In paradisum

Convoi funèbre au Boulevard de Clichy, Felix Buhot, 1887

It’s the time of year when the veil is thin. I think of my parents. I don’t pretend to know where they are now. I don’t pretend to know what I still need from my parents, much less what they need from me.

Although sometimes for an instant or two, I have a feeling.

Lughnasadh Reset

My daily to-do lists this summer have been wild, and wildly unrealistic: Reorganize finances. Work on three poems. Chauffeur son. Post daily Tarot cards. Research 15th century woodcuts and college financial aid. Finish mixed media painting. Make all reservations for our trip to four different cities. (Yes, that was one day’s list and no, I didn’t check off every item that day.)

It’s all good stuff, stuff I’m longing to do during those long months when my day job swells up like expanding foam insulation in the hands of the unwary. But to be honest, I’ve got more exciting, disparate threads than my small mind can handle (or maybe too much foam expanding inside my own brain).  Frankly, I need a break from myself. 

A Sibilla Madrigal

Sibille del Originale 1890, Il Meneghello

I’ve been writing lately about a cartomantic deck I like a lot, the Italian Sibilla. Meanwhile, this month of April is National Poetry Month. So I had the bright idea of combining two loves, by sculpting a Sibilla reading into a poetic form.

Tarot Haiku: Four Questions

I’d been communicating a lot via haiku the last few months, so much so that my students avowed I’d begun to think in haiku. They’d point out the tell-tale twitch of my digits as I automatically parsed the syllables of my thoughts. Uncanny five-seven-five sequences would emerge quite spontaneously in a discussion of, say, vectors or parametric equations. It wasn’t quite like living inside a musical, where people arbitrarily break into song  at the odd interval, but still.

Meantime, I’ve been obsessed not just with reading cards, but reading them with grace and verve.