A Tire Swing Story is a bite-sized "imagining" inspired by an object I discover while wandering. It could be a curbside trash gem or a message sprayed on a wall. A lost mitten, or an antique store find. Anything goes. I photograph the object and post them together, the story and its inspiration. There will be a new story every Monday and Wednesday. On Fridays, I'll discuss writing, life, love, and coffee. (In no particular order and maybe all at once.)
Monday, April 16, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Dear Brittany, Here's a poem for you, written by Jorge Luis Borges in his old age. He was going blind, but was trying to teach himself Anglo-Saxon so he could read Beowulf in the original. POEM WRITTEN IN A COPY OF BEOWULF At various times I have asked myself what reasons Moved me to study, while my night came down, Without particular help of satisfaction, The language of the blunt-tongued Anglo-Saxons. Used up by the years my memory Loses its grip on words that I have vainly Repeated and repeated. My life in the same way Weaves and unweaves its weary history. Then I tell myself: it must be that the soul Has some secret sufficient way of knowing That it is immortal, that its vast encompassing Circle can take in all, can accomplish all. Beyond my anxiety and beyond this writing The universe waits, inexhaustible, inviting. Wishing you a heroic voyage, John
Monday, April 9, 2012
Matthew escaped into the backyard, carrying the guitar. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and pulled out the package of Colt's.