Crow Looking Back / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 unframed / $68 - free shipping
TO ALL WHO MIGHT BE WONDERING, "Three Geese" has found its home. And, interestingly, it was bought by the person whom I thought of when I thought of that painting. So I believe it has gone to its rightful owner!
I HAD ABSOLUTELY no idea that I coveted a black eye. All these years, all these decades, and I just didn't know, until I got one.
It happened unromantically enough. I'd been watering the front garden, and my shoes were wet. I slipped on the threshold and fell full-length onto the living room floor.
After several tries, I was able to get a call through to Liesl and Lexie, and they came back (we had just finished walking), cleaned the blood off of me and the floor and bandaged me up, pretty much good as new.
I talked to my dad, who asked if I had lost consciousness (no), or if I had a headache (no), and he said I should be fine. No concussion. He used to be a brain surgeon, so he knows. He's the one who told me I'd have a black eye.
Sure enough, I do! I'm quite excited and proud. And I've made up a good story - Vincent Van Gogh and I were arguing about my ear. He was insisting that I cut it off, and I said No Way - I like my earrings too much to lose one ear! OK, he said, then it's a black eye for you.
The Crow's Calling
A bird moved as if
a black hole shaped
like a crow was strutting
a path across bright playground
grass before rising, leisurely,
at an angle, to observe
from the perch
of a stark eucalyptus
to caw forth a sermon,
determined, inspired as a priest
on a foreign mission
irnoring the fact of our
- Peg Quinn