Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

1950s, Art, black and white, fashion, Photography, stairway, style, vintage

The Stairway

Photo by Robert Doisneau

1952

Book Beginnings – One Hundred Years of Solitude

Tags

book beginnings, book reviews, Books, fiction, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, literature, One Hundred Years of Solitude, reading, Writing

By Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. At that time Macondo was a village of twenty adobe houses, built on the bank of a river of clear water that ran along a bed of polished stones, which were white and enormous, like prehistoric eggs. The world was so recent that many things lacked names, and in order to indicate them it was necessary to point. Every year during the month of March a family of ragged gypsies would set up their tents near the village, and with a great uproar of pipes and kettledrums they would display new inventions. First they brought the magnet. A heavy gypsy with an untamed beard and sparrow hands, who introduced himself as Melquiades, put on a bold public demonstration of what he himself called the eighth wonder of the learned alchemists of Macedonia. He went from house to house dragging two metal ingots and everybody was amazed to see pots, pans, tongs, and braziers tumble down from their places and beams creak from the desperation of nails and screws trying to emerge, and even objects that had been lost for a long time appeared from where they had been searched for most and went dragging along in turbulent confusion behind Melquiades’ magical irons. “Things have a life of their own,” the gypsy proclaimed with a harsh accent. “It’s simply a matter of waking up their souls.”

How could you not want to read more? This has always been one of my favorite books of literature. It’s timeless, classic, with just the right amount of strangeness, called magic realism, which lends to its tone and rapturous nature. It’s loaded with beautiful Spanish names, which can be daunting to the faint reading heart, but there’s a nice chart in the beginning pages giving the family history of Aureliano Buendia with all the names in order of birth. It’s a profound story, leading up to the firing squad, and years after, I guess 100 in total, the rise and fall of a town called Macondo, somewhere in the world, somewhere in time, in some history that is the writer’s and readers imagination. Truly one of the best reads of all time.

Originally published in Argentina in 1967. First English copyright translation 1970.

I’m even more versatile…

Thanks to Angela Trumble of A Literary Artist’s Music blog for giving me another nomination for the Versatile Blogger Award. I greatly appreciate it and love that you have been visiting my blog.

Here are some other note-worthy blogs:

Aspire. Motivate. Succeed

Everyday Scrawlings

Lonelym

Reading Through the BS

Literature, Imagination, & the Sacred

The Cotton Ball Conspiracy

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being Visible…

Tags

Art, inspiration, life, quotes

“It is only by risking ourselves
from one hour to another
that we live at all.”
~William James~

Illustration: Yan Nascimbene

Conscience

Tags

conscience, inspiration, mind, morals, philosophy, thoughts

The word “conscience” means “knowing-together.” It was a word coined by Stoic philosophers who said deity is found only within the human mind.

“Know Thyself” – Socrates famous quote was perhaps an aphorism for knowing God. By fusing the divinity with the self we get “conscience.” Philosophers across time have dictated that one’s own conscience is holy and right.

Conscience being, how do we find the moral precepts of what is ultimately right or wrong? Does our conduct, our character, our intentions, whether they be good or bad, create our conscience…or does the conscience inherent in us create our character?….

image: CONSCIENCE by Kharlomov

Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

fashion, Film, Hedy Lamarr, movies, Photography, silver screen, vintage photos

Siren of the Silver Screen, Hedy Lamarr

Thanks to John Masters of The Photo Roll Project for this perfect suggestion. (I didn’t forget.)  There are so many enticing photos of Hedy it was hard to choose, but I love the quality of this one, the light on her face and hands, and the fur jacket is wondrous. (Color guess? I think it’s white.)

image source: The Annex

I must whine…..

Tags

blogging, blogs, Freshly Pressed, life, musings, rants, whine, wordpress, yoga

Or perhaps have a glass…of wine…

Though I’m very happy for another person’s success, however small or large it may be, I can’t help but feel a little dis-enchanted that I’ve been banging at this blogging thing for over three years now, and someone who just started a blog on December 9th or something is on WordPress’s Freshly pressed front page…

Just what does it take…?…

I decided last year that I didn’t give a fuck, but I’m feeling a bit miffed today…

Enough said. I will cease with my whining…thanks for reading if you didn’t click off yet and call me certifiable…Hope all my lovely new followers understand. I do love you all.

Off to do some yoga. I’ll be freshly pressed on my mat shortly.

Peace…

Book Beginnings – Anna Karenina

Tags

Anna Karenina, Art, book beginnings, Books, fiction, first lines, Kindle, Leo Tolstoy, literature, movies

So I’ve been reading away on my new Kindle in the new year (at least I’m getting something done!) and am still reading the first tomb of a book I downloaded, Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. At well over a thousand pages this one may take me a while. Reading other books in between I guess isn’t helping my progress. If you haven’t read this classic nothing is wrong with you my dear. It simply isn’t for everyone. I confess I started it and set it down years ago, thinking it was boring, but it feels fresh to me today, and perfection in a literary find.

This book beginning will be a short one; it’s actually the first line. And it’s one that everyone, even if they are not a classic literature fan, or a Tolstoy fan, can relate to I am sure. Perhaps you have heard it quoted before.

The Beginning of Anna Karenina:

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

There are a number of movies versions in the past:

Greta Garbo as Anna Karenina, 1948

And I can’t believe, the same year, 1948, Vivian Leigh was Anna Karenina? This stunning gown was so well described in the book; it seems the costume designers nailed it here.

Sophie Marceau as Anna Karenina in 1997.

Some inspired book covers and art…

Anna Karenina by Clifford Bailey

mixed media by Ludmila Kalmaeva

Anna Karenina by Reno Photo

Black Dress XIX

Tags

black dresses, Daniel Craig, fashion, Film, Girl in the Black Dress, movie premiers, movies, red carpet, Rooney Mara, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

I may go overboard with this one…I love, love, love this dress and I’ve become an absolute fan of this girl without seeing the movie…yet…Rooney Mara at The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo premier wore this stunning sheer dress by Prabal Gurung.  She has become for me the ultimate Girl in the Black Dress. I have to include a few more shots of this dress…

Body perfection…

No runway comparison for me…I think Rooney rocks it way better and her shoe choice is to die for…

Can’t get by without showing the other star…always looking cool…

One last shot.

Photo source: Splash

Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

60s, Edie Sedgwick, fashion, icons, Photography, vintage, vintage photography

Edie Sedgwick – the  60s

Image found at FanPop.com

Liberte Writes

The Wit Continuum is purveying global cultural events, ideas and esoteric stimulations along with its devotion to the life of the creator of The Wit of the Staircase.

Fallen Star

Tags

miscellaneous, people, Writers

Why do we write? As Glenn O’Brien wrote in his tribute to Theresa Duncan, “all writers know that feeling of esprit d’escalier” which is in essence that witty response you think of long after the conversation has ended. Happens to me all the time. We write because we know the stories we think of, those angelic bits of poetry we receive while driving, that line of dialog that pops up or something we feel strongly about will be forgotten in a heartbeat if we don’t get it down. The things we see, too, as we explore our world, our internet, our political landscape, our spiritual sides–all request a permanent place in the world. Along with the people we meet who shine, if ever so tragically.

      I came across Theresa’s story last October in California Magazine. Her story still haunts me, almost one year later. Her The Wit of the Staircase blogsite continues to be a source of inspiration and prolific adventure, filling me with thoughts I hope to write down. O’Brien goes on to say “…and you can never second guess what it is to be haunted by ideas, by angels or demons or history or visions, be reality or imagination.”

      I’ll leave you with a quote from one of Theresa’s articles:

      “That’s what an artist is supposed to do. An artist is supposed to be a land-based astronaut. You’re supposed to be walking out in front of people, avant garde, reporting back, if you make it.”

We may never truly know why she never made it back. There are many stories to explore about her, there are many questions left unanswered. It is said she was at peace with her decision to end her life and I believe this. But we wonder still why she chose to take that wonderful eclectic voice from us, from those she inspired, and those she still inspires today.

Say Something

Tags

philosophy, Photography, poetry, Writing

by Jrock1919

Say Something

If, as one says, one says

something to another,

does it go on and on then

without apparent end?

 

Or does it only become talk,

balked by occasion, stopped

because it never got started,

was said to no one?

                   -Robert Creeley

      If our thoughts are energy, which they are, what are our words when spoken?  If spoken words are energy, what are our written words?

Twilight Falling

Tags

Books, movies, review, teen, twilight

      Under my staircase I’ve been reading Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight teen book series. Vampire’s, werewolves, oh my.  We here at the Continuum are looking forward to the movie release in November-it officially took over the new Harry Potter movie release date (which was pushed up to summer 2009 which we are not happy about).  I hope the Twight movie will live up to the writer’s vision.                    

       As for the books, however, I’m trying to overcome my disappointment with the main character, Bella, and her lack of personal empowerment.  She falls so desperately in love with a beautiful yet tomented vampire, who’s been alive for so long I can’t figure out why he isn’t mature enough to see what an idiot this girl actually is. She at one point looses months of her life-shown in chapters with month titles and blank pages, portraying the emptiness of her entire life do to the rejection of the vampire for the “how-many-ith?” time. 

      It’s a stuggle for me that this character is so weak over some guy and that he alone seems to be her heart’s only focus that I wonder what impression this leaves on the many young readers who love these books and may perceive Bella as the “it” girl of current literature. I so get tired of the vampire (or the were-wolf friend, male of course) rescuing her from the many self-absorbed perils she places herself in. Yet, still, I read on and on.  Would have like to see this girl kick some ass. Instead we see her literally held up by the vampire dude because she’s too weak to stand (as at the end of the third book). I haven’t read the final book yet.  Perhaps there all my character flaw questions will be answered.

The Italics Were Hers

Tags

Books, literature, miscellaneous, musings, Russia, women

While scanning my bookcase last week I came across one of my favorite books.  Published in 1996 and written by Kennedy Fraser. Ornament and Silence is a collection of essays on women who were artists, writers, poets, or were married to one. Great read for those of us needing inspiration in artistic life.  My absolute favorite chapter is titled “Going On” and it is about the iconic Russian writer Nina Berberova, who Fraser met several times and interviewed.  Berberova is the author of The Tattered Cloak, The Accompanist, and her prolific, and extremely pagey autobiographical memoir called THe Italics are Mine.  Nina had a modern vitality in an age where freedoms were compromised, women had a certain place which was not equal with men, and in coming to America after suffering and  fleeing the Russian revolution, Nina went on to find “the horizon she was promised.” “Like everyone else in America in the 1960s, she hit the road, setting off in her car to drive across the continent, exploring her world without walls, the new state of consciousness that she now called home.” 

