Sunday, April 29, 2007


Photo by S. Auberle

The following is an article on a topic that much distresses me. Not only for its implications, but because of the horrifying way in which it shows, yet again, how egotistical man and science believe that the earth's creatures are less than us, that they are put here only for our use. I've read quite a bit on this subject recently, but in one short article this says it all. Please read...
"Bees are dying. Dying all across America. Lots and lots of bees.
Starting in Florida last fall, the great bee die-off has spread to 24 states. Whole colonies are dying. In Western states, commercial beekeepers report up to a 60% loss of their bees, with losses at 70% in Texas and on the East Coast. It's unprecedented.
Who cares? Well, few people realize that many of America's food crops--from almonds to watermelon--rely heavily on commercial honeybees for pollination. No bees, no fruit. One study finds that these bees pollinate every third bite of food that we consume.
Another little known fact is that bee pollination is increasingly a highly concentrated industry. Rather than a dispersed system of local hives, a few commercial operators now haul tens of billions of bees from coast to coast, trucking their hives in 18-wheelers.
"Colony Collapse Disorder," as it's now called could be the result of this industrialized model of pollination. First, the bees themselves have been bred into single-purpose super-pollinators, rather than bees with multiple functions (make honey, feed the queen, maintain the hives, and extend the species). The industrial bees have lost the diversity and natural traits of wild bees.
Second, constant trucking puts stress on the bees, suppressing their immune systems and making them vulnerable to viruses, mites and diseases. Also, as part of their forced migration, the bees are fed a limited diet of high fructose corn syrup--about as healthy as humans trying to live on Cokes. Other research is indicting certain pesticides and genetically altered organisms that have been artificially spliced into many field crops.
Once again, we have the heavy hand of mankind messing with Mother Nature in ways that come back to mess with us--big time. It's not just bees these food indutrialists are messing with--it's our food supply."
- Jim Hightower
For more information on Jim Hightower's work--and to subscribe to his award-winning monthly newsletter, the "Hightower Lowdown"--visit

Saturday, April 28, 2007


Mannequin photo by S. Auberle

"What would it take...
to bring the poor of the world
to the fiscal standard of living
of the rich?
Well, another thirty planets,
for one thing."
- Derrick Jensen

Friday, April 27, 2007


Photo by S. Auberle

In the world
things appearing to exist
will pass away one by one.
How long should I remain lamenting?
- Ryokan
The Zen Fool

Wednesday, April 25, 2007


Digitally altered photo by S. Auberle

Out beyond ideas
of wrong doing and right doing
there is a field.
I'll meet you there.

Monday, April 23, 2007


Photo by S. Auberle

There is not a single color hidden away
in the chalice of a which,
by some subtle sympathy
with the very soul of things,
my nature does not answer.
- Oscar Wilde

Sunday, April 22, 2007


Perhaps there are some out there who truly like wind. Perhaps it has it's poetic moments. It's certainly good for sailors. But I, for one, am so done with this wind. Try taking a 44 lb. child on a picnic with 44 mph winds and gusts of up to 60--we had to, literally, hold on to prevent him from blowing away! And, with the clear candor of a four year old--when we got back in the car--dust in our eyes, hair, clothes, mouths , he announced: Mom, I've got rocks in my teeth...

One good thing about living here, however--Billy Collins (the former poet-laureate of the U.S.--for you non-poetry types) blew into town yesterday, and read to a packed house last night, stopping only for the occasional (appreciated) train whistles roaring through the nearby downtown crossing.

And tonight there'll be a waxing moon hanging over the pines and the windbells will be still. Till tomorrow, when rain/snow showers are expected. The wind is picking up again as I write. Maybe I'll make a haiku out of it:

wind fills the canyon

raven riding an updraft

that old wish for wings

- mimi

Friday, April 20, 2007


Hotel Bellagio Conservatory - Las Vegas
Photo by S. Auberle

are we the parts
are we the whole
are we the thoughts
are we the soul
the parts of me
and this is true
the parts of me
belong to you
- The Who
Endless Wire CD

Thursday, April 19, 2007


Photo/Collage by S. Auberle

"The arts are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow."
- Kurt Vonnegut
" All art is a terrific bridge. The arts are not just entertainment. Music, paintings, words--they really speak to the soul, to the heart, to the spirit, to each and every one of us human beings and members of this one tribe...
- Julia Cameron
Art as a Way of Life

