With the local Coyotes
The older ones start it all…
Just after a human siren passes and causes, or at least provokes, the whole messy cacophony;
Then, the younger ones yelp in and on-endlessly!
Not knowing when to stop, or what’s alarming them.
I suppose it is all started by some emergency
We have, and how we signal one another so loudly.
But it all ends in this frantic yelping into the night…..
Which recalls all our laments,
And our common howls together.

Each year, some darker than others, at least
The flowers still have faith
And in between seasons, or dark and light, or death and life, unlike us, they
Lean towards bloom—even in Winter’s darkness-they bend towards light.
Living hope is their homily they preach in silence and waiting.
May we also know.
For Their expectancy is
What we need to borrow.

Each year, some darker than others, at least
The flowers still have faith
And in between seasons, or light and dark, unlike us, they
Lean towards bloom—even in Winter’s darkness-they bend towards light.
Living hope is their homily they preach in silence and waiting.
May we also know
Their expectancy is
What we need to borrow.

This neighborhood we often stay in has many wild coyotes….I often record them. A few observations:

With the local Coyotes
The older ones start it all
Just after a human siren passes and causes the whole mess,
Then the younger ones yelp on-endlessly!
Not knowing when to stop.
I suppose it is all started by some emergency
We have, and how we signal one another
But it all ends in this frantic yelping into the night…..
Which recalls all our laments.

A quote from Martin Buber on why he wrote his “ideas” about life in poetic form rather than as doctrine (most of the existentialist did the same, but also the religions!):

Poetry and art invite “encounter”. Unlike a doctrine which only addresses the mind, a poem or piece of art addresses more of the whole person, and engages it in order to “know” it.
Even the Bible (which Buber translated into German) is written broadly in stories and poetry, riddles and parables which invite us to encounter the reality of what it is trying to say. There are commandments on stone, but they are embedded in a story, and engraved in a people’s heart.The bible is not presented as a list of principles, it is rather an invitation to encounter the essence of its principles. This is done through art.
Life is an invitation, not a mere set of ideals. Life is meant to be actually lived that is. Encounter in wonder, love and thanks, in order to know what life is.

SIMPLY CIRCLES: an art exhibit of the work of DC—ie ak, me.

My upcoming art opening is entitled: “Simply circles”. It is about my love of circles, spheres and the cosmos’ musical notations in the sky and in the sea. Creatures and angels appear and disappear, but circles of glory remain and hover for us to enter into, and know Love’s music of the spheres. Plus, I just like circles, and musical notation.

It will also be a celebration of the existence of color as well, as I am in love with color. So dress color-fully! In the black and white times we live in, we need color! Glad for the gift of color. Let’s celebrate it.

The exhibit itself may also have some elliptical poetry readings, and my open books of sketches, as well as my prints and paintings.

We will make cosmopolitans to drink, as it seemed fitting, and we like them. They have joy, as does most of my work. A celebration of the glory of circles and interconnectivity.

Of course, this art opening will be completely in the round! Come around, you are welcome to explore the wonder of circles with us.

I’ve always been interested in what exist in the in between space—where the angels live. The mount of transfiguration, left me transfigured! I like it when heaven and earth touch and have a good conversation. Life occurs in circles—family, before that the womb itself, and then friendships and community. The stars and sea just remind us we are included among the circles. And the circus always occurs within a circle!

And each of us have “spheres” of influence in our lives, and radiances of glory. Life is circular in that way!

And it turns out the planets are also spherical. No squares in the heavens! And really none on earth either. Although sometimes, I feel like a square! There are no right angles in nature, as Art Nouveau proved already!

Anyway, come join us in the round, for this celebration of circles and all things art. I will send dates and location soon into the circuit. It will be held in The Duck Studios at our current residence in Austin, Texas (But may travel to Antwerp, Belgium in the future!). I will release dates and times soon, and circular invitations soon!

Keep making art friends, glad to have you all in my circle of life! O-fficial invitations to follow…

Living in sukkoth to recall the sweetness of honey:
Sukkoth, in judaism, is making yourself vulnerable intentionally to remind yourself of the reliance you have on God. And the fragility of life. We put up tents behind our homes and live in them for a bit to recall, our own and other’s vulnerability in life!
I feel we are doing that this season of our lives. We are not refugees-fleeing wars and unsafe spaces- we are immigrants. We chose to move in order to build a bigger canopy. In the meantime, we live in a creative tent, meant to teach us a pure reliance and expectant dependency, on what and who gave us life in the first place.
In other words, this season of my wife and I’s life is about learning to pray, while exposed to the elements! To lean in, and begin again. To recognize that everything in life is a gift. And as we expand our tent pegs to allow more campers and spiritual nomads in, that we are like vulnerable kids again.
Or, as Psalm 91 puts it, to shelter more fully in the shadow of the Almighty! And not rely on the world to protect and flourish us, but to return to relying only on God to be our home.
This is a good place to be in life!
The feast of tabernacles, we are in. In hope vulnerability and expectation, we are. We are not victims. We are blessed to choose to put ourselves once again beneath the stars and weather of our times in Hope that we will all come home again. We intentionally join the vulnerable displaced ones now.
Yet, there are strange griefs along the way, of being displaced intentionally. By choice, we move to a new in between space, in order to expand home for us and others we pray! You miss your home, when you live in a tent. Not just the comforts of home, but the feeling of being able to bless others from it (which is the point of homes). Yet…..
We are in Sukkoth in our lives, and enjoying the cold breezes which refine us, as we go! We are in sukkoth by choice. We threw ourselves into the wilderness, to recall the honey of the land!
But, we got to choose it, in hope that we will return home, and that home will expand to cover many! Thankful, for the gift of choosing exile today.
We are in sukkoth to recall the sweetness of the taste of the honey of home.

