Images

Turning the lens and they have gone from binoculars
to a kaleidescope. There is a ceramic building with
mosaics and the walls are creamy yellow with a pattern
of purple, green, white, black, with small diamond and flower
bursts, tall cypress like trees, and it's Turkey
or some middle eastern place with a dome shaped roof.
Hands are raised up and then wave in a motion
Knees on the ground on small carpets
absentia, in absentia, crimson tide
Beruit.
Alabaster statues and urns and a long thread
running through the room.

Esther. Esther running with a doll in her hand
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A sickle and a hammer
a flag with a white background
bastions and temperance
One woman standing yanking her hands down
in fists, to stand taller
yelling out to the heavens, to God
in a flat type of dress
long black hair
stamping at the ground with one foot
this will be
and everything will be
she can see bodies lying at her feet
last known survivor
crying to the last known witness
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indecision as a prison, captivating
shuffling the cards and yellow markers
hands patting something together in the kitchen
a roll of dough, and turning to think at
what or who could know
she is barefoot and plays the cello
she has a curtain divider
and a cartel and rises early in the morning
to retire late at night
in pajamas
cookie, sugar cookies and a book before
bed or while in bed almost every night
indecision on the counter
left beside a vase of blue and white english cottage
design
desire is her name
she laughs out loud while reading
in situ
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red roses and pink roses on a chintz covered couch
she leans forward for a glass of wine
from the table before her, glass and wood legs
white dog like a shitzu running across the floor
tells kids to put their pajamas on
watching t.v. and a newspaper beside her on the couch
magazines on the floor, of fashion
Torino
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bananas and el dorado
bananas from a rack
dusty road and surround
indian reservation
small house of short stature
lizards out in the rocks to the side
bering straights
mississipi morning country song
plaid coat across the chair
she is singing and he remembers
the rocking chair and the baby
powerbars for the journey
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black hair under hat
on bicycle
know you look familiar
even from the side passing by
last minute
in Seattle
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this isn't an image, but I wanted to mention, when I was in Seattle, that day, when I thought I was going to not get a continuance because the praying felt so strong, I DID get a continuance! I was really shocked and had resigned myself to being screwed over. I was fully ready to go to jail as an innocent, but just go to jail. But it was odd, because I had the good feeling or feeling that someone was praying for me, VERY STRONG almost all day. I especially noticed it for about two hours or more when I was at the cafe and worrying, and then when I was at the bus stop for a few hours, right before I got on the bus. It was the feeling I got when I used to have the very good feeling something is right. I haven't had it in a long time. It's indescribable and not mania. It's nothing out there either. But I felt very at peace and protected even though weird things were going on there. I felt that someone or some group had me in their thoughts or was close to me.



I got the first images very clearly, the first two,
and then I think I was trying too hard. I'm tired and my creativity hasn't been so good because of all the poisoning maybe? or something.