Category: Grand Avenue

Creating a moment

Sitting on campus by the rock garden outside of Olin-Rice. A couple has a professional photographer taking pictures of them with their puppy – or, on closer inspection, perhaps just a tiny little dog. It’s interesting to watch.

There is a bench just left to the stairs leading up to Olin-Rice’s north-facing door. Theyve spent a few moments over there as the sun passes in and out of clouds, going back and forth between blurry and broily. It’s humid. The dog’s tongue is visible from here

They are climbing down the small slanted bit of grass between the sidewalk and the edge of the building. The basement windows of Olin-Rice overlook a meager 1 or 2 feet of rocks followed by a wall of grass – from the sidewalk, you have to peer down to see that the windows do indeed have offices inside of them. The dog-couple and dog-couple-photographer are walking along this largely unappreciated stone track, using the shade to their advantage.  Maybe the photographer’s wide-brimmed hat is, well, to aid in their photography? I’m not sure.

 

As for me – 1/2way through a YouTube video on the pharmacology of lamotrigene. I’ve watched it before but this morning when I was making breakfast didn’t feel like I had properly memorized its contents, so here I am again. It’s downloaded on a flash drive so that I can keep an eye on it. sodium-gated ion channels!

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On today’s episode of crowtalker

16 dorks sitting in a tree across the street from CVS (across Fairview)

Saw them yelling up there from my spot on the Grandview Grille stoop. Came over here next to the NiceRide bikes to have a closer looked. We yelled at each other for a bit:

 

caw-caw-caw-caw-caw-caw: 6 caws, high-pitched, was came often

cawww-cawww-cawwww: 3 caws, longer/slower, deeper & more prounounced

3 or 4 of the screamers were really bouncing, & their torsos bobbing & bopping looked like they were heaving each caw with all their strength. Really neat to see. The eensy weensie ittie bittie branches atop the tree where they sat absolutely rocked as the screamers dedicated their entire abdomens towards crow-calling

After 10 minutes they all took off in unison, headed north/northwest. Fun stuff.

As I type this, I hear 3 more caws from a single crow. I look up – a pair of them have re-entered the eensy wensie ittie bittie branch zone

When I looked up just there, they left. For some reason I feel or expect that there should be more crows up there, lingering silently. Maybe there are but I can’t see them

 

Sometimes

you wonder who’s watching all these feelings

trillions of eyes glued and scrap-booked

sometimes you wonder if you’re the cup

or the spinning water, or the tea leaves.

you want to grab suffering by its weary shoulders, by its bus transfer, by its untied boots, by its exit wound, by its cinder-block cell. you want to grab the bloodied lovers, the shattered families, the eons of regret, and to tell them they are ok. sometimes you wonder if you could ever be that creative. you heard once that a dry-erase marker can erase a permanent marker. it should be impossible. but sharpie can be undone under one little condition: you have to draw over it first. sometimes you wonder if the world is the sharpie and if you’re supposed to be the dry erase marker and then you feel bad about yourself.

sometimes you wonder who’s spinning that dust in the air

floating freckling waiting to settle

sometimes you wonder if you’re the dust

or the air, or the nap.

 

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