Her philosophy of life I love especially.  Her checklist, taken from Ornament goes like this:  “Did you survive morally and mentally as well as physically? Did you try to look inside yourself, or did you play the victim and look for others to blame?  The great Russian question: Did you speak out and tell the truth? Were you bold in your work?  Were you modern-pushing yourself away from the nineteenth century with sufficient vigor?  Did you fulfill your promise, develop the talent you were born with?  And this question, over-arching all:  Were you cooperating with the life force, or were you willfully moving in the direction of suicide?”

       Nina wrote a list of her freedoms:

       From what, exactly?

• From intellectual anarchy
• From the opinions subject to the caprices of mood
• From dualism (everything has been synthesized)
• From a sense of guilt (now gone)
• From anxiety
• From fear of the opinion of others
• From neurotic restlessness and disorders in the body
• From the pedantry of early years
• From formless overflowing with contradictory emotions
• From the fear of death
• From the temptation to escape
• From pretense

Check out anything by Nina or Kennedy when you get a chance.  Promises of exquisite style and extraodinary writing-inspiring for any of us women writers who need it.

The Spiral Staircase

Tags

architecture, faith, inspiration, spirals, spirituality

The symbolism of a spiral staircase is that of a spiritual journey or spiritual progress.  It symbolizes the process of illumination, when one sees things more clearly, from a space within that was uncharted, unclaimed.  Each step on the stairs turns slightly, turns upon itself, bringing a new experience, set up by the prior, a breakthrough.  Eventually you climb to the new level where there is…you name it. 

Suddenly everything seems possible.

       There were times when I felt that I was stuck on the staircase landing, moving forward still, or working to move forward, but never getting to the next step to take me higher.  I felt that I was on a sort of treadmill-the treadmill landing-walking on and on and on…

      When you open up to things uncommon, more enlightening things open up to you.  The treadmill stops and you step forward…then you step up.

The Secret Life of Plants

Tags

nature, plants, Science

Along with the ethical treatment of animals–including the ones we kill to eat–should we mandate a code of ethics for the humane treatment of plants that are havested for food?

      If we are to take seriously the notion that plants have emotions, like humans and animals, as suggested by German professor Dr. Gustav Theodor Fechner, then we would surely have to rethink that potted flower sitting on our desks or on the porch.  According to the doctor, if one showers a plant with talk, attention, and affection the plant will grow healthier. We’ve all heard this. Talk to your plants and they grow fuller and look better.  But have we really, really thought about what this means.

     Can the energy we extend to a plant, showing fondness with touch and words actually be understood by the plant and if so does that blast of rock music we play effect it, or the Mozart?  Can the flower actually feel our touch?

         Which leads me curiously to Cleve Backster, and American scientist who believed plants can communicate with other life forms.  This pseudoscience became known as the Backster Effect. In his expertiments, Backster attached a polygragh, better known as a lie detector, to one of a test plant’s leaves.  He claims to have measured an electrical energy response coming from the plant as it was being watered.  Was this an actual response, possibly to the plant’s pleasure of being fed?  Backster tried for other reactions as well. He decided to burn one of its leaves. Apparently the polygram needle did dramatic sweeps, showing fear, even though Backster had not even touched the plant.  He came to the resolution that plants not only could feel things, but that they could also perceive intent as it relates to the plant itself.

What about the flowers we cut for our vases?

Vegetarians beware.

Now I’m reluctant to snip the sage and parsley from my patio garden for tonight’s dinner.  Chopping lettuce scares me too.

Link: Plant Perception (Paranormal)

The Most Brave and Radical Ideas

Tags

opinion, people, politics, thoughts, war protest

In January 2007 Theresa Duncan attended a war protest rally in Washington, D.C.  She said she carried a truth about 911 sign.

               “Why not question every single thing you believe?  Why not consider things that you’re embarrassed to believe?  Maybe 911 is an inside job.  Maybe love and forgiveness are the most brave and radical ideas….”

Notes

Tags

Writing

Some days there is more than enough time–to write, to explore, to design, to feel the world through different eyes.  And then there are those short days. They wiz by leaving you feeling like: What did I do?

The need to accomplish, to finish, to get it out there overwhelms us all.  I dig through all my material, tons of stuff, some in files, some sketched swiftly at one time into a notebook, some of it neatly tucked  into its own file in the computer.  Sometimes I go through it all and nothing hits me.  I sit and think.  I call these days composting days, when all the stories, ideas, newsheadlines settle into the mulch and ferment, becoming the fodder for the future.  We writers know this is necessary.

Even without the time we use our minds in the search-sometimes without knowing it, as we go through the busy day finishing off the necessities of life, assured in our knowledge of the the quest; we will get there, it will come.

Suicide and the Secret Holy Supposedly Paranoid-Conspiracy Society

Tags

people, theories, Theresa Duncan

 

No one ever really knows why someone takes their own life.  Suicide is a mystery, a declaration, a way of no longer having to decide.  It always, inevitably leaves questions.  Especially when the lost person writes that she loves everyone and is at piece with her decision.  Just as Theresa Duncan had.

        I am certainly no expert, nor do I have any background or study in the psychology of suicides, but when someone as talented and gifted and beautiful as Theresa Duncan and her lover of twelve years, Jeremy Blake, take their own lives to the suprise of everyone around them I tend to have my own theories–such as what were the drugs-in-use policies for them?  What were they taking? Prescriptives? Recreational? Liquor intake?  How much, and at what regularity.?  It can add up.

       I don’t know what Theresa and Jeremy partied with.  There were hints on her blog of a L.A. Lunar Society, whose existence is questionable (although she did give an address on the blog spot), which may in theory have been their own drugs-in-use meeting.  She does mention in the meeting “minutes” what she did in the library: “a couple bowls of California chronic” and “polished off half a bottle of XO cognac. Or so.”

        If you check her out you find enough paranoia stories to set your brain a-mush.  You wonder at just how messed up she really could have been.  But at the same time some of the stories she tells have factual basis, and the “theories” she hinted at on her site aren’t exactly fiction (Monarch Project and Garden Plot for example).  The writing of these beliefs, along with her attacks of the Scientology Church, could have undoubtedly gotten her red-flagged by the government. Whether or not they were being harrassed as they claimed, we may never know.  Whether or not her influence or that of Blake’s could have affected anyone we’ll never know either.

        There is so much out there on this internet.  We are free to explore, discover and watch, like fly- on-the-wall voyeurs with no accountability what-so-ever.  But are we truly free to write whatever we want?  Don’t kid yourself my fellow bloggers.  Maybe you too have been “red-flagged.”  We at the Continuum seek to start The Secret Holy Supposedly Paranoid-Conspiracy Society.  We hope to get to the bottom of this and so much more. It is a drug-free society, however.

A Forced Vacation

Tags

computer virus, computers, internet, security

Been absent from the blogosphere because of a breach in our security system created by a viral download that inbedded into everything, destoying the software and even shattering the harddrive.  Picture an imblodded building crashing down upon itself leaving nothing but a gagging cloud of dust and an insipid pile of smoldering debri.  The Continuum’s computer guru, Agent JF, confiscated my machine and salvaged what was left.  We can re-built it, we have the technology. (Six Million Dollar Man flash back…)

This Macro or Micro Security, according to Agent JF, that blazed up on my screeen when the virus, hit may have been the source–flashing Buy Now! Buy Now! and save your computer.  Get out your Visa or Mastercard.  Give us a few minutes and we’ll have all your identification and your credit card numbers. Thank you very much for you lack of security.

Anyway, I didn’t just get a free download of porn that I didn’t want–I got “quality porn.”

Don’t fly naked.  Get some security.

In Morbid Yet Poetic Fashion

Tags

animals, Culture, fashion, teens

 

Morbid yet poetic, Skelanimals are the latest craze by our teen members of The Wit Continuum, who first saw this clothing line while shopping at Hot Topic.  With the subtitle to the Skelanimal name: Dead Animals Need Love Too, my deeply held dark side gets curious, especially with the approaching Halloween season. The Continuum places these scary yet hauntingly sad and lovable characters in the file with the Dark Fairies of Neopets.  Each pet comes with a profile and cause of death poem.

Diego The Bat:

Diego’s favorite scary movie is “Birds.”

You can usually find him in the dark upper corner of your closet sleeping during the day. At night he flies around pestering the other Skelanimals to play…  While you’re asleep, Diego will watch over you to make sure the bugs don’t bother you.

How Diego Died:

Diego would glide and fly through the night

His sense of vision was perfect and bright.

He would wake the birds as they tried to sleep

Screeching and flapping with screams so deep.

Tired they were, these birds so weary,

Each day became longer and uncomfortably dreary.

A lesson had to be taught to this bat of the dark.

‘Let us sleep near the wire fence!’ squeaked the small, quiet lark.

Diego flew screeching, and speeding passed the fence

And through the rows of barbed wire so many and dense.

He weaved and dodged through the spiral blades

Only to be chunks of hues and shades.

You Are The Star

Tags

insight, musings, spirituality, tarot cards

 

Hope, Expectation, Bright Promises

The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing.  This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight.  And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, the water to quench your thirst, with a guiding light to the future.  They might say you’re a dreamer, but you’re not the only one.

We love the John Lennon lyric at the end.  Being cat people ourselves, the Continuum chose this set of cards.

Choose yours at What Tarot Card Are You? 

War on Computer Viruses

Tags

computer, computer virus, security, technology

Thank you Dan Reilly for your article, 12 Sneakiest Computer Viruses, on Switched.com. My computer guru was right.  If you check my Forced Vacation blog from October 8th, you’ll know what happened to The Wit Continuum’s computer.  I was quite boggled about what had happened, even though all is well and I’m safe and secure, but one of the Continuum’s alumni brought this fantastic article to my attention. 