Weekend update on DnA, and our Art House Hermitage building project we have been working on for the last few years:

After running an art community for many years, we are finally building an Art House haven on our own lands! A place to store us and all our metaphors, and haven others to integrate their spirituality and creativity under one Big Top Roof!

As our building project progresses, a few things I’m thankful for:
Our landlady in our temporary new place, is a global interior designer, so she gets us.
This amazing lady, helped us on our last renovation, and travels the world finding treasures curated towards her clients! And she gets that we are particular about even doorknobs, and have restored this old house, and met all the previous owners, and kept their story honored while adding our chapters to it! 
We like novels and our house is novel.
Thankful for that this season as we build our art house monastic studio on our lands. This space will also serve our neighborhood with creative workshops, and haven other creative folks and friends.
This lovely landlord gets eccentric and our particularity. Or, as my grandmother used to say of me- he is peculiar, but special.
You gotta watch out for those peculiar special people. We ride the special bus, and work in mysterious ways!
Anyway, thankful today, for our interior designer who is now also our landlady! Artists need other artists to survive, and in our case flourish, and expand “the pleasant lines of our particular inheritance”!
And we are excited about the new art house we got to design and dream up, and now watching incarnate! Working with a great international team of architects, designers, and now contractors, who all are enjoying working on this “soulful” project. More to come on the DnA (Derek and Amy) saga, as it continues!
The only problem so far, is that contractors and builders really like early morning meetings-via zoom and in person. We will never be morning people—alas! And I tend to only like meetings that I can tell jokes in, which is hard on Zoom! Timing is everything in humor!
Also thankful that our window frames for the new build are coming from France, and are hand made! And we’ve met all the folks who make them!
I like integrating the metaphors from our story, as Amy and I lived in Europe for many years. Our house will be international (even the materials), as it is inside of us! A global art house, haven for us and other special ones who will come this way! 
And it’s always good to have a creative and Grace-filled landlord in the meantime! Today’s thanks! In troubled times, we have a good landlord!
Better than I can say for my nation. But that’s another topic.
Today, just thankful for kind and empathetic landlords who care about the stories we are, and the long narrative of this land we are temporarily tending!
I look forward to seeing this dream incarnate, and to seeing all those who come under this Big Top and get blessed farther into their names and journeys and freedom to be themselves.
We are building it, doorknob by doorknob, so that when they come, this magical and hopefully inspiring refined circus like space will be ready for them.
Building requires wisdom, and wisdom always thinks of what comes after you, and what came before, and how you can add your part of the story to The Big Story we all share a part in.
We are trying to write in Love’s ink, our few chapters well, and honor in both directions! Previous generations and future ones-all of whom, I’m sure we will meet again eventually! Wanting to honor them!
We have tried to listen deeply to all those who have lived here (we got to meet the girls-now elderly-women who grew up in this old house! And have their family’s hand written blessing on our wall!), and all those who will be havened here in the future. But also add our own weird eccentric but refined fine art twist in the long tale we are all living in.
Building with awareness of what came before and what will become after, is the only way to go!
Thankful to be given the gift of tending the long story, and adding our touch to the long tone of it. Let’s hope we continue to do it with Love’s listening ears, and with Grace and kindness, as our landlady has shown us.
Because, I suppose, we are all temporary landlords while here.

Having been with many people and animals in their crossing over past death….

When the breath of life, goes out………nephesh
It is not a soul returning to some unseen space (as Plato presumed), it is a life which continues-a name, an oral story spoken by God
Always remembered before it knew itself.
Each creature’s identity is eternal. My Veterinarian said to me,
As I put my dog “down”. Do we really go down and up?
Nothing really dies. He said. Ok.
We grieve though, because it’s sad when the breath leaves the body-that is when we deflate our great temporary balloons.
Or when a bird can no longer sing here.
When the wind of the tune of music leaves the party. We grieve rightfully forsaken by loss, as part of our art of crossing over. With one another.
(A blessing in both directions!)
But the Wind keeps blowing despite us. And the music never ceases.
Each of us, eternal poems worth reading forever-out loud!
With breath between our lines. Selah.
And living hope in our lungs, as we lunge across
That unseen finished line towards what we always all were all along.
And Our bodies get taller and more themselves, in crossing!

What cleaning sinks teaches:

Every day, I have to clean that sink
Damn that sink—be clean already
Until we know Love.
Who washes us all clean forever.

And what did you leave this world with?
A tiny notebook with one good poem….
Lots of friends
And no enemies.
Well done.