Sunday, July 17, 2016

Like a summer school kid, I lapse

into nonverbal habit, trying to mimic bird calls at best. I do rise into chatter when grandkids appear and at qigong class and with friends. It is the summer green, tumultuous greening that lulls me into a kind of torpor, a not unhappy state. Like this morning as I weeded the onions and unfortunate beets and pole beans coming back from a trimming by some creature of the evening. Perhaps it isn't the speaking out loud that is suffering, but the occasional visit to blog. oh, yes. Lazy moi.
Perhaps these many carved figures, from a store in Addis Ababa, will prompt me to muse and linger here. I wonder if some of the faces were purposefully modeled on an enemy, a voodoo? Or perhaps some might be fertility fetishes? Or a relative honored? We did not linger and I did not ask. 
The jumble of faces reminds me of the crowds at the markets in small towns south of Addis Ababa. 

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