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nobrashfestivity

MAEDA MASAO

Penketo Lake on Hokkaido Island, 1960

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driftforlife

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furtho

Great Depression-era Christmas card on recycled paper (via here)

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the back of this card:

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apoemaday

Finally, Some Concrete Career Advice

by Natalie Shapero

Don’t be an actor. God observes you violent in a scene and, thinking it is real, mistakenly adds you to Hell. This happens all the time. It’s like when I traveled across eight states in shattering pain to curl beside S as she left this Earth, only to later have a dream I’d instead stayed home eating fruit cups and sewing a patch on my jeans. I didn’t know a dream could undo a true event, uncement it, but it did — from then on, I hadn’t gone, and how do I live with myself now, I ask each day —

apoemaday

Love Poem

by Richard Brautigan

It’s so nice to wake up in the morning all alone and not have to tell somebody you love them when you don’t love them anymore.

apoemaday

It Was Like This: You Were Happy

by Jane Hirshfield

It was like this: you were happy, then you were sad, then happy again, then not.

It went on. You were innocent or you were guilty. Actions were taken, or not.

At times you spoke, at other times you were silent. Mostly, it seems you were silent — what could you say?

Now it is almost over.

Like a lover, your life bends down and kisses your life.

It does this not in forgiveness — between you, there is nothing to forgive — but with the simple nod of a baker at the moment he sees the bread is finished with transformation.

Eating, too, is a thing now only for others.

It doesn’t matter what they will make of you or your days: they will be wrong, they will miss the wrong woman, miss the wrong man, all the stories they tell will be tales of their own invention.

Your story was this: you were happy, then you were sad, you slept, you awakened. Sometimes you ate roasted chestnuts, sometimes persimmons.