Grit in the Gears

I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes. I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over. I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong. And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions. I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely. It's what we do.

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Past Archives

The view out my window, december 1981. The red-painted building is the pottery I was working at.

The same view, in august '81

A year later, dec '82, I was living in the second house along, I grew tomatoes in that porch, in the summer.

A Cabin, near the pottery.

1 comment:

red dirt girl17 February 2010 at 20:17
these photos are so picturesque ! don't you just love RED ???!!!

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