Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Analect 2.464x



31 March 2009. Sun. Bud Light truck, silver blue on white, verging on gold in the sun, then cooler when turned away...

Time cover: "The end of excess, and why that's good for America." Aimee Semple McPherson in corporate dress, preaching from an orange box stand.

A narrow Asian girl in black and gray, fabrics from afar, with tennish shoes whose heels ride on springs. Cushion ride, like the emblem on the railroad car--goods and services, rolling on...

Monday, March 30, 2009

Analect 2.463x



30 March 2009. Wind at windows, night. Sun in the morning. Genteel young man from Pakistan, behind 7-eleven counter. Announcing change in precise, understated voice. Three Brazilian bolds, including one for Lolita, from copier repair. "A little sugar, a little cream..."

With Mansilla again, onset of dawn...

Friday, March 27, 2009

Analect 2.462x



27 March 2009. Jump start sun, flood of light, as befits spring. Glints and gleams...

Waters of Buenos Aires, un río sin fin. Figure of Quinquela Martín, abandoned as an infant in an immigrants' orphanage, note attesting to his baptism. Adopted at the age of six by Manuel and Justina Molina de Chinchella. At 14 attended "a modest night school of drawing," working by day in the family's coal yard. Stessini Piazetti Conservatory at 17...

The life of La Boca--paintings of the port. Zeneize...

"Vigor," "activity," "roughness"--the characterization. A subject and a treatment, taken almost for granted. The allure of daily life, even when reinvented entirely...

Lo pintoresco...

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Analect 2.461x



26 March 2009. Blue to blue, sun. Blurred contrails to the south, low over 7-eleven roof, crossing in shallow X like an ethereal flag of the Confederacy.

Day books and the best of intentions. Row of children's faces, enlarged in grainy black-and-white--Camp Cazadero banner on copyshop floor. Young boy's visage, hint of a smile, next to baroque cello scroll with ebony pegs, stand of trees just above.

Juan José Saer, from the town of Serodino, Santa Fe. La Universidad del Litoral--where he studied philosophy and law. Banks of the river, wide to the point of disappearance. "Sin orillas..."

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Analect 2.460x



19 March 2009. Olu Kai sky, here on Solano--pink tinges to the blue, cool wind down from the hills. Stocky woman at teller box, rubbing the back of her head while awaiting digital okay. Then an illegal diagonal in the direction of Starbucks, while I head for Peets--beans--no hard feelings, really, to the gang at El Cerrito--names slipping now, it's been more than a year, my daily trek to java line, with all the locals. Hong Kong gal at neighboring table, chewing the fat with older man in sport coat and tennis shoes...

Photo of Kitaj, appearing suddenly--daunting. En route to the Hammer, in 2007. His mop of hair, pure white, bent forward a little, walking with wooden cane. The cane hardest to fathom. Not the over-sized Vans--an Angelino, after all--but that long straight piece of wood--another contact with the earth.

With the students--his arm outstretched, lying on a Cuban daybed, young woman alongside, her miniscule skirt. An explorer...

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Analect 2.459x



18 March 2009. Insistent sun, no other choice, save for petals of pinkish-gray to the west. Sound of small car, old VW, caught in a glance, then a single call from a gull. La gaviota. Now again, also insistent, in her own way.

In her own way, mothering the world, leaning in to take his side--for the banquet meal. Settings arranged, well into the distance, against a wall draped in murky gold. All hotels the same--the porcelain, the heavy glass. A napkin folded just so--signature of the establishment...

Borrowed for an instant, like the breakfasts with Dad, at the Biltmore, before the clothing shows. Finnan haddie and other unexpected offerings, delivered on wide plates or silver trays. Covered, then revealed...

Mornings...

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Analect 2.458x



17 March 2009. Pale gray skies. White van bouncing slightly as it pulls out of 7-eleven lot. Quiet moon-faced woman preparing coffee--small blue individual container of artificial cream, then another. Her attitude one of care...

A market in Buenos Aires, somewhere near Constitución. 1961. Cobblestone streets and patches of earth, produce in fulsome array, stacked in wobbly wooden crates, leaves poking through into morning air. Onions and such, remembered only en masse. Hot morning sun illuminating the stones, the occasional dark puddle, pungent market smells, moldering scraps of this and that, returning to the earth in an appealing disarray...

Monday, March 16, 2009

Analect 2.457x



16 March 2009. Drizzle gray rain--mist of white against roan sky...

Buenos Aires. Embankment along a river--El Tigre, or the park above Nuñez, summer. Dark trees, quiet--something out of Antonioni, or old Rome herself. An ancient scene, in black tights and stretch tops--small hand held close to mother's waist, the other free, testing...

Reflections in gold-gray-green...

Friday, March 13, 2009

Analect 2.456x



13 March 2009. Wavering gray clouds, moments of sun, an insistent golden light from the east...

La Tempesta, Giorgione's standing figure, in attendence always, their lives intertwined in some unknowable way...

