YEAR OF THE PIG

Photo by S. Auberle

In the Chinese Zodiac, this is the Year of the Pig. and not just any pig, but the Golden Pig, which occurs only once every six hundred years. It is considered very auspicious and lucky to be born in this year.

In all my photos and photo files, I do not have a pig--not auspicious. So the above photo of one of those wonderful little Italian markets has nothing to do with pigs, other than the fact that there is hanging in the window those also wonderful Italian hams, which is not auspicious for the pig. (Had to stop writing and look up "auspicious" to be sure I understood the meaning--yes, it means lucky, positive, fortunate, etc.)

So, if you were born in 1995, 1983, 1971, 1959, 1947, 1935, 1923, or 1911, you must celebrate! Most likely, if you were born in 1899 or back, you are dead. Except for Olive Riley, born in 1899, who has the distinction of being the world's oldest blogger. All of the above information is courtesy of Jeff Eertmoed and Eric Shackle on the Wordsmith website, http://wordsmith.org which, by the way, is always fascinating.

If any of this seems to indicate I am making fun of or am a non-believer in astrology, absolutely not so! I myself am a Horse in the Chinese Zodiac which, while being a beautiful animal, does not have quite the sterling characteristics of the Pig: intelligence, honesty, strength and fortitude. Which is probably why Olive is still out there, blogging away.

GO OLIVE!

- mimi

SNOWBOUND

Photo by S. Auberle

snowbound

alone

wine

fire

pizza

chocolate

such

fine

company

- mimi

CALLIGRAPHY

Photo by S. Auberle

...surely the strange beauty of the world

must somewhere rest on pure joy.

- Louise Bogan

STUDY IN BLUES

Photo by S. Auberle

"You have to fall in love

with your future."

- George Burns

(and he lived to be 100!)

"He not busy being born

is busy dying."

- Bob Dylan

"You will do foolish things,

but do them with enthusiasm."

-Colette

NO HALO

Digitally enhanced photo by S. Auberle

NO HALO

Not supposed to write poems about angels,

so my writing teacher says,

no sunsets, roses, rainbows, doves.

Hard realism, he says,

but I like angels:

grievous, fallen, tarnished,

those flying too close to the ground,

Virtues, Dominions,

the Thrones and Principalities,

Cherubim and Seraphim

the quirky ones,

those hunky warrior types.

I love them all, like this one

I found today in my favorite

second-hand shop on the shelf

marked "damaged goods."

Serene, exquisitely so,

and I could find nothing wrong

until I turned her upside down

and read on the base

angel with no halo.

Our eyes met, celestial bells chimed

as two kindred souls embraced.

She knew me, I tell you,

and she was the angel

I'd been searching for all my life:

serene, with a sense of humor,

yet full of hard realism.

Whatever she'd done

to lose her halo, it was nothing

I hadn't done too, or at least

seriously considered. Damaged goods,

who isn't?

- mimi

THE ART SPIRIT

Photo by S. Auberle

"I think the real artists are too busy

with just being and growing and acting

(on canvas or however)

like themselves to worry about the end.

The end will be what it will be.

The object is intense living, fulfillment,

the great happiness in creation."

-Robert Henri

The Art Spirit

VALENTINE

Photo by S. Auberle

VALENTINE

"There is a crack in everything.

That's how the light gets in."

- Leonard Cohen

There were times through the years,

love, I thought my heart would break.

Times it felt rough around the edges

and since I wear it out there, melting

on my sleeve, you always knew,

while your heart was (mostly)

tucked away, steadfast and quiet,

though once I saw it naked in your eyes

and didn't we both expect perfection:

that your heart would always

speak when I needed it

and that mine would hear

all your unspoken words?

Maybe growing old is just learning

to cradle each other's heart in our hands

like broken baby birds

or snowflakes melting in fists of light.

- mimi

THE ELEGANT UNIVERSE

Digital photo by S. Auberle

"I have long thought that anyone who does not regularly gaze up

and see the wonder and glory of a dark night

filled with countless stars loses a sense of their fundamental

connectedness to the universe."

- Brian Greene

The Elegant Universe

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's only a little planet, but how beautiful it is."

- Robinson Jeffers

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"If the stars should appear only one night in a thousand years,

how would man believe and adore."

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

GOODBYE

Photo by S. Auberle

Sitting here this morning in my favorite cafe, people streaming in bundled tight, into a warmth of woodstove, coffee, scones, soup. I wrap my hands around the thick white china mug, smile at the little plates that say Paris with the Eiffel tower painted on them. The owner, Joel, is French. The stove blazes away in front of me. This is where I love spending a Sunday morning writing.

This is where it doesn't feel so bad to think about yet another member of our high school class gone. We were only a class of forty-two, and the bonds between us are still tight and real. With each member's passing we all feel the cold a little deeper, feel a little more lonely. And now Fred, crazy Fred is gone. Way, way too soon. He'd retired not long ago, still with the love of his life--Karla, still loving his life.

I remember one day that sticks in my mind--young Fred, young me, a convertible, a summer day, beer (we drank a lot of it in those days) laughter, sun, our whole lives stretching out there into infinity, like the road ahead. How could it be over so soon?

The only comfort is that, from the hometown obituary, it sounds like Fred had a good life. That he loved Karla to the max, his kids, fishing, camping in the northwoods. For all we know, he may be doing that right now--wherever the hell he is. And I gotta believe that he's somewhere. And that our class has this big Fred-shaped hole in our collective heart for a reason.

Rest in peace, Fred, and hoist one for us...

- mimi

RED

Venetian painting, artist unknown

RED

like the rising sun

like the resident fox

like a ladybug

crawling slowly

across a warm floor

like the tops

of cedars

in evening light

like Lucia's rose

like apples

like wine

red is

lusty

sensual

all the handsome

things in life

like a rosy ripe pear

like rowan berries

Otto's poppies

like the cliffs

at Sedona

old barns

the fresh paint

on my wall

red my heart

my blood

the fire in it

planets

in a certain light

red the dress

worn the night

I first said

touch me

and you did

- mimi

WINTER

Photo by S. Auberle

deep in winter woods

pileated woodpecker

laughing at my fears

- mimi

SEASONS

FEBRUARY

Photo/Collage by S. Auberle

In the wintery darkness of February, new growth is beginning to stir beneath the frozen ground. Just as plants grow in the darkness, unnoticed, so do our souls continue to grow, even though we may not see the progress day by day. One day we will awaken, and our leaves will lift out of the darkness and touch the sky.

- Joan Borysenko