Author: L.E. Hansen

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The Dry Bones

On February 19, of this year in 2018, the official statement shall read: Had full knee replacement of the right knee. I find this incredibly fascinating. To think that another human being (along with some assistants) put something into the flesh and bone of another human being that will function better than the one being replaced. Imagine. Replacing joints. Replacing body parts.

It dawned on me after the fact, that I should have requested my replaced bones. I foresee that as being a bit of a problem but I’m willing to argue my way through. I’m planning this in advance as I know the left knee will also need replacing.

So. I offer this note and those to follow as a placeholder and explanation for rather abrupt and elongated silence of mine. I might have commented in advance but was uncertain of how much I should want to share. I’m sharing.

 

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Sometimes Peace

omwSgarden2

Old Woman’s Secret Garden

Tao&Zen

Tao & Zen

For this day and night, when everything is misted over and the whole world is silent. Here we say our prayers and understand what matters.

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Arizona

I love this! See the shadow of the cougar in the mountain?

Cougar

 Bill Busbee
SHADOW OF A COUGAR ATTACKING ITS PREY ON SUPERSTITION MOUNTAIN OCCURS ONLY TWICE A YEAR FOR 6 DAYS. 3 IN MAR. & 3 IN SEPT. APACHE JUNCTION. ARIZ.
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The Familiar

It is with a heavy heart that I must report THE FAMILIAR has been paused. There’s no denying the intense readership that showed up for this endeavor: bright, ambitious, inspiring, inquisitive, compassionate, rare, energetic, involved, brave, funny too, and most of all beautifully aware. Unfortunately, I must agree with Pantheon that for now the number of readers is not sufficient to justify the cost of continuing.

If there is solace, find it with her: Xanther remains our new storm, VEM’s as real as any sky, and Redwood depends on no book by me to harrow this world. Read well and live well, then you will love well. The rest is in the wind.

#thefamiliar#seasonone#beahymnforgood#markzdanielewski#houseofleaves#onlyrevolutions#thefiftyyearsword

thefamiliar

This is so sad. I wish he would go ahead and continue the writing anyway. But then writers need to pay the bills too. Maybe someday…

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Yes And But Well And Then

I wonder where I go sometimes when I go, and then return and look around in surprise. It is like that. It is like that now.

First, that is the first thought that an expanse of hardwood floor generates in some of us…the absolute need to take a running start in order to slide across in stockinged feet. Why else should there be the smoothness, the advance sense of the the feet as they touch the willing participation of the wood? [Of course ignore the cat which certainly does not belong there. It is obviously posed and to what purpose one wonders?]FMnHardwoodFloors

When something is posted online and the lead is: This will really break your heart, or Get the box of kleenex ready, why would I read it? Why would I look? I’m not going to open something that will make me heart sick. Why does anyone?

The world around us, the place where we live, is the construct for our moral behavior.  And in this place where we are merged within the many societies that make up our country (with firm boundaries and electric fences) some of the places are a wilderness of liquor stores and gangs and guns and drugs and broken churches. And then for fun someone will interview a very heavy-set woman who is saying that “she ain’t got no food to feed all her chilen.” Whose thoughts then would turn to her need for help?

All of them, all of them to one extent or another, enact the paradox of choices that are not choices, of courses of action that are indistinguishable in consequence from their opposite.

It looks as if there will be no revolution then after all. You see, this is what happens when we do without the narrative form. And it’s not a play either.

goldCampRoad

Lars Leber Photography

This is a photo of Gold Camp Road, Colorado Springs. We drove up there many times, especially to see the kinetic sculptures of Starr Kempp. Gorgeous pieces. Of course being dismantled and sent away somewhere as the villagers won out and they can no longer be displayed there. Too much traffic with people coming to view—causes traffic problems. The man himself, the creator is long dead now. There are family fights over who gets what and who did what and thoughts of destruction. Here is one of the pieces that was still there when I was. It was so incredibly exquisite with the wind moving the bird about. (I should have done a video!)

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And, so as the mice say, that’s the waaayyyyyy things are. At least for today.