but gray and top-bald.
that kind of day with the air again. thick like a soft pillow all around you pushing in so that all your movements are slow. the light tags behind the sound now, its first embarrassing loss in its race to you in Ever.




hope as emergency prayer

Saturday, July 25, 2009 | |


rachel
rachel on smith's point, nantucket MA july 2009



i woke up this morning valuing my life. as i really always should. Because Damn the world is a dangerous place and we get so dangerous to each other



city's getting friendly again

Tuesday, June 2, 2009 | |


cara & brian
cara & brian, tompkins square park. may 2009



take down all the hems from your clothes, you're taller now

Monday, June 1, 2009 | |


ms cara earflowers
ms cara earflowers. hare krishna celebration in manhattan may 2009




happy june



human nature walks

Friday, May 15, 2009 | |


prospect park, brooklyn
prospect park, brooklyn may 2009.



my life falls together
then falls together again



it is hot and raining outside

Thursday, May 7, 2009 | |



annalise
annalise under wisterias, manhattan may 2009



it is dry and tired inside
dark approaching academic thesis-disaster always exhausts me more than athletics


cornbread, collard greens

Monday, April 20, 2009 | |


hairy armpit animals (2)


tompkins square park

cara

andrew

cara

cara & i
tompkins square park, manhattan. 4.17.2009.




i'd forgotten how easy it is to walk when the wind doesn't hurt you. last night the breeze was warm. warm- i went for hours and blocks and miles. i need new city summer sneakers. young soles that aren't scared of these new night walks.

as time passes it's harder to break my time up into swallowable pieces. i can't tell if that will make adulthood faster or slower than the last 7,000 halcyon days. my future years endlessly fall ahead of me like a bad painting with no vanishing point.

it is warm. my legs are brown. i am getting nothing done.








real but not live




implicated