an old writer and his words

  • FOR THE BIRTHDAY BOY

    On April 23 of this coming year,Wiliam Shakespeare will celebratehis 450th birthday, a momentous occasionto be certain, but knowing how cantankeroushe can be the odds of him showing upat the party I want to throw for him areabout as slim as the odds of Bob Dylanever sitting down on the edge of the stagewherever he…

    Lou Faber

  • AFFIXED

    I can only begin to imaginehow utterly strange I must lookto the Great Blue Heron standingin the wetland behind our home.What must he make of this odd creaturewith thick legs that seemdisproportionately short comparedto their bodies, why their neckshave such limited mobility, whythey cannot look behind themselvesor scratch their chins with their toes.But the birds…

    Lou Faber

  • BASHO IN GALWAY

    Basho wanted to be in Kyotowhen he was in Kyotobut perhaps it was the cuckoothat led him to think thathe might be elsewhere, perhapsnot even in Japan althoughhe had never left Japan.I had the same feeling aboutIreland, except that thenI had never been in Ireland.I know, now, it was my genesthat wanted to be in…

    Lou Faber

  • DISCLOSING IS NOT AS GOOD AS PRACTICE

    You can spend an hourstudying Dharmaor you can spendten minutesin silent zazen,The great Wayis silent andno paper cancontain it, truesilence cannotbe read or studied. A reflection on case 77 of the Shobogenzo, Dogen’s True Dharma Eye 正法眼蔵

    Lou Faber

  • ARCHEOLOGY

    On a belated honeymoon in Italywe wandered around the Roman Forumamazed at the ruins, imagining how theylooked once, how they had fallen so, eatenaway by time and endless stares of touristswho only wanted to touch history as ifit would grant them momentary immortality.Friends visiting Turkey sent picturesof the Hagia Sophia and that, in turn,returned my…

    Lou Faber

  • TRIO

    I always wondered if the pianisthunched over his keyboard in the frontof the small club, reinventing a melodywe all thought we knew, the bassistsharing the stage providing support,stopped to note the lyrics offered upby the people in the audience as hecontinued to play, and if so, did henote them for future referenceor did he simply…

    Lou Faber

  • GALLERY

    I have visited countlessart galleries in this countryand a few in Europe as well and Ialways stop and stare at the masters’still life paintings, how the lightplays off a piece of fruit, howthe glazed porcelain on a ewerseems to make the reflected lightinvite you to dance with it.I wanted to sip tea from a china…

    Lou Faber

  • NIGHT WALK

    I walked the cityin the heart of the night,streetlights casting the shadowsof ghosts of those long goneto bed, unknowingthat the city has beengiven over to ravening windsthat find no shelter.I step into an alcoveand the fading lightof the flickering bulb overheadurges me to move onlest she bury mein the darkness of her grave.By day, this…

    Lou Faber

  • POOR MAN’S SAUCE

    It was a four burner stovetwo of which still worked.Money was always tight,our parents refusing to understandwhat it cost beyond tuition, room and boardto be a student, forgiven for theyhad never gone to college.We became masters of cheap cooking,two steps beyond ketchup and waterbut the cheapest tomato saucewe could find, and sale herbswell past their…

    Lou Faber

  • ONE

    He hated that they always said “one step at a time” as if it was possible to take two steps at a time. Maybe when we were quadrupeds, he thought, but it cannot work for mere bipeds. That is why he believed birds were the most lucky species, with cats a close second. The freedom…

    Lou Faber