Wednesday, September 25, 2013

July 4, 1922 – September 25, 2013

Laura Michaelian
(Laura Carolyn Claus)

July 4, 1922 – September 25, 2013

Photo taken July 4, 2002, on Mom’s eightieth birthday.
Down from the refrigerator, flowers (yes, and she is one) still in a bloom.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Saturday, September 21, 2013

I set sail not because

I set sail not because it is a kind sea,
or an angry sea, or a beguiling sea,
or a wise sea, or a blind sea,
or a lonely sea.

For the sea is none of those things;
and the sea is all of those things.

Know, rather, that I set sail
because it is the sea,

and because I have sailed
all the days of my life,

and the sea has borne me so well.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Canvas 309

Why so many drawings? Because I believe in them
in the same way I believe in the characters I’ve written:
they live lives independent of my own.

This, despite the fact that they are all
just facets or versions of myself:
journal entries; self-portraits;
dreams I don’t recall.

And that is just part of it.

Canvas 309

September 19, 2013

[click to enlarge]

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Friday, September 13, 2013

A tale for those who sleep

1 Upon waking, God said,

I had the most terrible dream,
that of my man’s body,
and of my woman’s body,
were born —

             Shh — quiet now, and rest.

But, to think what I have done... I must atone.

             Fear not, it is not real.

2 And he thought, feigning calm,

Whom, then, to tell?

3 An apple fell, ripe on the fertile ground.

4 Gathering it unto himself,

5 Gathering it unto herself,

6 Gathering it unto all,

7 God embraced the fall, and said,

I will comfort you.

            Shh — quiet now. Shh...

8 And again God said,

The children from their beds,
looked out in wonder at the stars.

            Dear old fool, his mind is gone.

9 But the light — child, the light — still glows.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Canvas 305

Canvas 305

September 11, 2013

[click to enlarge]


The lines in my face
have suddenly grown.

The reason being known,
what’s left but to love
the story they

Saturday, September 7, 2013

City Lights

A bend in the street, wet from the sea,
was the necklace she wore.

He followed it home,
one sweet light at a time.

He paused at the shore:
a faint cry, nothing more.

No face, but night, at his door.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Wednesday, September 4, 2013