from you tube to yours

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPoK1lryfh4

The above link will lead you to a little piece of the 50s jazz pie, courtesy of Charles Mingus.
Much love,
Zmz

P.S. Jenny, if you happen to read this, look for sumas bignose on the book of faces. She has returned.

a little something

There comes a time in an intimate relationship between two human beings when, well past the honeymoon, and after frustration and doubt have faded to whispered memories on the edge of unconscious minds, time itself begins to surge forward while appearing at each moment standing stock-still. For better or worse, this new era in the two lives hardens them into one sublime existence. Familiarity is said to breed contempt, but complacency is another child of the union. How the relationship decides to nurture its infants in the ensuing period of time becomes its prime concern.
The halting, rushing nature of time is at once astonishing and terrifying, offering boundless possibilities and absolute deadlines. The united beings have achieved a new kind of adulthood, regardless of what has led them here. This is especially so if, regardless of the sexual nature of the people, child rearing is involved.

Mer and Jim have begun to call one another Momma and Daddy. There are more and more moments in their life together that see them in such plumage. They never suspected that they would arrive here, and yet, here they are.

bugs

I like bugs. I miss their easy society in the cold winter months. If I were a bug I would want to be an ant: not for the work-load but for the aesthetics, the look. Male ants, so I've heard, exist only to make larvae with the queen of their colony. I would not like this, shocking as it may seem to any hot blooded human male. I would not miss insect society were I an ant, even a female one. I would long for winter when the work would have to stop (in the higher latitudes at least). But, as a human, at that time of year, I miss them. Is that sadistic?

meandering thoughts revised

The heavens can teach us about things like the space between one thing and another, the distance between our perceptive capabilities and what is. Observation brings new interest in life and inspires thinking. Without thoughtfulness, instincts overwhelm and "what is" loses some of its meanings.

Think of instincts as the mechanics of self-sustenance in the face of impending death.

With death, a new cycle or new part of a cycle for that matter that we once were. It is not all negative, it spurs living things onward.

If a god moves to pick its nose does a universe full of stars come undone? That nagging idea of the Big Bang being just another small atom of something larger.

Sub-creation: Art: making something novel from observable bits and pieces we can hobble together. Creation has happened, or is it always happening? If the latter, then our art is part of it. Still, new things cannot be created... but old things can be reshaped. Can human beings be true creators? Or only breeders and alchemists, a catalyst in the larger, on-going Creation?
The Creation is the forward flow of time, or it creates this flow, or it is the result of this flow....
Both are undeniable to the senses. We are fixed in the flow of Time and Creation but our alchemy or art can allow the miming of stepping outside Time and mortality.