Wednesday, April 18, 2007


Digitally enhanced photo by S. Auberle

No, this is NOT the snake referred to in the poem, it's just
a photo I've wanted to post for some time, and
couldn't find something to go with it...
A tender green mist
embraces the aspen,
shyly, as if a frisky wind
might frighten it away.
The dandelions are a little timid,
a little scared that their yellow
is not yet bold enough.
Diving ducks don't care.
They're sturdy, brave
and efficient,
but the brown snake
wonders, as she watches me,
too soon? the grass
does not quite hide my passing...
Prairie dogs are scolding me,
racing back to their bumpy burrows
but I'm forgetting
the troubles of this world,
glorying in the snake,
the green mist, the yellow flowers,
this little Eden
of poetry and birdsong
and duckpoop
stuck to the ecstatic sole
of my shoe.
- mimi

Tuesday, April 17, 2007


S. Auberle
Doves are murmuring
under my eaves
this morning after tragedy.
Write, they're saying,
because there is nothing else
you can do.
Write, because it hurts,
sometimes, to breathe
the air of this world.
and when you come to the end
of words,
and think of wings.
- mimi

Sunday, April 15, 2007


Digital image by S. Auberle
I watch over
the spring night---
but no amount of guarding
is enough to make it stay
- Izumi Shikibu
The Ink Dark Moon
translated by Jane Hirshfield with Mariko Aritani


Photo/collage by S. Auberle

this strange tender time
we cannot make up our mind
are we old or young?

Thursday, April 12, 2007


Photo by S. Auberle

"You do not need to leave your room.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary.
The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked,
it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet."
- Franz Kafka

Monday, April 09, 2007


Photo by S. Auberle
a tale--partly about life
partly about revolution
and lots about hope
for adults and others
(including caterpillars who can read)
Words from a favorite book of mine from the
'70's--Hope for the Flowers by Trina Paulus.
Check it out, you won't be sorry...
- mimi

Thursday, April 05, 2007


Store window at Bellagio, Las Vegas

In 1925, back in Vienna, West Virginia, Harry and Margaret taught their son, Harry, who was eight years old, how to dye their special Easter eggs. The eggs were exquisite, ranging in color from a gleaming bronze to the palest orange and sienna colors.
In 1953, in Parkersburg, West Virginia, Harry & Cecilia taught their son and daughter, Bill and Shirley, how to make the beautiful eggs.
Over the years, Bill and Sharon colored the Easter eggs, teaching Matt, Greg, Laurie and David, in Vandalia and Barlow, Ohio; Denver, Baton Rouge and Chicago. Finally, on this Holy Thursday in 2007, Bill and I have decided to write out the directions for these unique eggs for all those children and grandchildren who, we hope, will carry on this beautiful tradition:
Cut out squares of white cloth, approximately 8" square. Wrap unboiled eggs in the papery brown skins of onions and then tie each wrapped egg into one of the cloth squares. Boil in enough water to cover, with one tablespoon of vinegar for each quart of water. Boil as you would cook regular hard-boiled eggs. Unwrap when done, let cool and rub with butter for a glossy look.
Who knows how far back this method of coloring eggs goes? Traditions are a beautiful thing--they connect us to all those who have gone before us and keep those memories alive.
A Happy and Blessed Easter to All...
- mimi

Wednesday, April 04, 2007


Las Vegas Poster

Up the mountain tonight
sun setting in spring colors
of yellow-flowered paloverde trees
and orange ocotillo.
Saguaro, city smog
fall behind in my mirror
as I drive north
past the Badass Barbecue Steakhouse
past tried and true pies
at the Rock Springs cafe,
where wind comes
roaring down the canyon.
Just Married cruises by,
groom slouched lazily at the wheel
bride with feet on dash and for a bit,
there is envy--sometimes
I'd like us to start over
...I think.
Cohen on the CD singing
Suzanne has touched
his perfect body with her mind
and didn't we all want that
the perfect body, the touching
those hot Just Married days
to last forever?
My ears begin to pop
as I climb and then down again
past the Runaway Truck ramp.
I wonder who uses it,
who makes that single set of tracks
down that unmarked road.
Just Married zips by me again
through the Verde Valley,
and we haul now, once more
up over the Rim,
no more runaways now
just that long, hard climb.
Twenty nine years you and me
still married. Tonight,
feed me tea and oranges, love.
Touch me.
- mimi