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Another River

I just wrote about Joni Mitchell’s River and the strange coincidences that seem to follow in its wake. Yesterday, Kate and I went the Des Moines Art Center. As we walked into the large installation room, I was talking with her about how I have trouble talking in large groups, how I don’t know when or how to take my turn, when I looked up and saw this on the ceiling, and it stopped me in my tracks and I just stood there, mouth open, gawking at the ceiling.

RiverIowa Artists 2018: Jen BervinRiver

Iowa Artists 2018: Jen Bervin - Des Moines Art Center

It was really striking, and it wandered and meandered across the contours of the ceiling. Both Kate and I struck off in different directions to trace it and see how far it went. We didn’t find the placard, so it wasn’t until I looked it up today that I learned that it’s a scale replica of the Mississippi. Pretty cool.

We Noticed

There are periods of history when the visions of madmen and dope fiends are a better guide to reality than the common-sense interpretation of data available to the so-called normal mind. This is one such period, if you haven’t noticed already. –Robert Anton Wilson

Should Be My Family’s Motto

As a rule we disbelieve all the facts and theories for which we have no use. –William James

Outward Writing Thinking

I’m apparently writing. I ate some food late, and while I was cooking, I was pacing. I was thinking, I was writing. I seem to burning a little brightly right now; that may explain the frustration. I guess. I’m not sure about that, but maybe the burning somehow

Blogapocalypse

It was a long bad day. I was going to write today. It had such promise at the start. Ideas were just bubbling through, and for some reason the wind has shifted. I write all the time, but it’s for me, for my journal. I have to fight to

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We Noticed

Should Be My Family’s Motto

Outward Writing Thinking

Blogapocalypse