Her billowing hair, pre-Raphaelite frizz, long fingers, poise.

Oh don't you remember in yonder town
when we were at the tavern
I raised a health to the ladies round,
gave my heart to Barbara Allen...

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Analect 2.455x



12 March2009. Milky sky, hint of sun. Woman with wavy gray hair and soft brown leather bag slides into driver's seat of gray-green van. A Previa? But here I'm guessing...

Economy slides as well, stocks and bonds in their own brown leather, not so creamy smooth. Smell of cash, as when the register slides open and you see all the 20's. Abandoned chart of national expenditure: Pentagon and Iraq, more than half the pie...

Green, apples, as on the hillsides of Tennessee. Mountain City, that is. Worn cabin walls, a set of wooden steps that don't quite meet the ground. Clarence Ashley, bending in the breeze. Doc Watson alongside, young, solid, attentive. Gaither Carlton on fiddle--in his own world...

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Analect 2.454x



11 March 2009. Clear with lots of sun. Nicola's curled form at end of bed, head tucked in. 

Next to me now--Luca and his mom, energetic little boy with pale, questioning eyes. Photo prints of a house near the sea, white bench on rippled sand. Long shadows, late afternoon. 

Suchostaw, from an earlier time. Purim spiel, with Bessarabian gowns, their neatly folded sleeves in white, turbans and tunics to match. Elaborate strands of bead around a young girl's neck, bows at her ankles, gathered just so. Reflective pose--folded hands...

Always...

Analect 2.453x



Sun this morning, just won't quit. After long night...

Figure in a field, with trees just behind. Early. Poncho, mate galleta, sombrero santefesino... Blackened kettle on a small fire, boiling. Each element useful, known. Carried and true...

Monday, March 09, 2009

Analect 2.452x



9 March 2009. Cold wind gonna blow, clear morning sky.

Large girl in 7-eleven line, blondish, tailored brown polyester waist, sleepy eyes. Narrow faced man alonside, dark brow, fumbling with lips for coffee straw. Lotto cards and caffeine.

Yesterday, evening: grasses alongside a karst-built lagoon, to the south and east of Buenos Aires. Chascomús. A ring of juncales--marsh reeds--against slow waters, wider plains... Photo of young couple pressed close--their modern faces merged. Wrapped against the cold.

El Ombú...

Friday, March 06, 2009

Analect 2.451x



6 March 2009. Sunny and almost warm. A meteorological change of heart. Or respite, perhaps, storms for now dispersed.

To other climes? Barracas, Boedo, Constitución--where a langorous señora considers the day--the shifting light--a neo-realist swoon, Rosselini del sur (Roma città abierta, or maybe Paisà), the actors unquestionably non-professional--us that is--denizens of sidewalk and café. Pensive, porteños. Where a morning's paper can last well into the afternoon...

Al atardecer...

Thursday, March 05, 2009

Analect 2.450x



5 March 2009. Sun and gray, as always lately...

La gaviota--a gull from Armenia, portrayed in a Russian engraving from long ago. The penman's Cyrillic script--narrow and flowing. Long dress, with floral print, increasing in size as each blossom moves down. The boy alongside, also with flowers, in a small vase, held in his right hand. Feet tucked close in oversize shoes... Necessities...

"The Abbot Pafnuty put his hand thereto..."

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Analect 2.449x



4 March 2009. Sun peeking around flurries of rain, cold streets won't give up the storm... It's an attitude thing, like Wally Shawn on Brecht--"raw and ribald" says the playbill. His recent translation. "Let's say there's a word in German that is like "dourknop" that sounds like doorknob. Actually, it means betrayal. And it was a beautiful little idea of Brecht's that was trampled on by my mistake..."

Betrayals and mistakes--accidents, inadvertencies. A crow with a piece of bread--the crust, or rind--an orange rind, painted orange, in an act of solidarity--or was it identification? These things happen...

Attempting to get things right--the great hope. As if grace and elision could work their magic always.

Dark afternoon... Maybe just song...

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Analect 2.448x



3 March 2009. Lluvia sobre el mar. Lee, in three tones of violet, hood over hood, bending forward over dark green metal bin, crushing red can with booted foot...

Noticings. As with gruff plumber's face, stubble of shave, nodding ever so slightly as he pushes through the 7-eleven door. Or Pearl, with her endlessly picky requests--tone of voice--every question a minor-league challenge...

And so the day, as clouds roll in, sheets of rain, gray sky, white smoke...

Hope...

Monday, March 02, 2009

Analect 2.447x



2 March 2009. Low clouds over East Bay shores--looking down Fairmount into veils of oncoming storm. Gutters brimming, steady sheets at night...

Cangrejal, Güiraldes' vision, the Argentine, bleak lands nearing the sea, their marshy threat, described in full. Read in the middle of the night, rain...

Better Javed's face, over the counter early this morning, lined and tired after those same eight hours. Two coffees--French Vanilla or some such, black, with flimsy black lids--polypropylene, a modern muse.

Move on, move on, to higher ground...