Hope High

Hey, I'm starting to learn, after my first fulsome day on the epic-illustration job, that there are phases of litwatchure, psychic implications, imponderables, sub-rosa subtics, which do not carry over so simply into glossy 3x5s (or whatever you call them now).  There be layers of irony and unintentional irony in Stubborn Grew, stretches of lost blab, unplaceables(?).

Welcome to Providence!  Every location is infinitely deep.  But the soul is even deeper - who can plumb its diversions?

You can, by golly!  That's why we have blogs!

Here be another proto-squawk from 1st chapt of Stubborn Grew.  God does not play dice with Eurydice.  Perhaps they rehearse violin duets?  Look there, through the chain-link fence - find the golden ring!

All's in play on the playing fields.

from Shakespeare's Head :

16

We were standing in the middle of the baseball field. 

Hope High School field.  A plateau, blue panels

of Providence afloat under the sundrenched wells

of sky.  I called your name – you turned again.  Smiled.

Black hair veiled your face.  Black sweater, black 

pants, black sunglasses over your eyes.

You bent your head sideways

and waved me off – a wavering stick

of blindness – dancing on your toes a moment 

in the middle of the field – of all

that brilliant sunshine.  Well

of the sky.  Wells up the fountain.  Surging, bent

over.  And over.  I can't go on, 

or write any more.

Athletic fields behind Hope High School