“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


Blue chairs & birdless skies

Another chair photograph. I'm not sure how I feel about the combination of white & pale, pale blue as the background, but it's growing on me. This chair sits in the corner of my bedroom, and was in fact the inspiration for a series of 3-d collages I started a while back. I finished one, called Sit, which I've posted here, and have never finished the others - I just keep redoing them. One in particular. It's all silvery & pearl colors, with black & white birds, and the reality is that I keep changing my mind about what goes on/in the altar (it's a small box), & that leads me to start changing the rest of the piece, and so it remains unfinished.

That's kind of the way I feel lately. Unfinished, constantly changing, unsure of what goes where. I slept poorly last night, tossed & turned even more than I usually do & dreamed & dreamed & dreamed & dreamed. It was exhausting & my thoughts are very scattered today. I keep thinking of the white doves who, until recently, resided outside the house behind us. I keep remembering the one dove who'd managed to escape her cage, but couldn't talk herself into leaving the area. She'd fly & fly & then return to sit outside the cage & visit with her 2 friends, still living their safe, cozy, predictable life inside. Their owner eventually made a perch for her attached to the outside of the cage & she'd snuggle up against the others, with the bars between them, and happily go to sleep. I wonder about her now. The cage is gone, the others taken inside for the winter, and not yet back outdoors, but I don't know what happened to the uncaged bird.

A million years ago, when I was about 14 or so, Glamour magazine ran a poetry contest - I think it was for college students - & there was one poem I cut out & have kept - it's now in pieces & I don't know who wrote it or how it ends, but it begins "Something should be said for birds who venture into birdless skies . . ." Even at that age, I found the idea of birdless skies quite wonderful.


  1. I love chippy pieces, this photo especially reminds me of a moment cpatured intime, and you know it will never be the same again.
    Oy, I need my tea this am, I am blathering!
    Good work.

  2. Thanks again for all the positive vibes!

    I'm needing a coke and a tranquilizer this morning! Maybe a soundproof rooom, so I can just go scream & get it out of my system! Computer problems!!!!!

  3. Just came across this when I googled "birds who venture into birdless skies". I think it might be the same poem I cut out of Seventeen magazine in the 1970s... amazing to think that there might be lots of women out there who as girls who did the same, that line resonating with each of them in their own birdless sky landscape... Love your photos, too.


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