Tuesday, January 30, 2007


All year the flax-dam festered in the heart
Of the townland; green and heavy headed
Flax had rotted there, weighted down by huge sods.
Daily it sweltered in the punishing sun.
Bubbles gargled delicately, bluebottles
Wove a strong gauze of sound around the smell.
There were dragon-flies, spotted butterflies,
But best of all was the warm thick slobber
Of frogspawn that grew like clotted water
In the shade of the banks. Here, every spring
I would fill jampotfuls of the jellied
Specks to range on the window-sills at home,
On the shelves at school, and wait and watch until
The fattening spots burst into nimble-
Swimming tadpoles. Miss Walls would tell us how
The daddy frog was called a bullfrog
And how he croaked and how the mammy frog
Laid hundreds of little eggs and this was
Frogspawn. You could tell the weather by frogs too
For they were yellow in the sun and brown
In rain.

Then one hot day when the fields were rank
With cowdung in the grass the angry frogs
Invaded the flax-dam; I ducked through hedges
To a coarse croaking that I had not heard
Before. The air was thick with a bass chorus.
Right down the dam gross-bellied frogs were cocked
On sods; their loose necks pulsed like sails. Some hopped:
The slap and plop were obscene threats. Some sat
Poised like mud grenades, their blunt heads farting.
I sickened, turned, and ran. The great slime kings
Were gathered there for vengeance and I knew
That if I dipped my hand the spawn would clutch it.

--Temple Cone

Saturday, January 27, 2007



Wednesday, January 17, 2007

:: HOLGA No5

Sunday, January 14, 2007


Thank you.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

:::::::::::::::::: 218

Landscape [Reversible]
Latex w/rug
2006 Monoprint

It was walked on and over, kicked around, ignored, and picked up off the floor by its tender little threads. This type of reaction by art patrons was not what I expected. I need to sincerely apologize to the young woman who gently picked it up off the gallery floor--neatly folded it; patting it gingerly as she extended it to me. I thanked her. She was clearly apologetic after I explained that it was just a funny part of the art exhibit. I was just as embarrassed as her by this reaction since I felt as if I had just played a trick on some unsuspecting person. [Note to self] tether rug to floor

Thursday, January 04, 2007


photo by Spice House
Wauwatosa, WI

~THE alchemists of fine spice