an old writer and his words

  • LONGER

    Some may wonder why, lately,it is taking me forever to reada relatively short novel when Inormally read at warp speed.The last time this happenedit was either Calvino’s IfOn A Winter Night . . . orperhaps Michael Ondaatje’sThe English Patient bothof which presented the sameobstacle that I could not clear.With those books and Rulfo’sPedro Paramo I…

    Lou Faber

  • UMMON’S FARM RICE CAKE

    If you tell a masterthat you want to tastethe full richness of Buddhismdo not be surprisedif he smilesand hands youa glass of pureunflavored water. A reflection on case 78 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • SLIPPAGE

    As sight slowly slips away, asthe macula continues its retreat,the sense of your senses must change.We are driven by sight; and sound, tastetouch and smell are really just valued adjuncts.The Bard of Avon suggested that the eyesare windows to the soul, and oh how manyseers want to help you look into the future.We are told…

    Lou Faber

  • WIDOWER

    In the cold nightof another winterhe stares outacross the barren fieldswhich have long forgottenthe taste of the sun.He watches carefullyfor a signbut the naked branchdenies the breeze.He remembershow it once wasin the heatof the dying firethe sweetness of her lipslingering on his tongue.She is gone, has beenso long, her faceis hiddenby the gauzy veilof time.He…

    Lou Faber

  • ACCESSIBILITY

    Technology has afforded those of uswith impairments the abilityto more fully participatein the world around us. However we can never lose sight,a painful use of the phrasein my case, of its imperfections. Perhaps it is merely anticipatingthe future of our species, as whenthe phones captioning decideda somewhat elided Marsha and Barrywas in fact Martian berries.As…

    Lou Faber

  • THEATER OF THE ABSURD

    If Aristophanes were suddenlyto arrive here, he would no doubtpause, but with the eye he had,would soon discover such a treasuretrove of material, he could producecomedies to last several lifetimes. The problem would be in findingthe right audience, for here we havelittle taste and patience for the sortof comedy at which he was so adept,and…

    Lou Faber

  • ONE FLAVOR ZEN

    How far must you wanderto taste the pure essence,hear the pure note,see deeply into beauty,smell the first flower of spring,touch another heart.Will you grow tiredfrom standing stillin total silencecontemplating this? A reflection on Case 65 of Dogen’s Shobogenzo Koans (Trud Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber

  • STRING QUARTET

    The violinists’ laughter and tearsare flung from her flying bow,drip from his elbow,and wash over the stilled audience –we can taste the seaas we threaten to capsize. The viola is the older brothernow steadying, now caughtin the wave, ridingits dizzying course,dragging us in its wake. The cello is a torso, the cellista surgeon, her handsplucking…

    Lou Faber

  • CURFEW

    We sat in the cramped kitchenhuddled around the stovethe open oven door spreadinga faint warmth that barelyslid through the winter chill.The bare bulb in the ceilingstrained and flickeredfighting to hold as the generatorswere shut down, and darknessenveloped our small world.The sky was lit by the flaresand the odor of exploding shellsseeped through the towelsealed windows…

    Lou Faber

  • INTO THE BRUSH

    I have carefully peeledback the skin of a hundred snakesand left their twisted formscurled around mesquiteas so many skirts. Canadia geesefollow carefully worn pathsacross an October skyundeterred by storm cloudsgiving chase from the west.A wolf wanders downfrom the tree line to the edgeof the highway. She can tastethe approach of winter,bitter on her tongue, her…

    Lou Faber