Cat Bones in the Flower Beds

I am anxious and impatient, so i’ve decided to stop waiting for technology to arrive at my doorstop, and start making things. Dear technology santa, please send help. In the meantime, here is a video poem, minus the poem. I can’t figure out how to add the sound just yet. The two pieces came together a few moments ago. Or at least they tried. Their future is uncertain. I was asked to write a “love” poem for an amazing raven, marriage ceremony, that I’ve just gotten home from. When I sat down to write  last night, all I could think about was this conversation I had with Peter. We were talking about art, how we make it, why we do. Peter thinks we make art to create the impossible, to make up for nature’s limitations. We are mechanisms for the impossible he said! I loved that so much. The images are from the garden, and a trip I took to an old gold rush town.

Maybe turn the sound off, and read the text out loud:)

What Peter Losh Said

“We are mechanisms

of the impossible,” he said.

“We can make horses fly!

We can do whatever we want!”

Peter, I agree with you!

Nature has its miracles,

sure. But we are designed

to make Art! To take mineral,

sun, night, to take earth, hurricane,

home, and put this together

somehow, streamline it.

Look at us moving

our perfect hands in the morning.

We collect the day,

stir the parts that impress us

the most, into a ruby pot

called purpose.

Isn’t it wonderful to discover

what we’re here for?

To make Love,

make Art,

to honor the Sun

as she finds her way

home again,

through the thick and pull

of the night.