Monday, September 29, 2008

No, the other one

When I first went away to college, Seattle was still a small (affordable) city.
Where are you from?
Seattle. (blank look) In Washington.
Oh! Washington DC?
No, the other Washington. Washington state.

Thank you Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Microsoft.

Here are some photos of Capitol, the other one.

On Broadway (I'll let you figure out which one)--temporary art installations in (empty) storefronts at the location of the future Capitol Hill Sound Transit light rail station.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Squirrel Man is on Prowl

He walks the streets outside my window, dressed in black, carrying a bag. Today he carries an umbrella. He is always dressed in black. The amount of time he spends varies, but today he keeps reappearing, summoning his disciples.

The first time I saw him wandering, looking back and forth, I called out the window to him:
Are you lost?
No, I'm looking for squirrels.

He feeds pigeons and crows, too. Sparrows are hangers-on. But I always think of him as Squirrel Man. I wonder what his life is like.

Once I saw him on the roof of a brick building a block away, surrounded by a spray of pigeons. Usually, though, I see him on the street outside my window.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008


Monday, September 22, 2008

I want to speak without words

Friday, September 12, 2008

Sifting Sands

Life changes, right out from underneath us (sometimes several times a day). So do our thoughts. I'm now working part-time at a great non-profit and studying to get an MFA in creative writing, a labor of love, a gift I am giving myself. I bike to work on the Burke Gilman trail three days a week, 14 miles a day (and up one of Seattle's formidable hills!). This week has been beautiful biking weather.

Today on the way home I stopped in Gasworks Park and sat on the hill overlooking Lake Union. I haven't been up there in years. Bright light on the water, sailboats, seaplanes, kayaks, motor boats, bikers and walkers and natives and tourists and couples and families and individuals and friends flopped in the grass in the sun, readers and sleepers and sunbathers. A crazy guy using the hill as his pulpit. And me, feeling the earth tremble; part of grass blown by wind; troubles not so troublesome for a moment; small and brief my concerns, my life, but it didn't feel like something to grieve.

I've been having fun taking my new toy, the camera I finally bought myself, with me on walks. Didn't have it with me today, but here are some pics from other walks.