sweet sarah sighing

I think of her and prepare to weep.

She's right, you know.
A good hour and twelve precise minutes of pre-dawn clarity for whatever that's worth and then, too quickly, the world returns its lusty blustery frustrating gristing wrestling flexing and bending but so slowly ending ways.

4:48 Psychosis

Kane could have written 22:48:00 Psychosis since truly the one hour and twelve exacting minutes of sanity in a day requires the broadest tone-deaf tongueless accuracy one can muster. Details perceived - painfully clear interactions unavoidably read and real - words cannot bind them together faithfully.

The fragility of the ant thorax, no less amazing than ceaseless noiseless REM that fogs in the airport, shutting it and the town, hell, the entire tri-county region directly unavoidably down once Seroquel trickles into the fuel tank.

How do I go?
How do I go?
How do I go?

There was a film crew in Madison today working on the upcoming movie The Last Kiss (due out 2006). Apparently the film is supposed to be set here in town but they're cutting corners in their budget by filming spots and scenes here for building/product placement type stuff then they're leaving us with a flourish for some place in Canada where it's cheaper to continue the rest of the filming.

Ha. I say all this crap as though I'm somehow in the know. Honestly, I had no idea any of this was going on ahead of time, but got to chatting with blanketmates when KD and I arrived at our spread and I learned all these fascinating details. Before the Concert on the Square even began I was itching to leave our space and meander away where there were fewer people per square foot. So I broke away from the growing crowd up on the capital square to find the film crew folks in front of the City County building (on Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd, for those familiar).

Who knows, this scene probably isn't supposed to be v. funny ... Rachel's character says "but..but...Michaelll. MICHAEL!" and she runs off camera.

I know nuffink about filming but after she did the "MICHAEL! MICHAEL!" screaming, and then did it like 8 times more, again and again and again, it sorta started to crack me up. Audibly. And I would have gone to look for Michael if she'd just asked me.

papayas and people

"The magic is inside you. There ain't no crystal ball."
-Dolly Parton

THe Ninja Turtles never had such specialized sofa pillow shells Jordan and Dominick, archival edition circa 1993

Miaowy palm tree trunk detail.

Her baby's momma ain't the regular momma for this baby

On Sunday afternoon a friend phoned KD to relay some potentially exciting new news to me. She and another friend had apparently been discussing the bird picture I shot last week and he (the friend. Keep up with me here, willya?) was fairly sure that my mysterious unidentified oversized tweetering tot was, in fact, a cowbird fledgling much like the one pictured.


Check this out ... According to this article, cowbird mommas are nature's equivalent to a Las Vegas relationship. In, out. Bada-bing, bada-bang. She slips into another bird's nest to drop an egg into the bevvy of adorable pre-birds that the current nest dweller already has her haunches poised to fluff over with her warm belly feathers. Does it have to be a cowbird nest? HELL NO! Does she need much time? NO WAY!

Those critters are smart ... S--M--R--T. Letting someone else raise the babies, fill the flock, breeding bonanzas right and left. Meanwhile, there's a sparrow who could really use a ten week sabbatical or at the very least a Calgon soak, tired to the bone of feeding that supersized and oddly unfamiliar looking child of hers.

I've been scanning through web images of cowbirds, unable so far to make a positive ID on the coloring and pattern of the baby bird from my photo. But while I continue my searching, it sure seems a likely explanation that her baby's momma was a different momma with lots of babies and who knows how many daddies.

(And we think we need soap operas and docu-dramas to provide us our melodramadic fill?)

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature."

-- Helen Keller