A Question

The adventurous portrait of my longing

The green leaves turn brown, the chilling wind

The shadows spread riddles from the sun

Distinguishing the passage of time

Songs all different can blend in harmony

Conquering doubts and afflictions

To seek, to find, to end all wanderings

But what is love that love challenges life

Is not praise enough without surrender?

O mystery.

Rare time when snow arrives in Napa Valley


February 4, 2023

Good morning.

First day of my Sabbath Project

I’m a beginner. A believer? Not yet. A faithful? Oh, no. Far from it.

What is the sudden reversal?

The mystical women of the Middle Ages. I’ll start with St. Clare of Assisi and Mechthild of Magdeburg.

What’s Sabbath Project? Getting up at 8am. Meditation for half hour. 


The failed experiment will not be a singular experience

could be wide with ramifications

is it unusual to have unhappiness early in life

and to have fullness of life later?

Sighting an uncommon bird

will be peculiar day.

a point of celebration.

The jellyfish dance,

glitter in the night

Walking in Festival of Lights

After the Rain

When I am having obscure feelings

When my neighbors start their monumental discussions

When you feel giddy

I hold the chairs with both hands

Plant my feet strongly

Breath deep and regular

The flood will recede

The forest will bloom again

I have been nudging my reluctant imagination

Offer alternatives, new ideas

Rare excursions to simplify playful musings

During all these days of rain

My memories are filled with orchids, mushrooms, migrating birds

Of intelligent fish and butterflies

Of praying mantis, of rabbits

I want allowances for distractions 

Without being detained, a few moments 

To clear my mind

The artistic practice to fail better

The waiting and unhurried way to find my shoes

And myself like a new beginning

I want to sing to you

Hike and dance our way

To the mountain.

These photos are taken from walk to the river during the last 3 days.

The present books I’m reading: Super-Infinte, The Transfomation of John Donne by Katherine Rundell

Shirley Hazzard, A Writing Life byBrigitta Olubas

How To Live or A Life of Montaigne by Sarh Bakewell

December Twenty Six

at sunrise

a bird leaves

its perch

a tree painted blue

a wind chime hangs from a branch

a bird sings from faraway

a mother looks at her child

imagines colors of her voice

the sun recedes behind the mountains

she adjusts the aperture

takes all the photos

a long story begins


a snowstorm

a child was born


Can the flowers hear

Do butterflies whisper their wishes

I’m alone walking along a forest path

My hair shines in the sun

You can follow me

Wherever you are

I pace my steps

Aware of watchful eyes

I’m reluctant to stray from the path

The mountain may shake

Obliterate my awareness

Dictionary may not suffice

The majesty in scarcity

Can elevate my expectations

Tomorrow I will start early

Inaugurate a new attentiveness.

note: It’s invigorating to be able to walk to the river again. I met a lot of walkers walking their dogs or their friend’s dogs. The air is clear and the sky is blue. Simple things.