recovering chitown and lions

the descent into chicago
came so long after the new year
even the chinese had celebrated
with dragons and fire cracked before then

and patti griffin sang
at the wonderful warfield
melodies ensconced in turmoil
and conditioning to a better mindset

i spoke with Livia
of the north brazilian ever summer
about medicine and politics
green energy, and metaphisics, and
of all things, scrapbooking

i retreated with the folks who pay all of my bills
about business ethics and policy
( as exciting as it sounds )
had damn good meals
Avec my sweet surprise
and time for myself
almost
and welcomed the return home
more than ever,
while it poured down around us
on the tarmack awaiting liftoff
( connecting in LA is a bitch
if you want something other than McD's for dinner
and when you're surrounded by twenty people
all waiting for the seat you hope for
everybody waiting for the same reasons
or for lack of a better idea )

SPRING is now upon us
and time rolled forward yet again
i am checking off my list so slowly

refinement comes with each passing day
my little lion cub made it through the fire safely

and he's no worse for the ware

in fact, he and all of his fine friends made of the earth will one day find cozy homes in appreciative hands and i hope they serve as only the beginning of a mastery over the challenge to mold life from clay and infuse it with my fusion of energy and spitfire; elbow grease & gen mai breakfast breaks. this is only the beginning of the centering of my long wandering soul. these small fragments of me take the precident of my heart and mind these days, and while nothing else suffers for it, long live my days as a ceramicist! Cheers to spring and the long days of summer that so soon lie ahead.

ps: my japanese maple has been reawakened and the little leaves sprouting are a sure reason to rejoice, two years and still kickin'... my jasmine strands winding melancholy through the deck rails all show many blossoms, fragrent and freshly alive to the moonlight.. it is a reminder of the house of Sir Frances, which Tess will remember well, awash in a wall of jasmine overlooking the heart of SF. This is where i left my heart too.. except i haven't left yet. Perhaps i never will, but that seems unlikely.