It’s Thursday, so here are some doors that live across the street from me. I admired them the first time I saw them, waiting outside for the broker to show me the apartment I’m now living in.
When I posted a photo of the view from my window, Jade asked if I could take some pictures when I was out walking. Here are the houses across the street. The entrance to the houses with the interesting roof is down steps, and not as beautiful as the rest of the house.
I took these photos walking early Sunday morning to meet my daughters for coffee and tea on Columbia’s campus, which we do on weekends, weather permitting. I liked this bike parked on my street as I headed to Riverside Park.
Many buildings have planted flowers around their trees. I live between Central Park and Riverside Park, but my daughters both live above Central Park and close to Riverside Park, so that’s where I walk. Here I’m on my way west.
More doors, one up and one down.
I’ve made it to the park. Citibike has stations every few blocks. You can see most of the bikes from this one are already in use. Early morning also means dog walking, with owners stopping to chat.
Last weekend many trees were still in flower, but things were starting to look more green.
In some places you can see the West Side Highway, the Hudson River, and New Jersey. Hello Nina!
On the way back home I went down from the streetside walkway into the park proper and stopped by the 91st Street Garden, which is maintained by volunteers. It’s looking good! We’ve had plenty of rain this spring.
I couldn’t resist this house and doorway, although I cut off the top of the building, being an inexperienced street photographer. I’ll have to try again next week. I wonder–why are those windows on the turret facing so far in? What was the architect thinking? Perhaps the white part is a later addition. But still, it’s a great building.
And finally, some graffiti (this is for you Jack) and some outdoor dining on Amsterdam Avenue. These sheds are all up and down the streets now.
I seem to have many blogging friends who do street photography, and it was fun to try it myself. Thursday doors and more for Manja, Pat, and Robbie, for Jack who is now chronicling the streets of LA, and all the others who keep a lookout for the ways we go from one place to another when we are out walking. And thanks to Jade for the inspiration.
The sentiments extend beyond Times Square to my part of NYC too.
Join Thursday Doors here: https://nofacilities.com/2021/05/06/march-april-leftover-doors/
It’s May! I haven’t done any artwork for a month, having used art from the archives for my April NaPoWriMo posts at kblog. So it felt good yesterday to ignore the moving boxes and pull out my watercolors and paint. I did two paintings, below–a landscape and some impressionistic flowers.
I then cut them into one inch strips and wove them together for my grid. I also did some further experiments, cutting some of the strips into one inch squares and arranging them in different ways. But that’s for another day with more time to think.
The moon visited me at dawn yesterday. It was dancing with the clouds. The Oracle managed to insert it into my May verse. Well we know how She feels about the moon.
wild winds grow full
listen to Maysongs
birds seeding spring air
with gardens rooted deep
in the fertile paths
that follow the wandering moon
what dream is this? circling
spiralling into form
slipstreamed fertile reborn
Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday theme is dreams, so I’ve written a variety of dream poems for March, a dreamy month I think. I’ve interspersed some of my previous March grids.
in March I
rains that be
come sun-dappled spring—shining,
blooming with birdwings
part of the landscape
begin to dance
with waves of light, singing
sun into roots, filling
my nights with dreams
Poetic forms are, in order, abhanga, shadorma, haiku, badger’s hexastitch.
remnants of autumn bending
landscapes into dreams
beneath winter’s frost
ancient stonesongs murmur
from seed to spring
haiku and gogyohka from the Oracle
condensed into light–
gold tinged with tides,
rising and falling
I did a similar grid with circles a few years ago, but I’ve always wanted to give it another try. As with the last one, I first painted a landscape (wishing I had my gouache, but done with watercolor), then cut it up, rearranged it, and added collage dots from my collage box. Here’s the original landscape:
David Hockney-ish I think. Not my usual style, and perhaps a bit brighter than I intended. But I like the colors.
I’ve done a tanka for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday form challenge, which also works for Frank Tassone’s challenge of harvest moon. The paint oracle is totally responsible for turning my moon painting into a tree.
My new view of the full moon. I have to catch it when it passes between the buildings.
we were when
I stand alone surrounded by distances, covered with a vast blue, green layered behind and below. I have come to the precipice to find my place in the landscape. I intended to bring beautiful words, to leave poetic gifts as tokens on the wind, to tie threads of song to the sky.
But I find nothing more is required of me than to be here, present, alive.
to the earth
For Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday, a haibun inspired by the photo provided by Frank Tassone, above.
I’ve had this song on my mind for awhile.
also linked to earthweal open link weekend
journey like a river,
found in the places
that are always home
sing the music of oceans
weaving patterns of mercy–
journey like a river
become part of each movement,
every path transformed,
found in all places
pass along what has been given–
ride the sky like the wind,
always at home
Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, immediately made me think of Paul Simon’s “Peace Like a River”–and that made me think of “American Tune”–hence the 2 part title. The poem is a cascade, always a good form when writing about water.
Sue titled her photo “Yearning” and I think that’s an emotion Paul Simon captures well.
…and I dreamed I was flying…
summer sky sings
away shadow music
into gardens of sealight–
daydreams shining beneath
an enormous jeweled sun
The Oracle gave me a sunny day. I needed it.