Saturday, October 16, 2010
Coleus lands on the far side of beautiful. Maybe it is ugly, maybe it is too beautiful to tolerate. As if to maximize surface area it curls in on itself like the tissues of the brain, the bronchial sacs, the intestines, the regions where maximum exchange provides the fuel for life.
Seeds fall from the drying coleus heads every time the table shudders. They are very small, black shiny seeds, so light they are more like the husks of tiny dry beetles than anything that could start a new life. Too light to be easily sponged up, they stick all over my hands. It is horrible.