Something ate the comment I thought I left last night. But now there’s a new agenda—your health. I hope everything’s working out OK, and by rearranging furniture, you mean literal chairs and tables, not rearranging your own body parts.
The other stuff I said wasn’t important. I like the idea in the Rumi, esp. after visiting family for a week. Also, I like the purply-pink tinge in the photos. Are those live oaks, such as we’d find in your ancestors’ American South?
Our Editor Responds: When I put this post together, it felt close to the bone. As if the choices were revealing something of myself to myself. The guides are changing. Less Bukowski – more Rumi. I’ve loved this ‘white room’ but I don’t want to live here any longer.
Those ancient oaks have been left to exist because they took seed near a river (that was eventually channeled) on land that become the location for the DWP’s power lines. Palm, Eucalyptus, Oak, Pine and Sycamore – they are my Axis. I love them all.
It’s all really beautiful. I like the pictures best, huge bluesy oak tree. Or I don’t know, maybe the poem. I could carry it around in my pocket.
Our Editor Responds: Are you familiar with Earthside Gardens? You access them from a side street near Wilson school. More on that below. The pocket Rumi (I’d buy one)
Love the light, color, compositions and subject matter of your photos. Is that St. Francis under those oaks? I also love the poem by Rumi. Alas, he is a much better at being human than I’ll ever be.
Our Editor Responds: Re trees – mediocre photos call for photoshop solutions..… but yes, good eye you. Either Saint Francis or Father Serra. They’re right off of someones property. Looks like they’ve appropriated these oaks. Not a bad idea in that it appears the homeless have taken over Earthside (see comment above). We had all hoped for a revival of Earthside, but years of drought have played a part in their demise. The grapes are barely holding on. So much potential.
Right on with Rumi – you and me are in simpatico here
Love the oaks pictures, it looks magical.
Beautiful the Rumi poem and the crystalline voice of Mia Doi Todd, that I never heard before today. Thanks for that.
Our Editor Responds: It is lovely. Haunting really. Here are the lyrics
My room is white, the walls
And all my appliances, all compliances.
I live in silence, my windows
Closed to traffic, all that racket.
You are the opposite. I could never fit
Into your apartment.
Are we going to give up or (are) we going to try?
Are we going to give up or (are) we going to try to learn what life is?
The tide comes in, and we’re caught
By the rocks and the wetness neverendless.
We kiss for the first time, our lips and tongues
Tied in fitness, infiniteness.
Then the ocean pulls back somehow,
To reveal a crowd of uncertainty.
Are we going to live up to the words we said?
Are we going to live up to love we made? Made? Made?
A house, a garden, a family tree,
Fruit aplenty, all varieties.
Desire fulfilled, inspired until
The awakening from our daydreaming.
Here in reality, what we make believe
We can make happen.
Are we going to give up or are we going to try?
Are we going to live up or are we going to die tonight?
Are we going to give up or are we going to try?
Are we going to give up or are we going to try to learn what life is?
Pasadena Adjacent 
I love Rumi and that poem and that song
Our Editor Responds: me too, very personal
http://www.metrolyrics.com/my-room-is-white-lyrics-mia-doi-todd.html
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Something ate the comment I thought I left last night. But now there’s a new agenda—your health. I hope everything’s working out OK, and by rearranging furniture, you mean literal chairs and tables, not rearranging your own body parts.
The other stuff I said wasn’t important. I like the idea in the Rumi, esp. after visiting family for a week. Also, I like the purply-pink tinge in the photos. Are those live oaks, such as we’d find in your ancestors’ American South?
Our Editor Responds: When I put this post together, it felt close to the bone. As if the choices were revealing something of myself to myself. The guides are changing. Less Bukowski – more Rumi. I’ve loved this ‘white room’ but I don’t want to live here any longer.
Those ancient oaks have been left to exist because they took seed near a river (that was eventually channeled) on land that become the location for the DWP’s power lines. Palm, Eucalyptus, Oak, Pine and Sycamore – they are my Axis. I love them all.
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They make a good axis. They deserve the love.
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It’s all really beautiful. I like the pictures best, huge bluesy oak tree. Or I don’t know, maybe the poem. I could carry it around in my pocket.
Our Editor Responds: Are you familiar with Earthside Gardens? You access them from a side street near Wilson school. More on that below. The pocket Rumi (I’d buy one)
http://eastofallen.blogspot.com/2008/12/more-secret-garden-earthside-nature.html
LikeLike
Love the light, color, compositions and subject matter of your photos. Is that St. Francis under those oaks? I also love the poem by Rumi. Alas, he is a much better at being human than I’ll ever be.
Our Editor Responds: Re trees – mediocre photos call for photoshop solutions..… but yes, good eye you. Either Saint Francis or Father Serra. They’re right off of someones property. Looks like they’ve appropriated these oaks. Not a bad idea in that it appears the homeless have taken over Earthside (see comment above). We had all hoped for a revival of Earthside, but years of drought have played a part in their demise. The grapes are barely holding on. So much potential.
Right on with Rumi – you and me are in simpatico here
LikeLike
I love Rumi. He goes so deep with the simplest words and images. The photos are brilliant and ethereal.
Our Editor Responds: He does indeed
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Love the oaks pictures, it looks magical.
Beautiful the Rumi poem and the crystalline voice of Mia Doi Todd, that I never heard before today. Thanks for that.
Our Editor Responds: It is lovely. Haunting really. Here are the lyrics
My room is white, the walls
And all my appliances, all compliances.
I live in silence, my windows
Closed to traffic, all that racket.
You are the opposite. I could never fit
Into your apartment.
Are we going to give up or (are) we going to try?
Are we going to give up or (are) we going to try to learn what life is?
The tide comes in, and we’re caught
By the rocks and the wetness neverendless.
We kiss for the first time, our lips and tongues
Tied in fitness, infiniteness.
Then the ocean pulls back somehow,
To reveal a crowd of uncertainty.
Are we going to live up to the words we said?
Are we going to live up to love we made? Made? Made?
A house, a garden, a family tree,
Fruit aplenty, all varieties.
Desire fulfilled, inspired until
The awakening from our daydreaming.
Here in reality, what we make believe
We can make happen.
Are we going to give up or are we going to try?
Are we going to live up or are we going to die tonight?
Are we going to give up or are we going to try?
Are we going to give up or are we going to try to learn what life is?
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I love old trees and this one is certainly that.
Our Editor Responds: seeding on no man’s land has been their blessing
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Wonderful post – and I love Rumi! Never heard of Mia Doi Todd – I like her a lot.
Our Editor Responds: Me too, but I find this particular piece more confrontational then most (and I like it). An artist introduced me to Mia Todd.
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Love the blue tinge…
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