LONGEST NIGHT (and SHORTEST DAY)

Longest Night is a personal holy day for me. I know, because I return to it again and again, in image and word and reflection.

It wrings poetry out of a "me" already exhausted by the physical dark of the season and the cultural busyness of the purported holy days.

This year, I'm caught up in reading the prophet Zechariah and the seer John of Patmos (scribe of the Revelation of Jesus Christ), as well as The Divine Invasion by Philip K. Dick.



we can hear the clatter of the hooves
     of the steeds of the Lord’s horsemen

red white sorrel sickly green pelts
     blood and flame dripping from their nostrils

their sordid breath salting the earth
     that they bend upon and trample

can you taste the stars?
     they sing of wormwood and gall



paint your face in lampblack and gray ash
    in ochre clay and in blood-stained clay

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Apparently, the darkness has influenced my muse to tend toward the apocalyptic again in my poetry. But I follow where she leads. Hopefully, I make it out without too many scars.

ODIN and FENRIS

One-eyed Odin and Fenris nap in the waning winter sunshine.

YGGDRASIL the HAND

Yggdrasil the Hand reaches for the fruit of the horizon-hugging sun as The Dog and TWT stroll along the deserted Riverwalk Trail.

CHRISTMAS at the CONSERVATORY

Today was both a day of wandering and a true Troy's Work Table day—filled with books, art, and beer. And plants.

I visited the W.W. Seymour Botanical Conservatory at Tacoma's Wright Park. With all of the glass and the temperature below freezing outside, even with portable heaters running full blast the temperature inside the greenhouse was only 60ºF. But it was beautiful with all of the ornaments and lights, the poinsettia, and the amaryllis, in addition to all of the tropical plants.

THE RED HOT

Today was both a day of wandering and a true Troy's Work Table day—filled with books, art, and beer.

The Tacoma Dog at The Red Hot is a local version of the classic Chicago Dog. In Pierce County, this is the best hot dog around. The skin of the hot dog has a bit of resistance on each bite and the various flavors—hot dog, yellow mustard, pickle spear, sports peppers, tomato wedges, celery salt, onion, poppy seed bun—blend together for a near-heavenly experience.

I had a pint of 21st Amendment Toaster Pastry India Red Ale to accompany the hot dog. The biscuity malts and strawberry jam hops of the beer were a great partner for the hot dog. I've had Toaster Pastry many times in cans, but never on tap. It was a nice treat on a cold day.

WHITE HOLD

These hands don't clap in glory. But they'll hold the white disc of the sinking sun.

BLUE BAR

Bars of sky. Slate upon silver upon cerulean. White pressing in.

Threat of snow. Rain certain. Ice.

CLOUD DREAMS

Twilight winter walk snow dreams of clouds.

SNOW DREAMS

Sunrise autumn clouds dream of snow.

ROOT of JESSE

This "Root of Jesse" is the result of a welcome "collision" of different areas of my life.

It is a piece for my job, because I needed a representation of the "root of Jesse" mentioned in Isaiah 11:10, but the "artwork" of the same I found online was mostly of extremely poor quality. So I made my own.

It is a portrait of Advent waiting.

It is a representation of hope in the face of overwhelming odds against that same hope.

It is a play on The Metamorphosis of Plants by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, which I've now read four times in the past couple of weeks.

It is a culmination of another reading of Area X: The Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer and the (environmental) weirdness that lies therein.

It is in the style of the underworld pieces collected in my Chthonic coloring book.

It is inspired in part by a study of tree trunks by artist Ivan Shishkin.

It brought me great joy this past week, which was a gift of its own.