Here’s the virus that got me:

“Last month, a family of Malware called Rogue Security applications comprised over 60% of computer threats. Much like the fake Norton Link, the variations of this Trojan convince users to download security programs that intend to control your computer and rip you off.  Most often, they’re download from those popup ads that say your computer is infected, leading you to download the file even if you try to close the window.  There are many versions of this Trojan, some of which resist anti-virus programs, so be very careful, but for starters, make sure your browser’s pop-up blocker is enabled.”

More: 12 Sneakiest Computer Viruses

And we were right about this scam wanting credit card numbers and identification.  A comment posted to Reilly’s article stated that the person had purchased the “fake security” for $29.95 and gave his debit card number, subsequently his entire bank account was cleaned out.

Universal Spirals

Tags

galaxies, Science, spirals, stars

On this day, October 13th, in 1773, French astronomer Charles Messier discovered the Whirlpool Galaxy, an interacting grand-design spiral galaxy located at a distance of approximately 23 million light years in the constellation Canes Venatici.

The Whirlpool Galaxy became the first galaxy to be recognized as a spiral.  A black hole, surrounded by a ring of dust, is thought to exist at the heart of the spiral.  It is one of the most famous spiral galaxies in the sky and can be easily observed by amateur astonomers, and may even be seen with binoculars. 

This is just a little reminder of how small we really are.

Source: Widipedia Free Encyclopedia

Little Red Riding Hood

Tags

fairytales, myths, red riding hood, women, Writing

Red Riding Hood

          Little Red Riding Hood is the fairy-tale heroine based on the aspect of the red-clothed goddess Diana.  In the tale, the usual trinity of maiden, mother, and grandmother are present.  The Hunter was orginally le Chasseur Maudit, or pagan Lord of the Hunt; while the man-eating She-Wolf or grandmother was a western form of the goddess Kalika.

Red Riding Hood is a story traceable to wolf-clan traditions.  The giveaway details are the red garment, the offering of food to a “grandmother” in the deep woods–a  grandmother who wore a wolf skin–and the cannibalistic motif of devouring and resurrection.  The story’s original victim would not have been the red-clad virgin but the hunter, as Lord of the Hunt.  Like Snow White, Little Red Riding Hood was part of a Virgin-Mother-Crone trinity, wearing the same red garment that Virgin Kali wore; as the red moon of a lunar eclipse she prophesied catastrophe and inspiried much fear.  In Britian, “a red woven hood” was the distinguishing mark of a prophetess or a priestess. 

Source: The Women’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

Artwork: Mermay 19′s Photostream

The Continuum Tackles Stephen King Once Again

Tags

Books, Duma Key, reading, Stephen King, Writing

           October is always the time to crawl under the Continuum’s spiral staircase and read something scary and this year I am tackling the extemely sizable Duma Key by Stephen King.  At 600 plus pages I’m thinking Mr. King does no editing what-so-ever.  I’m about half-way through and I’m not quite creeped out in the “I’ve got goosebumps traveling up the back of my head” way that I usually get (example: reading Bag of Bones-always love a good ghost story) but I am completely intrigued just the same. 

           Warning:  Story content is given away in the rest of this blog so if you don’t care read on.

           The main character of Duma Key is the lovable yet damaged Edgar Freemantle (great name!) who has been squashed half to death by a crane that backed over his pick-up truck at a construction site.  His right arm is gone, part of his brain destroyed, and suffering with a serious hip injury (handicap license applies here).  We meet him while he is recovering and although the situation is bleak, Mr. King’s dry humor which I love kicks in to make me laugh by page five. (Edgar calls two of the older nurses who attend him “Dry Fuck One and Dry Fuck Two, as if they were characters in a dirty Dr. Seuss story.”)  Edgar’s somewhat recovery (he has memory problems and rage issues), divorce (he tries to kill his wife twice because he can’t remember a word), and move to Florida’s west coast for a year ensue.  Welcome to Duma Key, a fictional island, secluded (no Star Bucks or Walgreens) where Edgar rents a huge pink beach house on stilts.

          When Edgar takes up drawing, then painting, the supernatural artistry begins.  To ease the itching in his phantom limb, Edgar begins to undertake an old hobby that he liked to do.  His pictures seem to emerge by themselves, or from another plane of existence, and begin to tell the future of the one he is thinking of when painting, or of a present moment that is miles away.  I’m at the point right now in the story, Edgar’s Dali-like paintings become actual precipients to cause certain events to happen.  He has met a kindred spirit who lives down the beach, Wireman, care-taker to an old lady with alzheimers, a lady whose creepy link to the island is starting to emerge (she evidently was brain-damaged as a child and did unique art also).  Where I’m at now, Edgar is trying to fix Wireman, a man with a bullet lodged in his brain that is slowly killing him, by painting the x-ray of Wireman’s brain without the said bullet.  The idea of this is not so strange to me.  Intention, especially in a supernatural vein, can be extremely powerful, if the desire and the belief that it will happen is strong enough.  Could Edgar actually remove the bullet from its existence in his friend’s brain?  If he did, where would said bullet go?

             Prognosis forthcoming.  I must read on.  Will blog about Duma Key’s conclusion at a later date (Halloween week perhaps–I have mucho spooky stuff planned already).  If you are a fellow Constant Reader, reading Duma Key or have read it, let me know–sans the ending please.

20 Things

Tags

Culture, life, ramdom, thoughts, voting, Writing

The following is a list of just some of the things that I am thankful for.  This list can go on and on and on… Thankfully, I’ve kept my WITS and hope a few things inspire you to make your own list.  Other than the top three this is a random list not expressing order of importance.  However, I feel the first three should be on everyone’s list of things to be thankful for.  Enjoy.

 1. Alive and living in the USA.

 2. The Right to Vote.

 3. New President coming soon.

 4. Gas prices below 3 bucks.

 5. Halloween right around the corner.

 6. The full moon

 7. The state of Florida.

 8. Shopping

 9. Writing a blog.

10. Reading – anything good.

11. Yoga

12. Laduree Chocolate Macarons

13. Scary stories

14. Scary movies

15. Skelanimals

16. Black clothes

17. Coffee – non-black

18. Madonna on Tour

19. Driving my black Mercedes at night-moon roof open

20. Cool, crisp October air to breath.

Cosmic Love: The “Punk” Hero & The Girl Who Decided to Become Conspicuous

Tags

Art, blogging, Culture, Jeremy Blake, people, Theresa Duncan, Writing

duncan_blake

The untimely deaths of Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake saddened many and caused the launch of a thousand blogs late summer, 2007.  Over one year later, intrigue is undisposed.  They shared “one of those cosmic kinds of love” that would ultimately lead them down the same highway. 

“They were remarkable people,” said David Ross, former director of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.  “I can’t think of one without the other.  It was flattering to be in their presence.  You felt good that they liked you.”

           Sometimes she would take out her compact and apply lipstick when someone was boring her.  She was one of the first creators of video games geared exclusively for girls.  When asked in a interview in February 2006 with LAist Magazine, “What remains the same and what has changed in the world of girls?” Theresa replied, “Having a vagina remains the same, but power shifts.”

           Jeremy became quite conspicuous himself as an artist.  Some people thought he was a snob, drinking his Manhattans and smoking his Nat Sherman cigarettes, until they realized he was just an artist, and funny and shy.  “I liked reading about heroic behavior and the constant ethical dilemmas of Marvel characters spoke to me directly,” he said in an interview.  About Theresa he said she was “a blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window” quoting Raymond Chandler.

Purveyed from: The Golden Suicides: Entertainment & Culture: vanityfair.com

Photo of Theresa by Joshua Jordan

Photo of Jeremy by Donald Graham

In The Woods

Tags

Art, Culture, red riding hood, Writing

in-the-woods

 

                    Red Riding Hood’s Continuum………

            Purveying the woods (and busy cleaning some staircases) in search of wickedly tasty goodies to put in my basket.  Not an easy tasks for Red.  There’s so many leaves about…and gender-confused wolves to watch out for.

            Will be sharing more later.

Black Dress 1

Tags

Art, black dresses, fashion, Kate Moss, models

We at the Continuum love black dresses.  Here Kate Moss in black and Karen Kilimnik’s art.

The Wit Continuum Remembers Theresa Duncan

Tags

bloggers, critic, Theresa Duncan, video game

Theresa Lee Duncan

The Wit of the Staircase

Born on October 26, 1966

Video game designer, blogger, filmmaker, critic.

Happy Birthday where-ever you are.

PS: Coincidentally, the Continuum has two family members who share Theresa’s birthday, one born on the same day in 1966.  Happy B-Day to all.

Spooky Street Names

Tags

Halloween, places, spooky, streets

Would you live on Shades of Death Road?  It is an actual street name in Warren County, New Jersey. “Several explanations have been given for the road’s macabre name, none of which has ever been conclusively established.  It has given rise to many local legends about ghosts and other paranormal activity along the road.”   (ooohhh…this drive may induce goose-flesh…)

The Wit Continuum came across taskingly scary stuff of late, part of our celebration of Halloween week.  We purveyed the USA for the more frightening of streets to live-by name anyway.  You be the judge:

Where O Where Drive – Nantucket, Mass.

Skunks Misery Road – Oyster Bay, NY  (Road Kill Heaven?  Skelanimals should maybe launch a lovable dead skunk from this location-just an idea)

Oh My God Road – Center City, Colorado  (Love this one–one blogger described this road as having “blind corners and lack of guard rails…not much wider than a car…and a sheer drop” on one side.  Hail Mary’s apply.)

Triple XXX Road – Choctaw, Okla. (Let’s not go there)

Purgatory Road – which connects to Heaven Street and Hell Street – in New Braunfels, Texas (Hard to believe this one’s real…)

Life Road – Peru, Ind.

Horneytown Road – High Point, NC

Psycho Path – Traverse City, Michigan.  (Has anyone seen Hitchcock screen actor’s ghosts?)

Sleepy Hollow Road – Drums, PA (No crazy headless horseman ghosts – or so they say…)

Chemical Road – King of Prussia, PA (Smoke stacks are bountiful here-wonder if anyone glows in the dark?)

Wit’s End Road – Andover, NJ  (Say it isn’t so…Definitely not the address of The Wit Continuum…)

Link: Unique Steet Names in America

A Presidential Halloween?

Tags

Barack Obama, Culture, Election 2008, funny, Halloween, John McCain

          If the selling of Halloween masks has any weight in who will win the election next week consider this:  In the past, whichever presidential canidate’s mask sold the most during an election year has been winner of the election.

