IF-Match

Every man who is acutely alive is acutely wrestling with his own soul.
-D.H. Lawrence

SS-Who else could I have been?

When M and I lived on Crete we were part of a circle of friends with whom the "anarchist" priest, Papa Michalis sat at the Taverna. Papa paid for drinks. The men got wine. The women got coca cola. I wished I was a man on the nights that he joined us.

One night Papa asked us if we had children. We said no. This is out of the question for the Greeks. He said "why not?" Rather than explaining that we chose to wait, M replied: We cannot afford it.

The next thing we knew he was firing off orders in greek to Kostos. Kostos had that beautiful sheepish grin on his face as he related: Papa wants M come to his church tomorrow. He wants you become a priest. You can take over his church when he is gone so that you can give your woman a child."

M declined his proposition. And Papa shook his hand next to his ear. The subject was forever closed.

We often talk about, what we call, Our Decent Proposal. Especially in deep winter as we sit land locked, far from the blue sea that we so love.

More images of Papa's museum. I love the courtyard.

http://www.kreta-sun.de/umgebung/MuseumAsomatos/Museum-Asomatos.html

Love Heals

My Yoga teacher and friend, Milissa,works weekly with P.

She is a great healer and P adores her. She calls her "My special friend."

Milissa is also an accomplished writer. She wrote a memoir of her time with P. It is the first time that I saw my daughter's illness and our journey through the eyes of another.

I am deeply honored that someone has taken the time to put forth in words what is too buried for me to address with that part of my brain.

Here is a painting for you sweet Milissa!

SF-Creative Roots

Sam Tchakalian (1929-2004)

I've known for a long time now. Sam died. When I found out I wanted to call Paris and tell Dana. I wanted to find Gary and pull him out of his secret hiding place. I wanted to scream from the rooftops. But mostly I wanted to cry.

He was a major influence on many young artists. He badgered and pounded, he smiled and pouted. He got down on the mat and fought with people. He wasn't interested in style, or anything close to fashion. He only demanded one thing: Conviction. No one has come through Sam's teachings without that word ringing in their ears.

I was one of those lucky people. He encouraged me. He helped me believe in myself as an artist. I am forever in his debt.

IF-Capture

The houses I had they took away from me. The times
happened to be unpropitious: war, destruction, exile;
sometimes the hunter hits the migratory birds,
sometimes he doesn’t hit them. Hunting
was good in my time, many felt the pellet;
the rest circle aimlessly or go mad in the shelters.

-George Seferis

Don't mess with my girl!

Before the Flood

A rainy day today.
Reminds me another rainy day,
far distant,
before the floods washed us away.