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The Ragtag prompt today is “Like a Circle in a Spiral.” I think that one requires its own post—this time a photo post. I bought this round spiral tile at an antique store nineteen years ago and had it installed over the door of my studio when I had it built a few years later. It is the reverse of the prompt, actually—a spiral in a circle. It has always reminded me of the Pueblo symbol that played a central part in one of my favorite books, The Man Who Killed the Deer by Frank Waters. “A circle enclosing a dot” which was the symbol for man’s place within the tribe and the tribe’s place within nature. Those similar symbols—a spiral and a circle surrounding a dot show up elsewhere in the decorations of my house. In a poem written by Isidro in response to a piece of mine entitled “In Mexico there is always music,” in the symbols painted on the Purapetchan bowl and in the mural painted by Isidro eighteen years ago, as well as a poem painted on the wall outside the entrance to my bedroom. Some of those symbols remind me of an illustration I saw years ago of droplets exactly like some of these images falling as a spiritual blessing from the skies. I always thought they were labelled as “yod” which is a letter of the Hebrew alphabet, but I can find no mention of yod having this significance, although the letter is similarly shaped. At any rate, I love these shapes that seem to show up time and again in different cultures and religions and how often they signify the same thing–spirituality, man’s place in nature, the cycle of nature, life.
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The prompt was to show photos whose subject ended in “light.” For the January Squares prompt: ——light.
3 a.m. Chicago O’Hare.
Please post your favorite photos
on the theme of “Pleasures of Air Travel”
and post a link in the comments of this site.
Time period: Sept. 5- Sept. 30, 2019
Here’s a poem I wrote about air travel a year and a half ago. Seems appropriate, so I’m reblogging it. Complain, complain.
Open Letter to the Airline Mucky-Mucks
To Whom It May Concern:
My carry-on’s too heavy to lift above my seat,
so I had to put it under, now there’s no room for my feet.
I request some water (though I’ve been twice rebuffed,)
to take an antihistamine, for my eyes are puffed
from the perfume of my seatmate, which also made me cough.
So I’m already hurting long before lift off.
I’ve squeeze marks from the narrow seats, I’m shivering from the draft,
and when this ride is over, I must board another craft!
Two hours later, two states up, I face another battle
trying to find a decent airport meal here in Seattle.
On my muffuletta sandwich (priced $15.93),
I look in vain for olives, which there don’t seem to be.
My Tim’s potato chips are stale, the sodas are all flat.
The Wifi that they advertise does not know where I’m at.
Air travel’s an adventure but not the one I sought.
I forget this lesson once again, refusing to be taught.
One hour left ‘til I lift off to wing my way on east,
I buy a drink and steel myself to board your winged beast.
I hope this time my seat mate fits in his own seat
so I don’t have to deal again with the impossible feat
of leaning out into the aisle, avoiding every ass
of passengers and stewards that brush me as they pass.
I bitch, I whine, I grouse, I cry, complain and moan and sigh.
‘Til by now I’m sure you wonder why I even fly.
I must admit I’ve asked myself the same as I’ve been talking.
The only reason I have found is that it sure beats walking.
When WordPress put us out to dry,
turning a deaf ear to our cry
not to suspend the Daily Post,
I think it disillusioned most.
Yet, so many rose to hear our plight
that now I labor day and night
to fulfill the prompts they host.
I fear offending if I don’t post.
So though outside the air’s a balm,
the flowers lush, the scene all calm,
I feel my obligation’s rush.
I feel each lined-up prompting’s crush.
Each jostles to be first in line
like a regular at opening time.
So though outside it’s tropical,
and therefore very topical,
I cannot feel the scene before me.
Sun, trees, water only bore me.
Even the palm trees do not sway.
No wind rustles them today.
And though the prompt is “tropical,”
my mind is stuck on “topical.”
I must admit that I’m distracted.
With prompts, I fear, I’m over-facted!
Here are seven prompt sites that have grown up in answer to WordPress’s abandonment, plus two I’ve been posting on for some time:
https://fivedotoh.com/ Fandango’s prompt today is tropical. This is a well-set-up daily prompt site that is easy to post on. It needs followers. Give it a try. I’d like to see it succeed. It is posted daily, just past midnight Pacific time, so if you like an early start, this is a good prompt site for you.
https://weeklyprompts.com/ This site publishes a weekly prompt.
https://flakback.wordpress.com/ Alan Grace has set up a site recycling WP prompts from two years ago. This should work out well for beginning bloggers who haven’t already done these prompts.
https://onewomansquest.org/2018/06/04/v-j-s-weekly-challenge-1-shift/ This is a once a week prompt that I used for the first time yesterday. It was an intriguing prompt that was very unusual and fun to write to and I look forward to getting into the habit of posting there once a week.
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/ Daily Addictions is another reliable and easy-to-use site that makes use of Mr. Linky.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/ This is a very good daily prompt site run by seven bloggers who were part of the WordPress Daily Prompt community and who wanted to see the daily prompts continue. You’ll recognize many of the names who post there, now.
https://dversepoets.com/ This is another poetry prompt site I love that predated WordPress’s retirement.They post two prompts a week and make use of a Mr. Linky site to link your poems to.
https://ceenphotography.com/ Cee posts a number of prompts, many of them photo prompts, but some that include prompts to be written as well. Hers are the prompts I’ve followed the longest. They are thought-provoking and she has a large following and an easy-to-use linkup page.
If you know of other prompt sites I’ve forgotten or have not yet come across, please list links to them in the comments below.
Enlarge photos by clicking on any one.
For a few weeks last month, it seems like I was always looking up to see a man in one of my trees. They were like tamed teams of monkeys: trimming my palm trees, cutting back the huamuchile tree in my vacant lot, or men from the electric company trimming my giant royal poinciana from where it had grown around electrical wires.
For Sunday Trees 342