an old writer and his words

  • PLACES

    My mother, the goddess of cliches, was overly fond of repeating that “There’s a place for everything, and everything should be in its place.” I must admit that, in addition to hating her cliches and platitudes, I grew ever less certain of my place in her world. She was more than willing to assume my…

    Lou Faber

  • THIRD EYE, NEEDING GLASSES

    You ask me what is the first thing I can remember, and seem surprised when I tell you memory is much like a Buddhist river, never the same twice. Memory is a stage and I am one to forget my lines, today it’s the window in the back of a Miami Beach bus amazed at…

    Lou Faber

  • AND WHAT IS LEFT BEHIND

    She calls them around her bedside but they stand back fearful of the withered ghost hovering on the sheets, until one, eldest, touches her extended hand with a finger as if passed through a flame. I will be leaving soon she tells them, if not tomorrow then a day later and I will take the…

    Lou Faber

  • SIGNS OF AGE

    1. I wrote a note to remind me to remind you of that thing you didn’t want to forget, but I can’t remember where I put it. Have you seen it? 2. I am rapidly approaching that point when counting black hairs on my head is easier then counting years. 3. This year I finally…

    Lou Faber

  • HOPI DREAMING

    Look to the East stare at the sky and feel the winds carry away the snow which paints our lands and shrouds our ancestors in a mantle of white. Look to the South see the waters of the river flowing gently to the horizon bringer of the fish spirits, its azure waters washing away to…

    Lou Faber

  • BULLET TRAIN

    From the window of a speeding train the rice fields seem like carpets, today the gold of the alchemist’s dream, just months ago the green of imagined grasses over the next hill. When I sit down to dinner in Osaka, will the rice nestled in my chopsticks tell me of the dreams of those who…

    Lou Faber

  • NATURE’S VACUUM

    Nature abhors a vacuum a fact not lost on God, who spent considerable time filling voids and creating vessels, pots  and the odd variety of containers, some quite will suited to their contents and others, man as a shining example, illogical, and worse still, leaky so that once packed with thought and emotion it spends…

    Lou Faber

  • STORY: FRAGMENT ONE

    “Look, I know it’s short notice, but I had to get away from the west coast. I was losing it so I threw my stuff into the van I bought and high-tailed it here.” “It’s not short notice, moron, it’s no notice at all. We aren’t even friends. Gloria’s my friend and according to her,…

    Lou Faber

  • PIANO LESSONS

    Mrs. Schwarting was my piano teacher. At 12, my parents gave me a choice of lessons: piano or dance.  I had two left feet.  I chose piano.  It did not move. My mother smiled at my choice.  She knew what my decision would be before she asked.  My mother was like that.  Mrs. Schwarting was…

    Lou Faber