Monday, December 6, 2010


"There is something about the moon that makes you want to wonder", I wrote, to began an essay in a writing class when I was nineteen. Professor Butterworth had given us an assignment to attempt "a stream of consciousness" style. I succeeded and was asked to read it to the class.

The day when man set foot on the Alka Selzer in the sky, my wonder-lust was punctured. Not so for my roommate who thought it to be a fitting date to offer her virginity to the guy down the hall. This way, she thought, I'll never forget the date.

The moon has always been with me and I with her. When full and round, I sigh . The first thumb nail - Instant hope.

This fall the Harvest moon was gigantic as it posed on the trees next to the dome Sacre Coeur. I pointed it out to the Sri Lankan boys working in the souvenir shop at the bottom of the hill. One ran with his camera-phone to catch a photo. I asked him what he was planning to do with it.
"Send it to my wife back home." He smiled.
"Doesn't she have the same one?" I inquired.
"Yes." he replied, still smiling.
That was the answer.
"About the first of the night when I had slept my first sleep, I awaked with sudden fear and saw the moon shining bright and seeming as though she leaped out of the sea." Apulius's Golden Ass

I picked up a book at a Rummage sale last Saturday. The White Goddess by Robert Graves.
It is extraordinary and from it I took the title of this post and retitled the above water color.
I found Graves' writing nourishing and magical . Makes me feel in love,
but, don't tell Claudio even when the moon is full.


  1. Just beautiful. Dreamy, gorgeous tissue-paper-like pictures. Thanks, Mary!

  2. I truly enjoy your words and art work.



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