an old writer and his words

  • ON STAGE

    NOTE: My new book is here at last. It has been 16 years in the making, nine of which I have spent producing this blog. Since you have been following and reading my work which I appreciate, if you would like a copy Free of the Shadow for $10 (shipping included) rather than its list…

    Lou Faber

  • THAT MOMENT

    I remember the first moment whenthe ophthalmologist told me my maculardegeneration in one eye had gonefrom dry to wet. I probably felt momentary fear.I had read enough to know that when one eyegoes, there is a fair likelihood the otherwill eventually follow, and wet AMDgenerally results in blindness.I have lost central vision in that eyebut…

    Lou Faber

  • NO NOAH

    The rains have now begunand while they are not yet Biblicaland may never be, we know theyare simply a tease of whatis coming in the next days.Milton is a monster, they say,his reputation as impetuoushas already preceded him,and I am not one to argue finepoints with nature, she is fickleand always manages to win.So we…

    Lou Faber

  • THE HANDS AND EYES OF GREAT COMPASSION

    If you look for the dharmaand the path you areonly halfwayto what you seek.The eyes look outbut what looks inwhere the restof the dharmaand path lies? A reflection on case 105 of Dogen’s True Dharma Eye koans (正法眼蔵)

    Lou Faber

  • FASCINATION

    They strut across the yard as ifimagining themselves peacocks,trying to attract the eye of anyonewho might glance in their direction.The day is slowly fading, the sunreluctant to depart hoversover the waiting horizon fascinatedby these large birds on stilted legs.The cat, ensconced on the lanaiwanders over to the screenand calls out quietly, invitingconversation, always willing to…

    Lou Faber

  • ARTISTIC SENSE

    Perhaps the moon should learnwhat so many artists know,that it is more enticingif the body is not blatantly displayed.Certainly the fully nude bodydraws the eye, but showing less,a hint of flesh, of thigh or breast,leaves the viewer wanting more.But the moon cannot seem to helpherself, always the slow stripteaseuntil she is fully bare and thenembarrassed…

    Lou Faber

  • MOVING WALL

    She walks slowly pastthe three bronze menslumped wearily one against the others,and shuffled haltingly towardthe Wall where, at the sixth panel,she stooped and placed the small plastic poppyin the trough that cut along the base of the marble.Eyes squeezed closedshe reached up and tracedthe etched lettersseeking warmth from the cold stoneand felt its coarseness, likehis…

    Lou Faber

  • FALLING APART

    In my minds eye, whichfortunately for it cannot hopeto see the mirror, I am sixteen.No, cancel that, at sixteen Iwas still chubby to be kind.So let’s make me 18, evenif I had almost no hair thanksto the U. S. Air Force, but Iwas as fit as I would ever be.No, that won’t work either,for I…

    Lou Faber

  • CAMERA OBSCURED

    People stand in awelooking at what Ansel Adams’camera saw on those magical days.I am an outlier, for althoughI am struck by the beautyHis photographs offer my eyes,the stark play of light and dark,how shadows define a world,that is not what I wishthat I could see, for I wantnothing more than to seewhat Ansel Adams sawwith…

    Lou Faber

  • A HAUNTING

    The ghosts that haunt my dreamsspeak in many languages, eachfamiliar, twisted deep inside me.I cannot answer for they do not listen,say they do not know me, know me well.I want to sit, to talk with each in turnbut I have no voice they can hearchoked off by cruel Morpheuswho only releases his grip oncethey have…

    Lou Faber