Friday, November 28, 2008

Garage apartment

"...why no. . . this too is fanciful. . . funny how
hard it is to be slow and delicate in this,
this thing of framing..."

From "My Generation Reading the Newspapers" by Kenneth Patchen

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Blue chair

"...Still, there were photos in her camera,
and bright, teasing little captions to say
--so it wouldn't have been a total disaster. ..."

From "Only Then" (see page 20) by Irving Feldman


I have heard from friends who knew not that I plotted to eat BBQ at Snow's without 'em, and I am now the target for truck-loads of good-humored resentment.

Those unprintable forms of affection are just part of what I'm thankful for as I count my blessings this weekend. May you and yours be as amply and happily blessed as I feel I am. Happy Thanksgiving, all y'all.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Ghost flames

Too tired to clean a new photo, but my fingers are still itching to post. impromptu collection of the search terms by which some people recently have landed here:

louis nevelson
electric tree
lori witzel
dyc trucking
reflexive architecture
divine chatoyance
crime story 300 words
photography chatoyance
sue standing poem
charity books for africa doris lessing
curly witzel cowboy
regarding art by nazim hikmet
ghost flames
hans hoffman elysium
ipomoea indica hardiness
a lucky penny poem
story about 300 words
porch swing in september by ted kooser analysis
my dreams my works must wait till after hell comments
why did edward hirsch write poor angels
what chatoyance
chatoyance art studio
scripter rud
louise nevelson picture
the cedar limbs
the pottery of the gallina complex-hibben
on a dock on a rainy day
poem to feel better backache
poem child flying through the air
the force through which the green fuse moves
blue streak lori
in the cedar-limbs
indra's net illustration
ruby chatoyance
chatoyance birds eye
analyze poem the cabbage by ruth stone
track coaching poem
ruota della for
creeley divisions order. order. the bottle contains
backache poem
kokopelli vectored
festival small poem
illustration feet, shoes
famous enjambment
who will know us?-gary soto analysis
quote from louis nevelson
audrey flack chanel
inner beauty poems illustrations photos blog stumbleupon
blake's mind-forg'd manacles
artificial horizon by sue standing
hexagram 30
alpine texas allergies
self sacrifice illustration
eccentric polygons,frank stella
jay-jay johnson self-portrait blogspot
surfaces by kay ryan
eccentric polygon
frank stella eccentric polygons
tree energy in photos
spare part lori
piercing gaze
learning to love america by shirley geok lin lim
smell of orange peels
lori poem
was long gone
lactuca virosa photos
what is a happy color
the why of things
hat spotting
witzels point view
lady bug san gabriel forest
drawing heavy set people
osteopath poems
jose montoya in cursive
biplane rides in austin tx
tree energy electricity
back ache poem
illustration grendel
dan chelotti
photos louis nevelson
48 fleetline for sell
campfire smoke chemicals

Saturday, November 22, 2008

* burp *

Left the house at 6:15am in the chill and dark, and saw the big red sun finally poke through low gray-lavender clouds while driving through Thrall.

I had a few minutes of panic when I overshot the not-obvious exit to downtown Lexington and found myself leaving Lexington city limits en route to Giddings. Caught myself before too many miles went by, stumbled into off-the-highway Lexington, and then couldn't figure out where Snow's was.

A nice police officer gave me directions (and a rather bemused glance, since I was there for BBQ at 8am.)

There was a small line. I was the only gal in the line. There was a pro photographer flitting around Tootsie, the pit master, snapping away. The gent two people in front of me looked like he'd slept in a deer blind the night before, and said he had driven in from Fort Worth. (He ordered a combo plate, and $200 of brisket and pork ribs to go.) The gent immediately in front of me was a very large, roly-poly redhead with a thin beard. All the gents in line looked like serious BBQ eaters: big men with ample padding, ruddy skin, camo jackets or slightly worn sweatshirts. No iPods, Blueteeth, Blackberries nor other such trappings.

After drifting into meat heaven courtesy of Snow's two-meat combo plate (yes, Shelly, I did get the brisket, and I got pork ribs -- I stuck to what all those early arrivals were ordering) I was interviewed by a woman who was a stringer for "American Profile" -- she said she just had to come over to interview me, since I looked so happy eating that BBQ.

The BBQ was divine.

I gave thanks to the animals who gave their life to help sustain mine, and to the folks who were non-stop busy behind the counter but still nice as could be, and to Tootsie for her alchemical use of smoke and time on the meat. Sorry S., no pix of the food -- there are others out there who've taken care of that -- but let me tell y'all about it.

The brisket -- it was deeply beefy, touch-tender without being greasy or uneven, had a perfect smoke-induced red ring and a tiny bit of rendered-fat crust. It truly was BBQ apotheosis.

The pork ribs -- oh, my gawd. Possessed of a crisp lacquered smoke-side surface and an ineffably succulent meatiness that melted off the rib-bone. This was the best, the very best, pork I've ever eaten, even folding in NYC downtown Chinese restaurants and my own stuffed pork chops.

Beans were fine -- mixed with bits of sausage and pork, slightly smokey. Coleslaw was a nice counterpoint -- vinegary rather than creamy. Potato salad seemed good too.

But after all that meat, I had a mere spoonful of each side dish.

Since it was clear this was BBQ heaven, I brought home a pound of brisket and a pound of pork ribs -- it's Murry's birthday weekend, and since he has to work I thought he might like the extra treat.

The only thing -- and this may be gilding the lily -- that would make Snow's better would be a good pie or cobbler to finish.

That said, when and if Snow's decides to ship their BBQ, if you can't drive there you really should getcha some.

Friday, November 21, 2008

The quest for BBQ

I am going to try to find this place tomorrow.

They start serving BBQ at 8am, and shut when they sell out -- usually by 9am.

It'll take about an hour and 40 minutes to get there, so I'm leaving before sunrise.

I hope the line's not too long when I get there, and I hope I'll see some nicely rusty things on my way back...wish me luck!

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Star-spangled mid-afternoon

"...I have been standing all my life in the
direct path of a battery of signals..."

From "Planetarium" by Adrienne Rich

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Street color

"...the lavish wardrobe
of things, the world’s
glaze of appearances..."

From "Favrile" by Mark Doty


I set out in search of color this afternoon, and found some.

While driving near here, as I was talking on the phone with my friend Henry, I saw people selling these on the sidewalk.

So I hunted up a parking space; they didn't mind at all if I took some pix.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Sunday late afternoon

"Dear lost sharer
of silences,
I would send a letter..."

From "Eyes Only" by Linda Pastan


I may just have to play hooky some this weekend and find more things to catch and share.

Friday, November 07, 2008


"... I love I love the safety of
small world this door frame back
of me the panes..."

From "Helsinki Window" by Robert Creeley


Yay! I'm back home!

A long week, and schoolwork to do this weekend (yes, I'll post some earlier coursework here) but I had an unexpected visitor bring me a smile at the end of the workweek. Although she suffered through an hour waiting to catch a cab, her visit was a delight.

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Here and gone

"...I know something now
...about one word that fails
For lack of substance. ..."

From "Far and Away" by Fanny Howe


A fresh post, and some questions, can be found here.

And I'll be more gone than here next week, due to this event. But I will come back for more as soon as I can.