Target shooting this morning, indoors at my favorite range – going with my favorite girl and my favorite pistol. The inspiration for Guernica was laid today in typical bloodbath inspirational fashion.
One of my favorite paintings – another one would be Van Gogh’s wheat field with crows painted shortly before his death – arguably his final painting.
This weekend there will be a family reunion of sorts in NC – memorializing the death of my very good friend and confidant – Aunt Kathryn. I’ve two siblings – A brother (an Actor of Theatre Undreground fame (yes, that is the spelling)) and a sister of Denver Co. Vet tech profession. She will be going while I am sure my brother will be home holding down the fort of my fathers business.
one and a half days there only and I wish death had better timing that we (K, Jackson and I) could spend more time.
I’ll be doing a reading of the last poem I sent to her and the last paragraph of the letter the poem was sent in. I still am unable to properly quantify the loss as I continue to write her letters that I am unable to send. They will be hand delivered to her in Heaven should I be able.
the poem to be read:
the artist dreams of nightsong and thinks of his paintings
– For Aunt Kathryn
I wish the birds would sing
in the middle of the night
in winter,
though the windows are never open.
I wish the birds would sing in winter
though I stoop to pet a plant
inadvertently knocking over a light fixture.
I wish the birds would sing
in the middle of the night,
lights low, the party over
and missing every painting I’ve ever sold.
I wish the birds would sing
in the middle of the night
in winter,
though purple flowers want their bloom
– Jhon Baker
I’ll later post the ending of the letter but as of now I am intertwined in memory and bereft with melancholy.
the platitudes of willful resemblance 