 

         Obama masks have outsold McCain masks 2 to 1 so far.

Ultimate Pet: The Black Cat

Tags

black cats, cats, Culture, folklore, Halloween, magic, superstitions

Of course, we at The Wit Continuum love, love, love cats…and especially this time of year our hearts are unrested by pure, perfect black ones.  Contrary to one’s fear or suspicions of cats, I feel an affinity with the creatures, the elegant grace, and the attitudes they pose on their terms only.

History of the black cat is both bleak and kingly.  Witchcraft, sorcery, and evil follow le chat noir, yet in Egypt the cat was worshipped and harming one was punishable by death.  In witchcraft, the black cat is considered to be a shape shifter, or an animagus, to which the cat’s human form is the witch herself.  Some believed the Devil himself took the form of a black cat.

In Scotland, a black cat on your porch is a sign of prosperity. In Italy hundreds of years ago, it was thought that if a black cat sat on the bed of a sick person, that person would die.  Meanwhile, a black cat on a ship was considered good luck by fishermen.  Today, cats retain a status of good luck in Britain and Ireland.  The Celts thought black cats were reincarnated beings able to divine the future.

We in America have the on-going superstition of a black cat crossng one’s path as predictive of bad events to come–especially if a full moon is present at the time.  There are still myths and legends about black cats-one we found particularly strange.  The bones of a black cat are believed by some to hold magical powers.  There is a black market for the sale of black cat bones with the belief that they will “bring luck or power to the bearer of the bones.”

Here’s a bit of folklore in celebration of Halloween:  If a black cat jumps over a dead body, or the grave of someone recently dead, the corpse will become a vampire.

                  OOOhhh…Here’s to Halloween…and cat’s of the dark everywhere.

Source: Wikipedia Free Encyclopedia

Montparnasse Cemetery: Beyond The Language of the Living

Tags

authors, cemeteries, graves, Halloween, Montparnasse, scary, T.S.Eliot, tombstones, Writing

  

If, as Jean-Paul Sartre once wrote, “Hell is other people,” the famous existentialist is no doubt rolling in his grave at this cemetery, which he shares with some 3,400 others.  In death, as at the cafe table, he rests next his lifelong love, Simone de Beauvoir.

“The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.”  – T.S. Eliot

Source: Novel Destinations: Literary Landmarks from Jane Austen’s Bath to Ernest Hemingway’s Key West.

Above: Grave markers of Sachery, Charles Pigeon, Unknown by this author, and Sartre/Beauvoir.  The Montparnasse Cemetery is a popular tourist destination located in Paris’ bohemian Montparnasse quarter.

Photo source: Cool and Spooky website called The Adams Residence

The Sweater: A Halloween Ghost Story

Tags

fiction, ghost story, ghosts, Halloween, stories, Writing

This is a new version of an old story.  Hope you like it. Happy Halloween from The Wit Continuum.

The Sweater

       I was driving along one rainy night, Halloween Eve.  It was starting to get dark, the leaves blowing in the October winded rain stuck to my windshield.  I extricated myself from the comfortable warmth of my car at a stop sign to remove a very large leaf from the wiper when I noticed a boy walking ahead, being battered by the rain.  I was sure it was the boy who lived next door to me, a bit far from home.  I drove up to the curb next to him and lowered the passenger window, calling out to the boy–only I’d forgotten his name.  “Son, would you like a ride?  You live near my house I believe.”  The boy approached, pale in the darkening day as I unlock the door.  He got in, soaked as he was.  I hadn’t thought of that on the leather seats, but the boy needed this ride more than anything.  He was shaking profusely, and he barely could mutter an audible “thanks” through his chattering teeth.     

“You poor thing.  You’re completely soaked.  Here, throw this sweater on.  I’ll boost the heat.”  I reached back and gave him my large North Face red sweatshirt.  I call it a sweater, old fashioned as I am, even though it is nothing but.  The boy took it and disappeared beneath the huge red fleece material; then peered out at me from under the hood.  He smiled faintly.  His eyes were dark circled, lips purple-black.  His teeth still chattered.  I realized then that he was not at all the boy I knew from next door, but a complete stranger.  He must, no doubt, have been desperate with cold to get in my car.  Aren’t kids still taught not to talk to strangers?  Never to get in a stranger’s car?  Never the less, here was the boy.  And, of course, he was safe with me.

          As we drove on I asked him where he lived and he told me it was Arthur Street, a few blocks away.  I asked his name and he told me it was Timmy.  I put out my hand and introduced myself as Mr. Roberts.  Timmy’s pale hand disappeared in my palm.  I felt I was grasping a popcycle.  We rode on silently.  I could see the boy’s shivers subsiding.  On Arthur Street he pointed out his house to me, a red brick colonial, not too big, white shutters. The porch light was on.  I pulled into the drive and Timmy started to take off the red North Face.  “No son,” I said.  “Wear it in so you stay warm.  I”ll pick it up tomorrow at this time, okay?”  “Sure,” he said, then, “erh…thanks for the ride, Mr. Roberts.”  I nodded a you’re welcome as he got out.  At the door, under the porch lamp he turned back to me and waved.  I took that as my signal that he was fine so I left.

         The next day was Halloween.  I hadn’t thought much about Timmy or my sweater until it was time for me to leave work.  Many kids were walking along in the early evening dressed in their finest Halloween get-ups.  Along with ghosts and witches and skeletons, I noticed a Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, a pumpkin, a set of dice, and a slice of bread, all with their parents in tow.  On Arthur Street I found Timmy’s house without trouble.  A woman stood at the door giving out treats to some children.  I didn’t catch Timmy’s last name the night before, and feeling a bit foolish I approached the woman.  She looked doubtfully at me, so I smiled.  I introduced my self and asked if she was Timmy’s mother.   “What’s this about?” she said.  She looked frightened and began to back into the door.  I quickly explained how I’d given Timmy a ride the night before in the pouring rain, sure that he had told her, and had lent him my red sweater.  I said that I was simply here to pick it up.  She stood quite still, staring at me, her eyes watery with tears.

           “I’m sorry Mr. Roberts,” she said.  “My son Timmy is dead.”

Of course I was taken aback, confused, and quite frightened by her words.  I did not press Timmy’s mother. That would have been heartless.  But I left with so many questions spinning in my head.  Who had I given a ride to?  Where was this little boy?  And was he still wearing my sweater?  I investigated and I found Timmy’s last name was Van Pelt (thanks to the Internet) and that he had indeed died the summer before.  He had drowned. That night I dreamed of Timmy walking and talking with me, still pale but alive.  Sometimes I was wearing the red sweater.

         The next day to ease my haunted mind, I visited the local cemetery.  As I walked along the yellow leaves that surrounded me on the path I checked the tombstones and markers, sure in some strange supernatural way that I’d find Timmy’s resting place.  But it was not a tombstone I’d noticed first. In the distance, by the cemetery wall, was a shadow of color, contrasting with the golden leaves.  I rushed to the spot, and there, my breath caught in my chest.  Below me a small marker read Timothy Van Pelt, July18, 1997–July 5, 2007.   And lying on the yellow leaves over Timmy’s grave was my red North Face sweater.

 

      

           

 

Rock The Vote – 2008

Tags

Election 2008, vote, voting

            Have no doubt, The Wit Continuum has been out expressing the right to vote.  The polls have been busier than ever, as predicted, which we think is a good sign.  Continuing to purvey for more thoughts, ideas and images to blog in the future.  Without mounting the podium I have one more thought to express:  If you’ve not been out there to vote yet stop playing with the computer and go.  Remember, if you don’t vote, you have no right to complain, not that you would want to…. Peace

Now, Finally…Hope For America

Tags

Barack Obama, Election 2008, History, Obama, president, vote, voting

Congradulations to our friends and everyone out there who “Rocked the Vote” yesterday.  Be proud of taking part in an outstanding moment of history.  It wasn’t difficult, was it?

“Out of many we are one.”

-Barack Obama

King Once Again

Tags

Books, Duma Key, scary books, Stephen King

      

The reading of Stephen King’s Duma Key has done what the Continuum wanted it to do during the Halloween season:  Give us a good scare.  How the main character’s supernatural and powerfully chaotic art work cures his friend still astounds me–more by the fact that I believe that something similar to this is possible.  Spontaneous healing and the powers of intention are the goodies of the spiritual world…King’s world is more spooky, of course.

Favorite line:  “Be prepared to see it all. If you want to create-God help you if you do, God help you if you can-don’t you dare commit the immorality of stopping on the surface. Go deep and take your fair salvage. Do it no matter how much it hurts.”  As writers, we relate.

My Duma Key “fair salvage”:  Can’t forget that old psychotic lady in the wheelchair wearing Chuck Tailors and that vintage Mercedes that takes the characters on their final voyage to the creepy remains of a dilapidated mansion.  Unique death devices: silver harpoons, salt water, murderous paintings (which can heal too).  Red-hooded death spirited away in a china doll. Blood–”It was red!” (The red theme had me trying on a red coat at the mall-don’t ask me why?).  Persphone, the ship of the dead, anchored in the bay, waiting (all are welcome).  I was mystified by the upside-down flying birds (not too scary) and the 80 year old bones in the underground cistern.  The walking dead ghosts “wif teef” made me turn on lights in the kitchen before entering and that possessed doll that tells an old story, well, you know…(talking, moving dolls, next to clowns, are the scariest things on this earth.

In the end, we are drawn to a satisfying conclusion.  Losses are suffered but everything is tied up quite neatly.  No catches at the end (like in Pet Cemetery-wigged out at that one). 

What I can’t give back in my fair salvage is the shells.  The ocean tide sweeping in those shells under the big pink house the main character lives in on the key.  The shells clicking together as they roll in and out with the waves…whispering those haunting words…I can still hear them and probably always will.

That, my friends, is the power of words.  Really, really good ones.

Black Dress II

Tags

black dresses, dresses, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, icons, Madonna, Music

 

Madonna in Dior.  Iconic always.

The Real Snow White

Tags

fairy tales, historical figures, History, Margarete Von Waldeck, Snow White, stories, Tales, The Brothers Grimm

The poignant tale about a beautiful young woman whose life was cut mysteriously short may have been the inspiration for the folktale Snow White, written by The Brothers Grimm.  Scholars have uncovered parallels between the legendary Snow White and Margarete Von Waldeck (1533-1554).  Countess Margarete was the daughter of Philip IV, Count von Waldeck-Wildungen.  Like Snow White, Margarete had tempered relationship with her stepmother.

