September 16th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
I have today off
tomorrow but it’s
tomorrow’s yesterday
I’m on
and perhaps
this is the reason
all the future’s past
ain’t gone
I could spend
about an hour
contemplating all
this on my lawn
until the past’s
coming tomorrow
is my yesterday
yet gone
September 12th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
[*note – this story was originally called “Ants and Hornets” – I have since realized these are yellow jackets, not hornets – very likely Vespula pennsylvanica – the ants look to be Formica obscuripes]
The other day I was out on the property with my daughter, hanging out beneath the arch of a tree and the hollow of some bushes: a little hideout where I keep a chair for quiet, measured snippets of novel now and again.
Anyway, I was there as I said, chatting with my daughter, when she pointed out a dark hole in the ground.
“Yellow jacket’s nest,” she said. “I wont sit in here, they’re all over.”
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September 9th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
The present “view” at Big Dam (circa 2010)
(continued from: A Flood of Memories – Part 2 The Big Thompson Flood of 1976)
The river changed for me after the flood and, to this day, it is not the one I remember from my early childhood. The river we ice-skated on in the winter and that I caught my first fish from, on a piece of black thread with a rusty, found hook is long gone. A hazy but persistent memory that continues to define a very distinct and distant period of my life.
Floods update the shape and course of the rivers they spring from. The rushing water carves new beds from old banks, uproots foliage, rolls boulders, and deposits new layers of mud and sand where before, perhaps, there was none. Floods remove old landmarks and create new ones. Floods destroy human built landmarks and redefine how and where it is wise to place them.
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September 2nd, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
A car peeping out from its impromptu grave – Ernie Leyba/Denver Post File
(continued from: A Flood of Memories – Part 1 The Big Thompson Flood of 1976)
The next day dawned and, from my perspective, nothing was different – but it was.
We had no power and there was a queer smell in the air, a smell of mud and propane. After being told of the evening’s events, my mom allowed my brother and I to walk down to the corner above the falls with the stern admonishment to avoid the edge of the washed out road. We were to go no further than the falls.
Later that day we learned why my mom had been so adamant that we explore no more than what we could see from the road: two of of our neighbors had investigated the scene below the falls already that morning and had reported finding, among other things, a nude woman asleep in the silt.
Except, of course, she wasn’t asleep.
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August 26th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
Big Dam Falls at Chasteen’s Grove
In the summer of 1976, when I was 7 years old, the river I lived near – The Big Thompson – suffered a flash flood of unheard of proportions. 143 people lost their lives in the rushing waters, five of whom were never found. My family, though living in the affected area, suffered little but inconvenience and shock as the human world around us reeled from one of nature’s little hiccups.
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August 15th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
August 12th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
Click for some primitive Flash-iness.
August 8th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
detail of unfinished piece, acrylic on canvas 3′ x 2′
I’ve never really indulged my painting urge. I yearn off and on for the capacity and thus, occasionally dabble but it remains one of those things least often attended to in my panoply of petty distractions. Maybe four short, concentrated periods prior to this one. As I’ve mentioned too many times before, I grew up feeling incapable of art and something about painting terrifies me.
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August 1st, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
acrylic on canvas 2.5″ x 3.5″
Upended unreeling
Bereft and unfeeling
There
Up near the ceiling
Am I
Am I?
July 29th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
acrylic on canvas 2.5″ x 3.5″
“Paint as you like and die happy” – Henry Miller
July 25th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
Saw a site featuring animated gifs made from photo booth images and I had to try it out.
You can just about hear the gibbering once this thing loads and gets up to speed.
This makes a good soundtrack.
Love you, Punky.
Pappy.
July 22nd, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
Pathways From Spirituality is an ongoing series exploring
the how and why of a life of religious and spiritual disbelief.
I’ve never believed in a god of any sort.
I wasn’t even aware that such a notion existed as a serious reality for most people until the second grade. Oh, I’d heard the word “god,” of course. Many around me were wont to say “goddamn,” “goddammit,” as well as just plain “damn,” so I understood that “god” was a modifier designed to increase the level of damning one was engaged in, even if I wasn’t sure how or why.
Likely my ignorance of religion flourished for the same reason other’s faith did: the household I lived in.
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July 18th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
July 15th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
In a recent post, I mentioned having worked at a bronze foundry close to 20 years ago (“Lost and Foundry”) and the sense of family that the place left me with, despite all the time and distance that has accrued.
Thanks to Facebook, I have reconnected with a number of the folks I worked along side with (or for) in those days and one of those people is sculptor Ted Schaal.
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July 11th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
wrap that hand
around that mug
handle mangle squeeze
pour a darkling
draught of drug
black or as you please
sip at steam
and bitter stain
colorize your teeth
now all the day
your breath will hint
at what must lie beneath
July 8th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
Lime.
I’ve liked lime since I was a kid. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the perverse attraction I’ve always had for those things not mainstream in my culture: lime, the color purple, rain, Japan. The other reason – the biggest one – is the fact that I just plain love the flavor.
I didn’t get to taste it much, then. I mean, where did you find lime in 1970’s Colorado outside of gin and tonics? Unlike apple, grape, banana, cherry, and orange, flavors that seemed to be in everything, lime was a rare pleasure. It was so rare a flavor, in fact, that I have this horrible, itchy feeling that I first tasted it in Starburst candies.
Yeah, that’s right: Starburst originally came in strawberry, lemon, orange, and LIME.
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July 4th, 2013 by Corey A. Edwards
