silk clementines

photo: andrew bishop

About 8 months ago I started giving a talk that required clementines as props. Clementines were in season then, but I knew that if I wanted to be able to give the talk when clementines weren't in season I'd have to find artifical clementines. An internet search turned up exactly three silk clementines.

barbie and friend in the pool

photo: jetheriot

have you been to the ocean, barbie?

photo: jetheriot

underwater barbie

photo: jetheriot

rebecca still

from Hitchcock's Rebecca

photo: jetheriot

entering manderley

AFTER THE STARCHED white capital letters of the opening credits have appeared and disappeared over a sequence of black-and-white forest scenes decorated with whirling flutes, Hitchcock’s Rebecca begins in earnest. A full moon, tiny in the center of the screen, stands still as it’s sliced diagonally by charcoal strands of mist pulling the sky apart. “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.”

bird visit

photo: public domain



I had a conversation with a small green bird last night. Standing beside its cage with my arms behind my back like wings, I muttered low nonsense syllables over and over until the bird flew close to my face and whispered into my ear. This was not a dream.

saturday evening post

October 11, 1952

photo: jetheriot

carol channing on 33 1/3 at 45 rpm

balboa park

photo: jetheriot

dallas street preacher

carpenter park in boulder

photo: jetheriot

traffic light movie

photo: sebastien santoro

I stopped at the red light even though there was no traffic as far as I could see in every direction. The sun was about to come up, people were still asleep, and no one would know if I pedaled through the intersection, but I decided to wait, to enjoy the scenery until the light turned green. After all, I wasn’t going anywhere in particular. I was just kind of riding around. Aren’t traffic lights also part of the journey, a neighborhood sight as worthy as birdsong to behold and savor?

grackle and blue jay conversing

I sat on a bench in the park watching a squirrel chase another squirrel. Barking and squabbling, they raced clockwise around a small swing hanging nostalgically from the branch of a pecan tree. When they froze and changed directions, they kicked up a cloud of dust from the patch of dry ground rubbed grassless by swingers swinging. Up and around the trunk of the tree, then along the low branch from which the swing hung down, they played tag and coochie-coo simultaneously.

feathers collected in doll arm

photo: jetheriot

doll surgery

photo: jetheriot

She’s three feet tall and has a hole in her hip where her left leg used to be.