Margarete grew up in the town of Bad Wildungen where small children worked in copper mines owned by her brother.  The children became known as dwarfs.  They were bent and crippled from malnourishment and the terrible working conditions of the mines.  Most died before reaching the age of 20.  Another parallel is that of the man in Bad Wildungen who was caught poisoning apples in order to get even with children who were stealing from his property.  This poison apple story made it into the fairy tale.

At the age of 16, Margarete was sent to live at court in Brussels.  There she attracted the attention of a young prince, Phillip II of Spain.  It is said that Margarete had intense beauty and that she had blond hair.  The tale of Snow White, of course, expounds on her black hair, but the earlier version of Grimms book (in 1808) states that Snow White’s hair was “yellow.”  The young Spanish nobleman and Margarete fell in love, much to the anger and fears of her stepmother who hated her and the King of Spain, Phillip’s father.  A plot was made to end the relationship.   It is believed the Spanish secret police were ordered to poison Margarete, making it look as if she had fallen ill, in order to put an end to the political inconvenience the marriage would have created.

Margarete died at the age of 21.  The handwriting of her will, written shortly before her death, show evidence of tremor, no doubt caused by the poisoning.  The perpetrator was never exposed, but it could not have been her “evil” stepmother, who was already dead at the time.

The tale of Snow White has always inspired me – the Disney version, which I do not like, is plumped with fun and happiness, but the real tale is sad and poignant, riddled with mystery, and I believe probably shouldn’t end with the happy ending that fairy tales demand. It is more a tragic myth, a girl who can’t escape the immence ambitions of a powerful and psychotic woman.  Elements of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy may apply here also.

Artwork: by illustrator Angela Barrett for the beautifully designed book, Snow White, by Josephine Poole.

Sources: Wikipedia the Free Encyclopedia and Hartforth.com/Snow White

Le Chat Noir

Tags

Art, black cat, cabarets, Culture, History, Le Chat Noir, Paris

Le Chat Noir is the 19th Century cabaret in the bohemian Montemartre district of Paris.  It was opened on November 18, 1881 at 84 Boulevard Rouchechourart by the artist Rodolphe Salis, and closed in 1897 much to the disappointment of Picasso when he visited in 1900.

In its hey-day, Le Chat Noir was a bustling nightclub – part artist salon, part rowdy music hall, partially due to an illegal piano.  The cabaret published its own journal Le Chat Noir.  It was here that Salon of Incoherent Arts, the “shadow plays” and the comic monologues got their start.

Above is the famous Theophile Steinlen poster, Tournee du Chat Noir (1896)

Source: Wikipedia

Plath Still Haunts Ted Hughes

Tags

Books, letters, poets, Sylvia Plath, Ted Hughes

This past Sunday I came across the article Love, Your Ted, a review in the New York Times by David Orr.  “When gossip grows old,” the Polish writer Stanislaw Lec said, “it becomes myth.” In the case of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath, the myth made by gossip has long obscured the art made by a couple of poets.”

Orr talks about the new Letters of Ted Hughes as “illuminating aesthetic record” or, of course, the second way to view it as about the “swirling, decades-long hoo-ha brought about by his relationship with Sylvia Plath: their brief, difficult marriage; their separation due to Hughes’s affair with Assia Wevill; and Plath’s suicide shortly thereafter.  “It” ultimately involved a series of bitter clashes over Plath’s legacy, the occasional illicit removal of the surname “Hughes” from her tombstone (by aggrieved “Bell Jar” fans), a series of disputed biographies and “at least one lawsuit”…

It is unfortunate that the art of late Ted Hughes will continuously be haunted by his dead wife, but then in my “hell hath no fury over a woman scorned” way it seems justly so.  Hughes was no saint of a man.  Assia Wevill committed suicide in the same house that Sylvia Plath lived with Hughes, in the same kitchen, in the same gas-induced way Plath had used to end her life (sadly Assia took her and Hughes’s child with her) after finding out Hughes was also cheating on her.  The fragility of these women was paramount.  Ted knew what to look for and he sucked them dry.  It is only appropriate that we see their names along with his.

Pottermania Rocks On – We Are Wizards

Tags

documentary, Film, Harry Potter, movies

Amongst all the hype of the Twilight movie release this weekend I came across an interesting flick for those who don’t want to wait in line for the vampire romance.  If you like documentaries and you like Harry Potter this may just get you an hour or two of entertainment.  The filmmaker Josh Koury has produced an enlightening look at the “extreme fans” of the Harry Potter world in the film “We Are Wizards”.  And they are cashing in on their fan-o-mania.

       The film features two “geeky guys and two adorable tykes who, performing in so-called wizard rock bands like Harry and the Potters, the Hungarian Horntails and (my favorite) Draco and the Malfoys (“My dad is rich and your dad is dead”), thrash and warble noisily and sometimes pretty comically about all thing Harry Potter.  (“You messed up in potions yesterday, but everyone still thinks you’re really great, except Snape,” the Malfoys taunt Harry elsewhere.  “Cause we see you for what you really are…And it’s O.K. It’s really great.  Because I hate you.  And so does Snape.”)”

Sounds like lyrics that Pink would write if witchy-ness would strike her.  Can’t wait to catch this strangely packed portrait of obsessive subculture created inadverdently by J.K. Rowling.  Fans are fascinating, especially obsessed ones.  We wonder, too, about the followers of these bands based on Potter. 

We Are Wizards open Friday in Manhattan.

Quotes are from Even After the Books, Pottermania Rocks On by Manohla Dargis. Check out trailer and full review here.

To Blog or Not to Blog

Tags

blogging, blogs, second blogs, wordpress, Writing

I’ve opened a second blog at WordPress and at first was quite excited.  Now I’m at my …ah…wit’s end (since I’m The Wit Continuum I hate to say it) as to whether I should keep this new blog site or delete it.  I can’t find the time to keep it up and have changed its format so many times the site managers are probably laughing hysterically (if anyone monitors this stuff).  In any case I’m curious if anyone out there felt the need to “second blog” and then found themselves in a similar “I just don’t know” situation. 

What should I do?

Peace, from the wit continuum.

Twilight Falls

Tags

Film, movies, twilight

So we finally saw Twilight this past weekend.  I was happy that my experience was without the screaming of teen girls that so many other reviews claimed.  As a matter of fact, there were quite a few guys (along with girlfriends or wives) in attendance, and a peculiar row of tween Asian boys sat in front of us.  I expected hissing or snickering from them during those long, long, long romantic parts but they were quite polite.  I perhaps did more snickering.

The movie starts out intriguing enough – and the music, I must say was great throughout the flick.  Our teen and tween Continuum members reviewed it as this:  12 year old says it was “really, really good”.  She has read books one and two and is now into Eclipse.  Our 14 year old member, who hasn’t read the books, just all the hype prior to the movie release, said it was a bit slow for a while, but got interesting as it went along.  She found wide-eyed Jasper funny to look at.  She wondered where the werewolves were that so many people have been talking about.  Next (oh no) movie dear.

The first hour and a half of Twilight full of trite, half-believable dialog left me flat.  Perhaps I was deflated by the very sad performance by Kristen Stewart who plays Bella, the main character.  Many times in the scenes between Edward and Bella I felt as if I were watching a junior high play (no Academy Awards here, and I wonder what the casting director was thinking with this girl…)  After the long, long, long beginning I began to whisper, “When are the bad guys getting here” with more and more eagerness.  In fact the only piece of believable acting came from the James vampire, who threatens Bella at the end and inflicts some pretty bad damage to her and some mirrors. (By the way, in this movie vampires have reflections – and they can walk in sunlight – go figure.)  The bad guy is taken out much too easily and too swiftly – the climax of this movie takes all but five minutes – might be a movie history record.

I blogged before about reading the Twilight series and my disappointment in the weakness of the main character, her constant damsel-in-distress-rescue-me-ness that I found quite annoying, causing me to skip chapters (I was curious about the end anyway) and the sappiness of all those “forevers” and “only want to be with you” etc.  Same story in the movie.  Bella has little self-respect and not a fraction of self-reliance in the books and well as the movie.  She is so willing to give her entire life, which hasn’t even begun, to this vampire with issues it breaks my heart (or just caused me to sigh heavily during those sappy moments.  Perhaps theaters should supply sickness bags for anyone over 20, just in case.)

In any case, here’s what was good.  The trio of rogue vampires were cool, had too small a part, and were extremely nice eye candy.  A moment in the cafeteria when Bella spills her fruit platter and Edward catches the falling apple with his foot and pops it up into his hands, displaying the Twilight book cover was done well and may have been missed by some fans.  Another great moment is the climb up that 150 or so foot tree and the breathtaking view and great music in the background.  I liked the cameo of the author Stephanie Meyer in one of the diner scenes later in the movie (Stephen King does this too). 

The soundtrack, like I said, was phenomenal.  Reminds me of the so-so movie The Beach, whose soundtrack was fantastic, much better than the movie.  I will probably pick up Twilight’s also.

Oh, and, one last thing – Saw the Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince trailer in the previews beforehand.  It possibly was better than the whole  two hours of Twilight.

Fringe – the X-Files of The Deep

Tags

Anna Torv, Fringe, Joshua Jackson, T.V. shows, Television, X-files

Our favorite new show this fall, Fringe, aired the last episode last night until January.  It left us with a cliff-hanger cliche, but we still love the show. 

The show involves FBI agents investigating the not to so normal cases that arise in the field (almost X-files-ish) and includes words like pseudoscience, secret science weapons, neuropathic connections, cloning, teleportation (which was featured on last night’s show), bringing the dead to life, LSD induced dream states where one person meets another in dreams and transfers memories, the Pattern, ghost networks, and our favorite, of course, the space-time continuum.

This show makes me wonder: Were they reading my mind?

