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Thomas Trofimuk is an Edmonton-based published poet, author, and self-described “failed Buddhist”, who does NOT write blogs.

Instead he produces “sorbets”… and this really ought to wet your literary appetite as to the quality and thoughtfulness of his writing.  Subscribe, do.

Anyway, today’s sorbet featured a story of a birdhouse… or bird-home maybe (I’ll let you all find out about that, but you’ll have to join the flock).  And by happy coincidence I’ve been working on a birdhouse photo as well, adding some flowers, trying to riddle out what birdhouses and flowers might have to do with one another.

The flowers and ferns come from a very different home than the bird’s home, but both come from the last couple weeks of snooping about the back yards that make up a life.  Come to think of it, I might even have hammered that particular birdhouse together!  A Woodworking Project, that’s what we called that (that’s ‘fixer upper’ in bird-talk).  Still do those, yep.

So home might just be the theme here.  When I make the word in my head I draw it out (no, not like E.T.) and lay it into the naive melody of one of my favorite tunes, This Must Be the Place, from the group Talking Heads, here re-worked by the David Byrne (more on why I draw inspiration so often from this artist’s work in the next blog…)

“Home… it’s where I want to be but I guess I’m already there…”

I have a feeling these words ring true for a lot of us, yes?  Melancholy and cheer in perfect proportions.  What else could you want from home?

Spaces to growing things.  Places to watch them grow.