a zen practice
one lived in table. no expectations. no fuss. a slow shaving on the outer layer. one part at a time. by dustfuls. naked new skin of the wood and nourishment. a renewed table. a calmer monkey. took hours. with newly found surface, ready to be used, with a mind that is open and no longer desperate. time comes and time goes. and without shedding the old, there'll be no new. but the new already belongs to old. one ceases to exist in definitive terms, but of moving present perspective. many lives crossed in my mind while i stood there in the kitchen and cared for the table. love to you all. ...and i also made a tres leches cake. remembering all my great friends in lincoln, ne, especially! yum...