Bird Cloud
Lyonel Feingener(1881-1956)
American Artist
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Bird Cloud
Lyonel Feingener(1881-1956)
American Artist
Walking on the land or digging in the fine soil I am intensely aware that time quivers slightly, changes occurring in imperceptible and minute ways, accumulating so subtly that they seem not to exist. Yet the tiny shifts in everything -- cell replication, the rain of dust motes, lengthening hair, wind-pushed rocks -- press inexorably on and on.
Annie Proulx, Bird Cloud
I meant to post this like a week ago but look at this cloud!! bird cloud! I tried very hard to not crash my car while taking this photo
Jack Kerouac nailed it when he wrote of "that horrible homelessness of all French-Canadians abroad in America."[1] There was one year in my life when I lived in Montréal, and several when I commuted there from Vermont to graduate school, picked up a little joual, became familiar with the flat riverine landscape and the shapes of faces. Years later came a weekend in my life when I went to a gathering of Franco American writers on an island in Maine. As I walked into the room I was slammed with the shock of recognition. Here were non-Anglo people, people with familiar lineaments, with long fingers and slender bones, with dark eyes and hair certain ways of moving and gesturing. Tears came to my eyes and for a little while I felt the curious but lovely sensation of being with the home herd and fantasized moving to Québec, Montréal or the Gaspé or Montmagny. But by then I had been too long in solitude, to anglicized for the joy to last. [1] Jack Kerouac, letter to Yvonne Le Maitre, a critic-journalist who wrote for Québec publications, September 8, 1950. I am indebted to David Plante for the quotation, and to Isaac Gewirtz of the New York Public Library, who tracked down the source.
Annie Proulx, Bird Cloud
firebird cloud
And another... the willow bends with them, it knows they’ll flit away soon.
Birb cloud. Noisy, too...