Sentient in San Francisco – 18 April 2019

Contemporary British Art – Christos Tsimaris: Part I of II.

Below – “distortion”; “reflection”; “hybrid”; “a film star.”

A Poem for Today

“The Cranes, Texas January”
by Mark Sanders

I call my wife outdoors to have her listen,
to turn her ears upward, beyond the cloud-veiled
sky where the moon dances thin light,
to tell her, “Don’t hear the cars on the freeway—

it’s not the truck-rumble. It is and is not
the sirens.” She stands there, on deck
a rocking boat, wanting to please the captain
who would have her hear the inaudible.

Her eyes, so blue the day sky is envious,
fix blackly on me, her mouth poised on question
like a stone. But, she hears, after all.
January on the Gulf,
warm wind washing over us,
we stand chilled in the winter of those voices.


Contemporary British Art – Christos Tsimaris: Part II of II.

Below – “her story”; “Max with Charlie”; “kaz”; “bulls.”


Musings in Spring: Rachel Carson

“A rainy day is the perfect time for a walk in the woods.”

Contemporary Danish Art – Per Anders

Below – “Baywatch”; “Let’s Harvest Some Gold”; “Living at the Bay”; “Nordic Light”; “Pinot Noir.”


A Poem for Today

“Portraits”
by Mark Irwin

Mother came to visit today. We
hadn’t seen each other in years. Why didn’t
you call? I asked. Your windows are filthy, she said. I know,
I know. It’s from the dust and rain. She stood outside.
I stood in, and we cleaned each one that way, staring into each other’s eyes,
rubbing the white towel over our faces, rubbing
away hours, years. This is what it was like
when you were inside me, she said. What? I asked,
though I understood. Afterwards, indoors, she smelled like snow
melting. Holding hands we stood by the picture window,
gazing into the December sun, watching the pines in flame.


Contemporary British Art – Michael Alford

Below – “Victorian Gothic 4”; “Mare Nostrum 2”; “Nude/on White 5”; “Cannaregio, Late Evening”; “Seated Nude/Crimson & Turquoise Fabric 1”; “Law Courts/Winter Evening.”

This Date in Literary History: Born 18 April 1915 – Joy Davidman, an American poet and author.

“Endymion: I Had Prayed to the Distant Goddess”
by Joy Davidman

I had prayed to the distant goddess all that while,
With the mad wish that Deity would bend,
Stoop to the level of a human love.
And that clear distant silver would not heed
Desire, imperious in its rule of me,
But rode the night down with her pack of stars.

And I knew that I dared the undefied,
That this most magic of the mysteries
Was not as fireflies to catch and crush,
Nor even as the mocking light that lures
A vain pursuit, but was beyond pursuit,
A far-seen vision, throned upon a cloud.

Then the moon answered and came down to me.
Oh — I had lain for many nights and sighed
Because she was no nearer, though I knew
The moon was brighter for the distance. Now
She has come down, the years’ dream has come true.
A silver shadow floating above my head,
The cold white moon dissolving in the air,
And dripping liquid silver through the pines,
Till it surrounded me in silver dew,
All of the brightness soft within my arms.

Yet she was magic, high above the pines,
Being divine and unattainable,
And white-serene, while I looked up at her.

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