an old writer and his words

  • SPACED OUT

    I laughed at my parents when they talked about a typewriter as something of a marvel when they were so commonplace. Of course as a boy, half the fun of helping my father at work was knowing the mimeo ink would stain my fingers purple for a week and even borax would only render them…

    Lou Faber

  • NOTELESS

    He says, “I write songs without music, my head is a libretto warehouse.” She says, “You string words like random beads, no two strands the same.” He says, “Symmetry is for those with linear minds, who can’t see out of the tunnel.” She said, “Dysentery is a disease to be avoided particularly by poets.” He…

    Lou Faber

  • VOYAGE FROM WITHIN

    Magellan set sail 497 years ago, which had nothing to do with her desire to find a corner in which she could stand, protected on two sides, and still stare out into the world and see all that was going on around her. Better still if it were fashioned of plexiglass, it could surround her…

    Lou Faber

  • THE SPACE BETWEEN

      The space between want and need is at once a vast gulf and the width of the hair, much the same as that separating luck and greed. It is only in the eyes mind that the gap is insurmountable and we give up hope that those who live in the land of wants will…

    Lou Faber

  • STARING

    If you stare at it long enough it is certain to become familiar, as though you have seen the very thing in the very place and time before. You know this is not possible, but it allows you to conceive of the future, even though that cannot exist, any more than the past can now…

    Lou Faber

  • VOYAGES

    Space is not the final frontier, of that I’m certain nor was Debussy right, though some does live between the notes, nor do I want more, what I have will suffice. No, space is the damned key on this keyboard that sometimes sticks anddrivesmetodistraction.

    Lou Faber

  • WITH EYES WIDE CLOSED

    Between this moment and the next lies an unbridgeable gulf that the mind leaps with great ease, never looking back, or down into the abyss. It is only when the body stops, tries to grasp the space between, that everything collapses and falls into itself until all that is left is improbability.

    Lou Faber

  • MILES FROM HERE

    Some say Miles said it’s the space between the notes – that’s where the music is. We heard him, we smiled, we anticipated the next note and the next. Outside my window a blue jay recites his morning prayer, the child’s laugh breaks the frozen sky and shivers the maple. Then all is silence –…

    Lou Faber

  • NO DIFFERENCE

    He said: I took the road less travelled by and still haven’t found my way home. I need some space she said, slowly unfolding herself. He replied: I’ll give you all of Montana if you want, all but Bozeman, that I’m keeping for myself.

    Lou Faber

  • AT THE BORDER

    Out at the edge of the universe, time has no beginning and stretches endlessly, as a stone dropped, its ripples spreading outward across a shoreless lake. There is no time here at the margin, no space consumed by all space. I would touch the edge and press it outward disrupting balance until it all draws…

    Lou Faber