This woman. Sitting in front of me, is one of the most intelligent and talented people i know. She is also sexy, very kind, a mother, a dj, a playwright, an actor, an athlete and more. I am so so glad to know her and proud to be her friend. She is a mentor of sorts, even though I am 10 years older. Who’s counting? We were born in September 3rd and 14th respectively. I love her very much.
The graciousness she showed when the priest came to say prayers that one Sunday.
How she asked permission to sit as she could not kneel. And the way she clasped her hands together in the prayer position, it was difficult for her to make them touch but she did it. And she smiled so happily after the service.
Her howling, obviously in pain and scared. Didn’t understand what was going on… I understood. Feel for her.
Doing her exercises with the physiotherapist she was tired!
Always dropping off fruit or some offering on her way down from NE
Mangoes ripe and delicious – the fruitseller holds two in his hands and gestures me over with his eyes and head. A bathariyan dancer could not do better, and I am, as usual fascinated by the endless language Indians have in the nodding of a head, a blink of an eye, a raised eyebrow. Pupils that dart from left to right, a universe of commands in a sea of faces.
What matters? The Sun, the moon and the stars. Love. The best kind. Unconditional, gentle, considerate and deep. Sex. Erotic, sensual, in unison. Babies in all their innocence. Family: the ties that bind us. Creating, creating original works that the world has yet to witness. Music matters. Meditation matters. Meditation is what will see us through. Exercise, yoga, specifically. Integrity matters. Integrity in action is authentic. Focus concentration and discipline will work. Find your light, shine with loving kindness, be mindful, be happy, may all beings be happy. People matter. Saying sorry matters, hard work matters. What matters is that we write. One day I hope to see my writing published in the form of a book. What matters? Matter, matters. Without matter, we won’t matter. No matter.
This painting by Harry Peiris is for view and sale at the Barefoot Gallery. I have listed the wikipedia reference for those of you who want to now more about him.
Today the grass wilts
Tomorrow it grows taller
Green grass underfoot
Hot days ahead! May.
Spring has abandoned us for
A scorcher summer
Bananas in bowl
Blueberries in the mixer
A morning smoothie
Economics and English
In black and white portraits show
running through the woods
that hard autumn day
the cold almost froze
i thought i would stop
mid-track, turn into a piece
of beef, (or a cadaver)
hung in some butchers shop
people would stop and stare
look through the window-
i would squint and glare
until they turned away and
walked mile after mile onto
telegraph road—until i, the runner
ran to catch up to the crowd
that had stared at me at the
i opened my eyes, and looked
outside, I had just woken from
the craziest dream I have ever had
must have been the steak
i had for dinner the night before
at that fancy restaurant known as