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At

March 16, 2012

At 16 I wanted to be a Jesuit and alarmed my mother

not because I was Catholic or particularly religious

but a contemplative active life was a pleasing oxymoron.

Then at 21 I almost went to Thailand, almost

shaved my head and walked  the countryside as a Buddhist monk

with a friend ,  but I balked and he didn’t.

When he came back to the States, he gifted me the  native bag he used

to carry his belongings.

I hung it on the wall

like trophy.

 

Now I work in silence.

The bristles , wild hooves

pat the paint teasingly, leaving tell-tale marks.

Perhaps a hunter will come after all.

 

 

 

( some recent drawings)

 

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