The relatively new Australian actress, Anna Torv, plays Olivia Dunham, FBI investigator who is beautiful, vulnerable, yet tough.  Leaps off a building in the first episode without thinking twice – love it!!  Joshua Jackson plays a very sensible genius with no Fed background but his jack-of-all-trades smarts make him valuable.  We remember Joshua from the Dawson’s Creek days – like him all grown up and leading.  His character’s crazy Alzheimer-ridden scientist father is played by John Noble who we previously saw (and again this past weekend) as the psychotic Denethor in Lord of the Rings-Return of the King.  Psycho then – and now in Fringe, only more lovable and fragile.  Blair Brown plays the mysterious head of a powerful conglomerate which is secretly delving into the reanimation of the dead (ala Frankenstein?) and just to make her a bit more scary she has a mechanical arm like Anakin Skywalker.  CoooooLLLLL.

Best show since the X-files in this genre – but it lacks the mystery, the who’s who, the “Are their aliens among us?” question, and “Is the truth really out there?”  And who is the Smoking man?  Oh, let’s face it, nothing will ever beat the X-files, but Fringe is still holding its own as one of the best on television.  Catch the reruns they’ve promised through December if you can.

Rowling Returns

Tags

Books, fairy tales, Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling

“The Tales of Beedle the Bard” by British author J.K. Rowling is touted as her unofficial farewell to her wizard world of Harry Potter.  We cannot wait to see this collection of fairy tales (which was mentioned in the last Potter book) enter the real world. 

Only one of the five tales – “The Tale of the Three Brothers” – was recounted in The Deathly Hallows, containing clues that help Harry and company in their quest to destroy Lord Voldemort.

All proceeds of sales generated will go to charities.  It will be distributed by Scholastic Books in the U.S.

A quote from J.K. Rowling:  “The Tales of Beedle the Bard” is really a distillation of the themes found in the Harry Potter books, and writing it has been the most wonderful way to say good-bye to a world I loved and lived in for 17 years.”

“Beedle the Bard” may not be the final final word however.  Rowling has plans for an encyclopedia on the Potter series and will also donate the proceeds to charity.      Go JoAnn!

Source: PopEater.com

Ciccone Whines, But We Still Sit and Read

Tags

Books, Christopher Ciccone, Madonna, Music, pop stars

“Life with My Sister Madonna” by Christopher Ciccone is what I’ve been tackling for the past week.  At first, this book is a fascinating romp into the pop-star rise of Madonna as told by someone on a highly personal level.  We also get Ciccone’s sense of loss as he is pulled towards and pushed away from Madonna as her needs insist.

Though the bio is written with Wendy Leigh, we still hear Ciccone’s voice shine through the page, his childhood angst growing up poor in Michigan, the longed for memories of his mother who died when he was young, the realization of his sexuality, and coming of age in the shadow of Madonna.

The book opens with a back stage tour de force of his role as Madonna’s designer for the Girlie Show Tour in 1993, with the step by step accounts of getting Madonna ready, sound checks, and hearing the first roar of the crowd as the first strains of circus music boom through Wembly Stadium.  (Interesting trivia note here: Dancing With The Stars judge, Carrie Ann Inaba, is mentioned as the first dancer to appear on Madonna’s concert stage, “slithering down a forty-foot pole, naked, except for a red G-string”.)

The book proceeds to absorb you into the self-centered, yet fascinating world of Madonna.  It was a great read, probably better suited for the so-so Madonna fan.  Madonna is shone to be a self-serving queen, surrounded by sycophants and “yes” men as her only company.  A bit fluffy at times and whiny at others, but the pace is fast enough to keep the reader involved.  Ciccone’s fixation on the money his sister makes and his subsequent lack of it becomes tiring, as well as his baby-ish complaining that Madonna never paid him enough for all the decorating he did for her. She is constantly portrayed as being greedy and egotistical with total disregard to her brother’s and her family’s needs.  I can’t imagine that Madonna is happy with this book about her, and I began wondering what kind of e-mails (They do a lot of fighting through e-mails) she must have sent her brother regarding it, if she has even read it. 

All and all through the fights, in which Ciccone continually capitulates and goes back to serving his sister (why I don’t know, except for his constant need to connect with his sister, and of course, because he’s broke and his car was repossessed), the hate-filled wedding to Guy Richie (he seems to be an insensitive bastard), the complaining about Madonna’s lack of acknowledging the gay community which got her started way back when – when? the 80s (perhaps she has paid her debt to them by now?), the Kabbalah, and even the work Madonna does in Malawi is questioned (validly, I might add), I couldn’t wait to finish the book – I mean I couldn’t wait to get through to the end of it.  What was fascinating at first, turns sour by the end, and not because Madonna seems to be a money spending, controlling bitch, but because the story simply becomes tiring.  Madonna fans be wary.

Anna Torv

Tags

actresses, Anna Torv, Fringe, Television

Anna Torv, Australian actress from Fox’s latest hit show, Fringe.

We at The Wit Continuum love her for her sublime, elegant glam.

Saint Faith

Tags

Bona Fides, Goddesses, History, Rome, St. Faith

As one of the personifications of the three Virtues, Faith, Hope, and Charity, Saint Faith really originated as one the oldest pagan Goddesses.  Her Roman name was Bona Fides, which means “Good Faith.”  She was invoked in all legal contracts.  Plutarch said her temple was built by the first king of Latium.  Virgil said that Faith was one of Rome’s oldest lawgiving Goddesses.  Bona Fides did have one of Rome’s oldest temples, served by three senior Flamines, the core of the ancient Roman clergy.

In her Christianized form, Faith received a crypt in St. Paul’s cathedral in London.  Letting their imaginations soar, martyrologists raved over her famous physical beauty.  Perhaps because of this, she became a popular patroness of romance.   English girls used to pray for a vision of their future husbands, addressing St. Faith after passing a piece of bread three times through a wedding ring. 

Source: The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

The Graveyard Spiral: Two Stars Fall

Tags

artists, deaths, Jeremy Blake, suicide, Theresa Duncan

                In aviation, a graveyard spiral is  a dangerous spiral dive entered accidentally by a pilot and of which the pilot is initially unaware.

(Theresa Duncan, writer, blogger, creator of video games, and Jeremy Blake, digital artist, had been together for 12 years before entering their own graveyard spiral.)

                 Graveyard spirals typically occure in instrument meteorological conditions, when the pilot loses awareness of the aircraft’s altitude and allows the aircraft to enter a gentle banking turn.

(It is to be guessed that the “gentle banking turn” in Duncan and Blake’s life began with the move to Los Angeles where the film careers they sought were to take off.)

                 A pilot who allows their plane to bank into a turn while under the impression that it is still flying parallel may do so at first because they are not able to see the horizon or land underneath them.  Barriers to vision might  be clouds, fog, darkness, or unfeatured terrain such as the ocean.

(Theresa’s vision of her life became blocked by a fog in the form of wild insites and connections of things not normally connected, a great talent when you write or make movies for a living, as she did, but her fog also included paranoid delusions, misconceptions, and beliefs in conspiracies with increasing number.   When events did not go as she planned, she blamed others.)

                 Such a pilot might not realize their position even though indicators in the panel clearly show the actual position.

(Duncan was sure that Scientologists had something against her and Blake and were secretly sabotaging their careers.  If anyone indicated to her that this was simply not true, that Duncan was clearly not “flying straight” in this vein of thought, Duncan would dismiss them, even going as far as to disregard their friendships, the “instruments” right in front of her eyes.  How does one become so obsessed with beliefs?)

                 An inexperienced and incompetent pilot may be scared by the situation, might not check the instruments, or assume them to be malfunctioning because the senses of the pilot indicate straight and level flight strongly.  The pilot may feel level but descending flight.  This impression leads to the pilot “pulling up” or attempting to climb by pulling up on the controls.

(Duncan’s life was wrapped in the assuredness that she was correct in her thinking, that everyone else was wrong.  She pushed forward, did her work, only to find when confronted to take on the assumption that others are out to get her.  There was a plagiarizing of a review article that she had written, an attempt  to “pull up” on the control of her life.  When confronted, she denied it, saying Scientologists had changed the date of the article in question, that the original was copied from hers.)

                    Pulling back on controls on a plane in a banking turn, which is in effect creating a large circle in the sky, creates and even smaller circle and causes the plane to descend as part of the lift being generated by the wings which is directed sideways.

(Duncan and Blake compose a report on the FBI, the government, and the church of Scientology, to present in a lawsuit to prove the conspiracy to ruin their careers.  Articles indicate they may have used drugs, which could have inhibited the clearer thinking their lives required.)

                    Only when the turning circle gets very small will the passengers notice unusual sensations.  At that point the aircraft is in a descending circle or spiral.

(In her mind, Duncan was sure that her L.A. neighbors were in on the plot against them.  Erratic behavior gets her and Blake evicted from their house in Venice Beach.  Plans, projects fall through for both, do to their estrangement from all around them – a descending circle.  They pick up and head back to New York.)

                   Conflicting sensory mis-impressions and a temporary case of vertigo cause the mind and body of the pilot incapable of judging their position.  In such cases the vertigo may cause airsickness.

(Establishing themselves back in New York worked for a few months.  Blake resumed his former job with a video game company, a step back for him.  Theresa continues her blog site, her only form of work, which becomes increasingly paranoid and strange.)

                   The pilot who needs at that point, more than ever, to reach for the controls and orient their aircraft but may be too sick and appear to even be intoxicated in their struggle to regain control.

(Just weeks before their deaths, both Duncan and Blake refuse to leave their apartment to attend a fund-raising party which they had planned that was taking place in the garden downstairs.  Guests of the party ask for them throughout the evening.  Finally, Theresa and Jeremy send word that they will not be attending the party because they had both shared a vision of the grill outside blowing up and harming Theresa.)

                    In any case the ever tightening, descending spiral eventually leads to the ground.

(Theresa committs suicide by ingesting a bottle of Tylenol PM with bourbon.  One week later, on the eve of her memorial service, Jeremy walks into the Atlantic Ocean.  He had found Theresa’s body with a note that she was at peace with her decision, as he seemed to be with his.  His body was found five days later.) 

                   That is what is referred to by pilots as a graveyard spiral.

 

 

(In life, one can be on one’s own graveyard spiral….It always ends the same.)

 

 

Source: Wikipedia: The graveyard Spiral – aviation

Picture: Theresa Memorial on the Chelsea Hotel.

What Was All the “Eau de” About?

