Francesca Forrest's Blog, page 73

crows, gathering

I left the jail at exactly the moment of sunset when all the crows--ALL OF THEM--were flying from every point lower than the hill on which the jail sits to the trees above the parking lot and below the highway. They swirled in the air, so many of them, and then settled to roost. I wish I could have captured the waves of them, coming up from the river, and then how they filled the sky right above the parking lot. "A little creepy," said one woman, walking from her car toward the lobby. But no,...

Left to his own devices

Left to his own devices
phone fitbit
desktop laptop tablet tv
xbox one ps4
thumb drives earbuds multiple remotes
computerized car intelligent fridge
microwave keurig alexa echo

He reads shares shoots maps
plays lurks cheats hacks
streams plots blocks compiles
inputs measures messages
commutes reroutes preserves renews
mixes secures monitors

yearns

doubts

panics

deletes

uninstalls

wipes

wonders

where are the lever
and fulcrum
with which to move the world?

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William Bullard and the Beaver Brook community of Worcester, MA

Yesterday a friend invited me to see a wonderful exhibition : prints made from newly discovered glass negatives made by the photographer William Bullard. The photos are of people who lived in the Beaver Brook area of Worcester, Massachusetts, from around 1900 to 1912. They're predominately African Americans, but also Native Americans and immigrants--it was a vibrant, diverse community.

Along with explaining who the people in the pictures are, the accompanying plaques included comments from thei...

Paths of Desire

I took a break from the work day to walk with the healing angel to Dunkin Donuts--she had an errand there. We walked on the trail. I was amused to see that although New England Central Rail would like to prohibit people from using a particular natural crossing, people have gone right ahead and continued to cross, as both the snowmobile treads and the cut-through in the mound of snow indicate:



Do not thwart our paths of desire!

...

There was dance music playing in the Dunkin Donuts. I would like...

A little more on portal fantasy refugees

In the last entry, osprey_archer , sovay , and I got to talking (thread here ) about the background premise of Every Heart a Doorway--namely, that there could be some kind of special school for young people who can't readjust to life in our world after having an adventure in another world. I realized I had some questions that go beyond that particular novella.

(1) Where does the notion that a portal adventure leaves you messed up come from? Is it all down to the fact of not being able to return...

Overhead doors

A truck was pulled up in a driveway in my neighborhood. It said "Devine Overhead Doors." (Here's a photo from the company's website, if you'd like to know precisely what it looked like.) Now, it seems that "overhead door" means a garage door that rolls up, but my thoughts went like this:

Devine Divine Overhead Doors



It reminds me of one of the stories in The Ladies of Grace Adieu, where angels poke their heads out of windows in the sky.

In very slightly tangential news, I gave up on Every Heart...

ice lantern

First it will be snowstorming, then it will be back to the deep, deep freeze. Keep the home fires burning and a light out for the stranger.**




**Rich of me to say this since my outdoor lights don't actually work. But now I have the ice lantern, so it's all okay, right?

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New Year's Day ice flowers, and resolutions

It is very satisfying to walk out into the deep cold well enough wrapped up to not be bothered by the chill.

I paid a visit to a frozen creek. I didn't pick the ice flowers.

( here abide frozen things )

Last year I resolved to write creatively at least two days a week, to work on Spanish every day (or to make up days I missed), and to record the things I notice each day. I failed at the first and third of those, but I did the second and am pleased to know significantly more this year t...

The angel and Davi of the doves

duccio took this photo of his neighbor feeding the pigeons, watched over, sidelong-secretly, by a statue of an angel or a saint or a contemplative someone.

duccio and some others on LJ/DW have this thing where they draw each other's black-and-white photos. He invited me to give it a try, and I did, twice (actually many many times, but only twice that I'm sharing), once trying to copy the photo, and once trying to show what I see in it.

It's hard, yo. The photo tells the story so perfectly; I ca...

The bite of cold iron

It's cold out today. I grabbed my car key in my bare hand after driving a brief way in the cold car, and it *stung* my hand. I felt like I'd been bitten or burned--I guess because the key was so cold? But I've never felt cold metal like that before. Maybe I always have gloves or mittens on? But suddenly I understood exactly what it must be like to be one of the fairy folk and touch cold iron.

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