A Portrait in Time

Distance from the old formula and associations are sufficient now. Dwelling in the space in between. Who she was, and who she is yet to be. Two poles on the horizon and the space in between the woman who is no longer the wife has a world at her fingertips to unfold in. Unravelled from the restless space of restriction. Tattered and frayed on the edges, the warp and the weft still bold and reaching from the heart. This magic carpet of life still has some enchanted journeys left.

I have been approached by a couple of friends who want to sell their paintings. Close friend, can no longer loose themselves in the landscapes. The power of a painting is to hold your imagination. A story in a capsule of oil & canvas. The painting should be an escape. A doorway into a field of a world remove from the unpainted reality. When looking at the painting one shouldn't consider the artist, just an appreciation for the pallet and conjouring. Not what he did before of after he picked up his paintbrush. Now my friends have a hard time with the constant visual with a lingering lurking thought. I have tried to be discrete, a necessity in a small town, also too with collectors who so often become friends. When I have encountered anyone I masterfully cap the subject with a brief positive statement. There is no reason to repeat the cycle of dissolving. But the unfolding of our relationship altered a lot. Anyone who knew us over the years, would know of the shi

I should feel something quite considerable. But I am cautious & all felt out. At first all I was wanting to achieve was my divorce. I didn't imagine the year journey of dissolving our relationship would fracture off & splinter so much of what we thought was certain. The two of us should have escaped all this drama, all these casualties all this loss. This town & its people have been excused the staggering drama . Hero's in love, now all that remains of the epic alliance dismantled & linger like scaffolds of previous grand existences. Its as if a storm has moved through my existence & left a hollow shell. I walk around the empty room inside. Taking in the contents. He has left for the last time. The papers have been signed. Whats left is the karmic clause & consequences. Thus we are spun out . Both of us unable in some sense. Both of us un cabled to our stream to the dream that we dreamed. Both un tethered from the structure of what we

I am surrounded by fair weather friends. The slightest storm in a teacup and they flee like fleas on a wetback. Fleaing from adversity as if there were'nt an empathetic bone in their flexible body. 12 years of cocktail raising stands for nothing.

They didn't let it happen, Venus is in the dark side... retrograde and removed from reasoning. So I have to accept that the interplay in this stark clinical world of courts and 'objections your honor' have to pick this up and play with it to know the details. I had been waiting for today, because I was to be divorced. But they didn't let it happen. A plea for a dismissal of the default yada yada fuck up... was somehow accepted. My lawyer was stunned. So it would have nothing to do with my prior tussles with the judge. I had expressed my concerns last week. When this lawyer became mayor of the little historic town at the bottom of the hill, he zoned it off and sold it up the ying yangs. Not content with the available land he brought in a rancher and they worked out a land trade deal with useless checkerboard land 100 miles from her, and carved out prime real estate in this lush little valley. So he & us tussled over his affiliations, and

Was up on the mountain early this morning, long before sunrise. Good long walk up hill helps get the mind quiet. All the time I was looking for a token of the day. I am a champion on finding a treasure when I want one. A token from the earth that gestures an offering, a symbol. But today no scat or bones, the birds busy. I sat in a new meditation spot. One of the rare nooks on the hill that is other worldly. My eye have been playing tricks on me recently. When I meditate the field of focus opens up. I am trying to see the space inbetween everything we see. Maybe I am getting short sighted. But when I am around trees and sky its like I see everything as I have never seen it before. While sitting and contemplating, on the earth beside me I find a old piece of glass. A broken shard from an old thick bottle. Picking it up I consider it my token for the day. At first I think it too simple to be a symbol. Then I hold it up and look through it, I consider it my lense. What is changing today i