nothing you can think that is not the moon

it's been a messy day here in marlinspike hall, deep, deep in the tête de hergé (très décédé, d'ailleurs). the mess has involved miscommunication atop fatigue, and the way back seems to be along introspective paths.

instinctually, i turned to my brother-unit tw, man and photographer extraordinaire. a superb brother-unit, too.

sometimes a sister needs a brother, needs a god.

please remember that while i steal with impunity from one of his blogs, American Idyll -- *you* must write and ask permission for any reproduction of his work.

the photographs that spoke to me today were published monday, december 7 and do bear remarkable semblance to moonscapes. at least, the moonscapes that *i* have seen.








i'd rather learn
from one bird
how to sing
than teach
ten thousand stars
how not to dance.
--e.e. cummings



there is nothing
you can see that
is not a flower.
there is nothing
you can think that
is not the moon.
--basho