Out And In

During some moments of clarity, I remember the pink jellyfish that dwells below my lungs. Upon each inhale, it becomes wide and and UFO-shaped, raspberry tentacles tangled and bowed, as jellyfish often look like when they're preparing for a big move. As I exhale, it floats upward between the deflating lungs, like a closing umbrella, tentacles skirting down and out, and mushroom cap exploring new heights.

Circadian Rhythms

Oh, Tezeta, Ah

Cometas Colombianas

Background To Foreground

The Sight of Saturn

"If the ancients had been able to see it as I see it now," Mr. Palomar thinks, "they would have thought they had projected their gaze into the heaven of Plato's ideas, or in the immaterial space of the postulates of Euclid; but instead, thanks to some misdirection or other, this sight has been granted to me, who fear it is too beautiful to be true, too gratifying to my imaginary universe to belong to the real world. But perhaps it is this same distrust of our senses that prevents us from feeling comfortable in the universe. Perhaps the first rule I must impose on myself is this: stick to what I see."

Autumnal Soundscape

An Ode To Dark Evenings