Tags

blogging, celebrity perfumes, Culture, Jeremy Blake, perfume, Slate Magazine, Theresa Duncan, Writers

                I have recently found the article Theresa Duncan penned for Slate Magazine in March, 2006.  This was the perfume article posted by Theresa called “Eau de Us Weekly: Secretly Wonderful Celebrity Perfumes”  for which she was scrutinized for her plagiarism.  The opening of the article is where the “copying” occurs and is compared to that of Victoria Frolova’s blog along with Slate’s apology to Frolova.  Here’s the opening paragraph in its entirety.

 

              “When did we start wanting to smell like celebrities?  Browsing the perfume aisles at Sephora these days is like flipping through an issue of Hello!  (Editor’s note:  This sentence was unacceptable close to the following sentence from a posting on Bois de Jasmin, Victoria Frolova’s blog about perfume:  “Walking through the fragrance aisles of Sephora makes me feel as if I am browsing through a Hello magazine with the names like Britney Spears, J.Lo, Paris Hilton, and Kimora Lee Simmons popping before my eyes.”  Slate apologizes to Ms. Frolova.)  Tasteful displays devoted to classics like Chanel No. 5 have give away to brasen pink stands touting Britney Spears’ or Paris Hilton’s latest fragrance.  From J. Lo to Celine Dion to Maria Sharapova to Kimora Lee Simmons to Alan Cumming, anyone ever boldfaced by Page Six seems to have a signature scent.”

 

               So I ask, what was all the stink about?  The rest of the article is so catchy and sharp with wit, as only the “Wit” herself could have written that I do wonder why she even bothered to paraphrase Ms. Frolova’s one sentence in the first place.  One sentence.  Perhaps Theresa had jotted it down as something catchy to remember and had simply forgotten to “source” it.  I jot things others say or write all the time- with notation however.  Theresa’s denial is questionable.  In the California Magazine (October 2007) article Folie a Deux written by Laurie Winer it is stated that Duncan blamed Scientologists for the mishap by changing the date of Frolova’s article to make herself and her boyfriend Jeremy Blake look bad.   In any case, we love her work anyway.  I was elated to find her article.  Catch the entire “Eau de” here if you wish.

  [ I am also looking for Theresa Duncan's short story "Topographers" which was published in Bald Ego, but cannot get linked to the mag or the story.  If any one knows where or how, I'd appreciate it.   Peace.]

Jen and Kate Bare All

Tags

actresses, Culture, fashion, Jennifer Aniston, Kate Winslet, magazines, nudity, women

Our take on the December covers of GQ and Vanity Fair magazines. 

            We aren’t sure why Jennifer Aniston found it necessary to literally expose herself to GQ this month.  The cover shot (which we’ve chosen not to show here) features her wearing only a men’s tie and should possibly be age rated.  Yes, in the photo spread she looks fabulous (her smooth, smooth, 40 year old thighs are of photo re-touch heaven…?) but why she chose to so blatantly objectify herself for a men’s magazine is beyond us.  Un-provocative and unnecessary.  (Anison sports a nasty “come get me” grin in a majority of the photos which saddens us.  I guess most people would think she was having fun.)  In any case, we find no artistic value here.  Sorry Jen.  We like you, but…

               Of all the pics we sort of like this one:

                 Kate Winslet however stopped our hearts.  For Vanity Fair cover this month we salute Kate’s classic-always style and in the these pics, and the ones in the issue, she evokes the screen goddess that she is along with an uncanny look of Catherine Deneuve. 

Outer Space Cinema? Where Do We Buy the Popcorn?

Tags

aliens, Culture, Film, Keanu Reeves, movies, outer space, The Day the Earth Stood Still

 

             Last Friday the remake of the 1951 movie “The Day the Earth Stood Still”  not only opened here on Earth but was launched into space.  Apparently a broadcast of the movie was beamed out by the three-year-old Florida company called Deep Space Communications Network which has beamed, among other things, whale songs into space.  According to its website, for $299 anyone can beam a five minute signal into space. 

              Mmmmm…….makes me wonder………….

It was suggested in NY Times article I read that recordings of Bach be sent out (why not the best?) which, of course, we agree.  But Bach’s concertos have seen the sites of all the planets and beyond already – being one of the recordings on the Voyager space craft which was launched in 1976.  (If I’m not mistaken, we have lost contact with the Voyager which has left our galaxy and is well on its way into the universe beyond). 

             In any case, if aliens do get to view our movies it staggers the imagination as to what they’ll think. 

             “The Day the Earth Stood Still” is on our “Must See” List for December (would love it at I-Max) and we do hope we get to see it before the ETs do.        Oh, not to worry, Deep Space’s broadcast won’t reach its Alpha Centauri destination in four light years.  

              Pass the popcorn, please…..

The World’s Oldest Cat

Tags

cats, Culture, Guiness Book of World Records

With our love for black cats, even the mostly black cat, The Wit Continuum could not resist this story. 

An English cat named Mischief recently celebrated his 27th birthday (which insidently in cat years makes him 125 or so) in Cornwall.  The Guiness Book of World Records puts this kitty as the current world’s oldest living cat.

The owners say he is going strong and “still manages to jump over the stair gate.”  Born in 1981, Mischief is as old as MTV, Beyonce, and Pac-Man.  And older than the oldest Jonas Brother by six years. 

Still, the record for the longest living cat in recorded history was Cream Puff, a Texas feline who died three years ago at the rip old age of 38.

Source: The World’s Oldest Cat Turns 125  by Julianne Smolinski for Lemondrop

Black Dress III

Tags

black dresses, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Kate Winslet, The Reader

             Kate Winslet at the opening of “The Reader.”

The Heights of Macchu Picchu

Tags

archeology, Current events, Maccho Piccho, Pablo Neruda, Peru, places

“The disputes over who discovered or rediscovered the sacred site have become so contentious they have been living up to the phrase “the fights of Maccho Picchu,” coined by the American writer Daniel Buck in an allusion to a Pablo Neruda Ode,  “Heights of Macchu Picchu.”

Look at me from the depth of the earth,

laborer, weaver, silent shepherd:

tamer of wild llamas like spirit images:

construction worker on a daring scaffold:

waterer of the tears of the Andes:

jeweler with broken fingers:

farmer trembling as you sow:

potter, poured out into your clay:

bring to the cup of this new life

your old buried sorrows. 

                                                                    – Pablo Neruda, from the Heights of Maccho Picchu

This is a place on The Wit Continuum’s must visit list.

Photo: Moises Samen for The New York Times

Article exerpt: NYTimes, The Lost City of the Incas

Ho, Ho, Ho…Merry Christmas and …

Tags

Christmas, Neil Gaiman, Nicholas, St. Nicholas, stories, Tales

With the season swiftly bearing down on us I have found under the Continuum’s spiral staircase another story with a strangeness that confounds us.  Written by one of my favorites, Neil Gaiman, “Nicholas was…” was published in his demented collection of short stories called Smoke and Mirrors.  It is one hundred words long, 102 counting the title, and Gaiman had it elegantly calligraphed one year to send out to everyone he could think of as a Christmas card.  Mmmmm……..(“Mmmmm…….” means we wonder at this with strange admiration.) 

 

Nicholas Was…

older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter.  He wanted to die.

            The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.

            Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night.  During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves’ invisible gifts by its bedside.  The children slept, frozen into time. 

           He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas.  His punishment was harsher.

          Ho.

          Ho.

          Ho.

Frankly Scarlett…

Tags

album covers, Music, Scarlett Johansson, Sinead O'Conner

 

Love this album cover…

Much prettier than the content within…took me three days to figure out who she sounded like… (recalling some voice from long ago…)   Then it came to me – Sinead O’Conner.  Just a bit, or so.  

Peace.

Neil Gaiman’s “Coraline”

Tags

animation, Books, Coraline, movies, Neil Gaiman

              The animated movie “Coraline” will be hitting theaters in February 2009.  We saw the behind-the-scenes trailer during the Mummy III previews the other night and the movie looks fantastic.  (I dare say the Coraline trailer may have been better than the whole  Mummy movie…).  Coraline’s cast will include Terry Hatcher as the voice of both the mothers and Dakota Fanning as that of Coraline. 

              The book, which we recently found under the spiral staircase, is a mysterious romp of the young girl Coraline into a new, exciting, fun and yet shivering-ly evil parallel world where she meets a new “mother” and is showered with delicacies she always wished for.  But things, of course, are not quite what they appear to be at first.  The characters of the story are lively and built beautifully, especially the two ladies from downstairs, former actress/dancers of the London stage who are possibly the reason Coraline doesn’t loose her way forever in the other sinister world.   And, of course, the mysterious talking black cat we find especially intriguing.

            All in all, Coraline is a nice tale, though we find some parts may be too scary for some younger readers.  It is an adventure in which the main character learns how to use her own wits and intelligent investigations to outsmart a clever, creeepy villianess while finding a way to rescue others in need and placing them before herself.  An enlightening, if disturbing, masterpiece from Mr. Gaiman. 

             We cannot wait for the movie from director Henry Selick, the guy behind The Nightmare Before Christmas.  Coraline is filmed in stop-motion animation instead of computer generated characters.  Extra, extra thumbs up.

2009: A New Venture – A New Journey

Tags

2009, blogging, Happy New Year, journey, musings, wordpress

According to the novelist John Gardner, there are just two kinds of stories in literature:  you go on a journey, or a stranger arrives in your world.

The Wit Continuum’s destiny in 2009 is to reap rich rewards by including both of these plotlines in my life story.  So let the brainstorming begin!

What’s the best journey you could choose for yourself – - a journey that will educate, challenge, and delight you?

And what can you do to attract the best kinds of strangers into your world — strangers who will educate, challenge, and delight you?

                 Blogging in this fine WordPress community should do the trick in part. 

                Peace. …….and Happy New Year to all…..

 

Source: Free Will Astrology

“My Carefully Prepared Opening Line…”

Tags

inspiration, Katherine Anne Porter, publishing, women, Writers, Writing

On this first day of 2009 I find Katherine Anne Porter inspiring and challenging. 

“If you came here hoping for a miracle, there can be none.  If you believe that you have paid to receive here a magic formula, a secret you may use at will, you have done no such thing.  Writing, in any sense that matters, cannot be taught.  It can only be learned, and learned by each separate one of us in his own way, by the use of his own powers of imagination and perception, the ability to learn the lessons he has set for himself.  That is, if your intention is to try yourself out, to find whether or not you have the makings of an artist. … In the present fevered rush to publish just anything and anybody, and all the critics hailing all wrting on his own level of understanding as great, with books and poets of the year, of the month, of the hour, of the minute, we can get a little confused.  Be calm.  The real poet, the real novelist, will emerge out of the uproar.  He will be here, he is even now on his way.”

