I love this line from the beginning of Peter Sloterdijk's Bubbles: Spheres I  [Semiotext(e), 2011)]:

"The limits of my capacity for transference are the limits of my world." (13)

Gotta wonder what Ludwig W. would have thought of that.

There's a list poem in this.  Just don't know that I want to write it.

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Thunder.  The weather folk speaking of day after day of rain.

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Picked more raspberries this afternoon.  There are few things that make me happier than a bowl full of raspberries from our back yard.

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Was looking at a catalog of Edward Hopper's drawings this afternoon.  I love the magic that can come from a pencil.  There's something about the power of degrees of shading that I don't know how to articulate--tonalities of dark and grey.

This is not unrelated to my obsession with shadows.

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Eileen Tabios' recent post about the haptic drawings of Jean Vengua is inspirational.

Jean's one of my favorite poets.  That she can also channel what I think of as graphic song is crazy beautiful. Kudos to Steve Vincent for inspiring her with his own inspirational drawings.

I'm tempted to pick up a pencil myself.

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Actually, I've just put down a pencil that was used to underline the quote which began this post.