www.paulmerchant.com

Luís Cuadrado, Cinematographer

26 January 2012

Do they know
I am going blind,
that I will not live

without sky, amber sun,
or a crucifix flickering
above a beeswax candle?

The lens of this camera,
my Frankenstein eye,
holds you, young Ana,

los ojos oscuros,
pulls focus, opens aperture,
narrows the depth

of vision and frames
these child eyes forever.
Do you, young Isabel,

taste the salt of blood?
Taste is nothing
to sight. My eyes,

though dim, witness
glossy red daubed
onto tender lips,

los labios rojos.
This celluloid retina,
forever rolling, unfailing,

will remember always.
My daemon machine, whirring,
never stops seeing:

Los ojos oscuros.
Los labios rojos.


Soul Winner

19 January 2012

You can be a soul winner
With psycho-cybernetics explained
Your mind can keep you well.
In fact, everyone can play bongos
Reach beyond their grasp
Understand minorities
And stroll through the emerald isle.

You've got confidence
To overcome discouragement
Because 60 French girls can't be wrong.
Just sing and you can live again.
Whisper hope
With memories of Elvis
And never walk alone.

Bongos bongos bongos bongos
For people who no longer hear the music
Satan has been paralyzed.
Just remember, keep your husband happy
Belly dance to the wild beat
Close your eyes
And sing songs for bashful lovers.

One of your siblings is dead.


Upside Down

12 January 2012

are upside down?
on windows
in raindrops
the trees

Have you noticed


Inspired by the Kokinshū

5 January 2012

I.

    now that your dreams
can climb the trees
    that grow on mountain peaks
they will embrace     this wind
like waves of wisteria

II.

    after the night fell
ashamed     I buried my heart
    with leaves and grass and earth
but even the stones
became kindling to the flame

III.

    when the pain has gone
and my breath     is no longer
    shallow as this mountain stream
the pulse of my heart will be
still to forgive


Manifesto 44

1 January 2012

Throughout each of my remaining days, I will check my course, stay physically active, practice mindfulness, and strive to be more prolific.1

1. Check Course

With major decisions, I will keep commitments and set time frames. I will be honest with myself and others about my strengths, weaknesses, convictions, and boundaries; I will not hide from who I am.

The underlying goal of all my work should be to increase my capacity to love. I will remind myself of this by starting each new work session with a scripture and a prayer.

2. Stay Active

Most people don't wear themselves out; they atrophy. Physical exercise keeps the bones and muscles fit. It improves brain function by releasing endorphins, serotonin, dopamine, BDNF, and stored glycogen.

I will make the world my fitness center. Instead of trying to set aside a place for regular exercise, I will work out in the car, in the office, or at home. I will create opportunities to run and walk. Before I sit down for a work session, I will do something that gets blood flowing to my brain.

Physical activity will increase my need for rest, so I will turn off the lights for about eight hours a night and keep a schedule of recreational activities.

3. Be Here

I won't allow myself to be driven by the sensuous, but I will gratefully acknowledge that I experience the beauty of each moment through physical sensations. I will strive to be more mindful, more alive, and more present at the center of my universe. When I start a new work session, I will meditate on each of my five senses.

4. Do

I will carry a notebook and a pen to write down thoughts that I don't want to forget. I will use this notebook to write lists and processes.

Thinking on paper can improve execution. I will start each work session by writing four simple tasks that I can complete now. This list will keep me from becoming overwhelmed or sidetracked. It will also move me from dead thinking to the exhilaration of doing. Once I have completed four tasks, I can start on something new.

As part of my doing, I will publish one creative piece to the internet — an image, a sound, or a text — each Thursday.

Paul Merchant
January 1, 2012

1. A personal manifesto written at the age of 44.