it's not every morning that a flock of turkeys just lands in the dog park.

perhaps it's their size that makes them unseemly for the air,
or else the fact that the only time we ever hold them in our arms
is when they're frozen solid.

down they came from somewhere out of the left, (capsizing moment)
and alighted into the field of my vision
like a family claiming a spot of shady green for their picnic.

until the dogs noticed.
and took berzerk after those hapless parachutists, surprised out of their minds
up into the bare oaks just in time. while catching their breath they took count of eachother by
overwrought yelps that we interpreted as
"are you alright?"
"yeah, i'm alright. what the hell just happened?"
"i don't know. goddamned mapquest."

Typeface made at the beach of Zandvoort aan Zee in The Netherlands.

backbreaker alphabet from hijack your life. thanks to camilla. i especially love the b.

remember my seaweed alphabet from last year?

the joy of translation

how babelfish translates certain french idioms:

to drown in a water glass (make a mountain out of a molehill)

keep a pear for thirst (save for a rainy day)

it's not necessary to push yourself into the nettles (going a bit far)

to make a cinema of something (make a big deal of it)

to fall into the oubliettes (become obsolete: oublier is french for forget. an oubliette is a dungeon.)

all is not pink in life (life is not a bed of roses)

to cry one's coil dry (cry your eyes out)

to make a fatty morning (to sleep in--i love this one.)

to fall into the apples (to faint)

to have a puppet in the drawer (to be pregnant)

to search for the small beast (to nitpick)

occupy yourself with your onions (mind your own business)

the dress does not make the monk (don't judge a book by its cover)

and then there's window-licking, the french way of saying window shopping.