Now That Is A Sandwich


Left sketchbook, pencil
Left hair uncombed
Saved by the sandwich!

If you haven’t visited Dornick’s blog before, you should go — there’s something wonderful in the consistent combination of prose, poetry, and photography.

While pondering what makes that recipe great, I remembered a website named which held to a similar approach.

During the time Vivian was writing there (and regularly quoting WS Merwin, Susan Musgrave, and Michael Ondaatje — among others) — every entry evoked that particular feeling of introspection and empathy which always seems to accompany intermittent, road-weary letters from a distant friend.

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet black bough.
~ “In a Station of the Metro”, Ezra Pound

Writing and art fold space. One creates context, the other memory. For a moment — in that indefinable space between the ticks of the clock which secure light and perception — we find ourselves crossing all intervening distance, breathing the air of our ghosts.


3 Comments so far. Comments are closed.
  1. Fortson,

    Yum – do you cater? 🙂

  2. ratchetcat,

    Are you really sure you want a sandwich constructed by a person who can’t even write good haiku? 😉

  3. Fortson,

    Well, when you put it
    That way, makes me think again
    But, question still stands!