The Birdhouse

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I am bird nerd. Always ways always will be. A good portion of my life is spent just looking out the window studying their activities. Not a minute of it a waste.

They have dismantled the house across the road where the pigeons were nesting, I knew the day would come. They were bold and held on till the end but they have moved on now.  Their home of many years is nothing but an expanse of sky between two walls. I still see them flying though. A swathe of silver circles the rooftops before ducking and dipping out of sight. A marvel that lifts my soul each and every time I catch it.

My dream is to one day have a house with a garden and in that garden there will be a tree with a bird or two or three or more.

Birds mean home to me. I want them to take me with them. Home.

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Untitled (Acrylic)

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Day 87.

Currently rereading Henry Miller’s Tropic of Capricorn. I read it once before over a year ago and see that I have underlined more passages than I have done in any school text.

The passages that struck me then as particularly resonant are today even more so. I’m grateful to have made indications to such passages as I know they are they’re readily accessible to me whenever the need for sustenance arises.

On the pursuit of gaining an understanding of himself he says

I couldn’t afford to leave things hanging in suspense that way- the mystery was too intriguing. Even if I had to rub myself like a cat against every human being I encountered, I was going to get to the bottom of it. Rub long enough and hard enough and the spark will come

The painting is a new work in acrylic.