Thursday, April 6, 2017


tavasz means spring in hungarian.  I don't know its etymology, but I know it's in there.  Just as I know in my bones that the spring deity is upon me here.

My family sat in the concert hall to watch the magic flute.  At intermission I hear magyar from the couple in front of me.  I ask them if they are hungarian.  It's an encounter I seek out nearly everywhere.

It's a touching.  Just enough said that quickens my step.

A flurry of creativity, in the wild mind as well as the loins, the center of being.  

Savor this, I say to myself, it won't last.  No doom in this.  Simply, I know heavier clouds and dust, and they return.

Shipping work off to NYC momentarily.  Show opens June 1 at George Billis.  

No comments:

Post a Comment