From: “Writing Cannot Be Taught…” (1954 )  in Porter: Collected Stories and Other Writings

Photo: 1933

Which Way

Tags

poem, poems, poetry, roads, Robert Creeley

Which one are you

and who would know.

Which way

would you have come this way.

And what’s behind,

beside, before,

If there are more,

why are there more.

–Robert Creeley

The “Fear-est” Phobia

Tags

blogging, Books, Culture, humorous, miscellaneous, musings, phobias, psychology, thoughts, words

Phobia, phobia in my head,

Who’s the “fear-est” I should dread?….

                  Do any of you have novercophobia?  This is the intense fear of your stepmother (or what you might call the Snow White-Cinderella syndrome.)

                 The word “phobia” comes from Phobos, the son of Ares (the god of war).  Phobos’s brother was Deimos (god of terror) and his aunt was Eris (goddess of discord).  Phobos no doubt suffered from syngenescophobia, or the intense fear of your relatives.  Just imagine one of his family reunions.

                Franklin D. Roosevelt once said, “We have nothing to fear but fear itself” which is phobophobia – yes, fear of fear.

                Phobias surround the animal kingdom.  Who doesn’t know someone who is an arachnophobe, one that fears spiders.  Harry Potter’s pal Ron Weasley suffered this one.  Or do you perhaps fear mice?  Then you have musophobia, which has a nice ring to it.  Cynophobia is the fear of dogs and aelurophobiais the fear of cats.  I think I can safely say that I don’t know anyone who with one of these fears – wait, never mind, I know an aelurophobe (pathetic-yes?).  Then there’s herpetophobia, the fear of snakes (think Indiana Jones).   Perhaps Alfred Hitchcock’s film The Birds has given you ornithophobia, or the movie Jaws helped you develop ichthyophobia, the fear of fish (no more aquarium visits?)

                The Wit Continuum’s favorite cartoon which we spy each year at Christmas contains our favorite “phobic” scene.  In A Charlie Brown Christmas we find Lucy, in her psychology booth, seeking to help the bumbed-out Charlie Brown get over his holiday blues.  She goes through a list of phobias, including the fear of cats.  Here’s how it ends up.

Lucy:   Maybe you have pantophobia.  Do you think youhave pantophobia?

Charlie Brown:  What’s pantophobia?

Lucy:  The fear of everything.

Charlie Brown:  (thinks for a beat then yells)  That’s it!

              Han Christian Anderson suffered from a strange phobia I honestly have never heard of.  Taphephobia, the fear of being buried alive.   He went as far as to carry notes with him to remind people that if he was unconscious not to assume he was dead and he kept a note at his bedside stating that he may “seem dead” but was merely asleep.  (We wonder at this great writer…)

                Here’s one for the books.  The deathly fear of getting peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth – arachibutyrophobia.  The fear of the number 13?  No kidding – triskaidekaphobia, which breaks down to three-and-ten-fear.

Phobia, phobia, in my head…here is the “fearest” I should dread…

The fear of words – no books, no blogging – count me out

Verbaphobia is not what we’re about.

The End in 2012?

Tags

2012, beliefs, conciousness, Culture, end of the world, History, History Channel, Mayan Calendar, Meso America, musings

More doom and gloom appears on the History Channel this week which they call Armageddon week, or some bullshit of the sort, and the programs range from the “impending” ice age to Nostradamus’s end of the world predictions as well as the Mayan Calendar stories.  In case you haven’t heard, the Mesoamerican Mayan long count calendar ends on December 21 in the year 2012, just four years from now.  So called experts believe this means that the end of the world will happen then, thus we have been inundated with these stories for years now: end of the world – or not, maybe, possibly, there’s a chance, global warming a sign, or maybe not, new ice age? we’re all going to starve to death? – or not, maybe….there’s a chance……..CUT ME A BREAK.

I don’t know about anyone else out there, but I’m getting bored with it all.  The streak of paranoid delusion has yet struck again, and there are people who are worried, praying, and banking their decisions of the future on this “possible end” the Mayan calendar is so sure of. 

The “experts” agree something is about to happen.  More harbingers of the coming end time include UFO sightings, crop circle formations, disappearing honey bees, disappearing bat populations, and flocks of migratory birds falling from the sky.  The belief in the world coming to an end is rooted in ancient history – long before biblical history, in ancient Hindu texts and Asiatic acts of astronomic observations as well as the calendar calculations of the ancient Maya.  Why does the calendar end on that date? Maybe the Mayan dude (or dudette) who was the calendar keeper developed a case of triskaidekaphobia, the fear of the number 13 (see my phobia blog from yesterday) and decided this 2012 was a good date as any to quit, or maybe he or she died before appointing a new calendar writer to take over, or perhaps, no one wanted the job.  (I know, I know…but  really, is this any more corny than some of the crap people believe?????????)

Here are some other dooms-day beliefs that have gone around:

The Shakes believed the world would end in 1792.  

Great disappointment among the followers of William Miller, who fixed the date of doom on March 21, 1843.  Miller’s followers were afire with enthusiasm, but still failed to see Christ descending from the clouds as expected.  Miller decided he had miscalculated and set a new date on October 21 of the same year.  “On the appointed day  of doom frenzied believers donned their robes, tucked an ultimate lunch in the folds, and took their places on housetops, facing east.  On the 22nd they ate their lunch and climbed down.  Miller confesses his disappointment, but insisted ‘the day of the Lord is at the door.’”  The Millerites never gave up hope, and offshoot sects still exist today. 

Oriental sages said a Day of Brahma lasted a thousand years.  On the basis of that scripture it was decided that the world would end in the year 1000 A.D.  With the approach of that year, Europe was seized by an apocalyptic mania.  Towns and farms were abandoned.  Fanatics ran about announcing the Last Days.  In some places, commerce came virtually to a standstill.  The year passed uneventfully enough, but human society suffered greatly from famines and civil disorders caused by the doomsday belief. 

It may be in our genetic code, our human natures, to always be thinking that the world will end.  Perhaps we need to feel that all could just stop, with or without us dying in the process, and perhaps some of us do not need to feel this at all.  One thing always rings for me with these prophecies, that the world as we know it will end.  The key words are “as we know it”.   Instead of a literal change on the earth, perhaps a shift in consciousness will be the change, and the result will be make the world quite new, different, and free.  Maybe, just maybe, the end will be a good thing.

sources: Wikipedia and The Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

drawings Link:  printouts of today’s date from the Mesoamerican Long Count Calendar

Viewing “Twilight” Yet Again

Tags

actors, cinema, entertainment, Film, Golden Globe Awards, Heath Ledger, movies, teen, teens, twilight

Yes, yes…we did it.  Saw Twilight again.  The teen members of The Wit Continuum had one last friend who actually hadn’t seen it yet, so we took her.  (We went to a strange historic cinema in town that’s been refurbished and only shows movies that are just about to hit video for $4 on weekends.)  In any case, seeing it again has not helped the Continuum’s opinion of the film, sorry to say, but we did enjoy getting to see the bad vampires again.  The girls, of course, enjoyed it just as much, but found it funnier for some reason they said.  With the simmering emotions of “dear me, what will happen to helpless Bella” not running through their veins I guess the real soul of the movie comes through.  Too bad there isn’t one.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

On another note….

Last night at The Golden Globe Awards Heath Ledger, yet again receives best supporting actor award for his role in The Dark Night.  We sympathize with his loss (loved Knight’s Tale and 10 Things I Hate About You from a few years back) and know that he will be missed.  But seriously, does anyone really think, talented though he was, that he would have received these awards if he hadn’t died?  My guess is that he wouldn’t have, which is not a criticism of Mr. Ledger, but of these political award show “academies” as it were. 

News from 2008 We Can’t Forget

Tags

2012, big bang machine, galaxies, galaxy, Men in Black

Einstein’s Dream and the Big Bang Machine.

Back in August and September I was fascinated with this Big Bang Machine (or technically the Large Hadron Collider) created by those Swiss geeks and built on the Swiss/French border.  By slamming atoms together they’ll try to create (on a very small scale) the effects of, and possibly prove, the theory of the Big Bang and the core creation of the universe.

What has been popping into my head since reading about this is the movie, Men in Black, in which a tiny galaxy is carried around in a bobble attached to the neck of a cat.   I say this because one of the results of this test with this 7 mile, $10 billion machine could be the creation of a microscopic star system…or, as many are worried about and have even issued a law suit over, they might create a black-hole that will suck us all into doom? 

But what if they create one of those nano-bit universes?  What if there are tiny life forms in it?  Are we then to become Gods? 

As of September 20th 2007, a glitch is some power switch postponed the tests.  And a few days later, they had to shut it down the BBM completely….until spring of 2009. 

Well, we can all breathe a sigh of relief for now.  No end of the planet by being sucked into a black hole, no “globe-gobbling catastrophe, and no mini-galaxies to worry about being gods of.  Fwehh! (I symbolically wipe my brow).

but then I think……..spring is just around the corner………..

or, What if these geniuses get this Big Bang Machine working by 2012?!!!!!!?   Oh, my……………

Free Will Astrology – Gemini

Tags

Culture, fears, Free Will Astrology, Gemini, musings, phobia, phobias

How I so love a coincidence, if there is such a thing, for perhaps its The Wit Continuum’s pro-noia in action.  In any case, I find it peculiar that I blogged about phobias a few days back and Free Will Astrology has more to add this week……..

“Its a favorable time for you to phase out at least 60% of your old stale fears.  The cosmos is poised to assist you in this noble cause if you’ll exert a modicum of effort……

Well, here’s an idea that might work:  Simply replace your old fears with a slew of silly and outlandish ones.  They’ll allow you to feel the friction you rely on to feel alive, but they won’t bog you down with heavy stagnancy.

For example, you could contract automatonophobia, the fear of ventriloquist’s dummies” (I have a phobophobia that I already have this one!) “and apeirophobia, the fear of infinity.  Other good choices might be kyphophobia, the fear of stooping, and lutraphobia, the fear of otters.”

Its a wonder that having certain fears serves some people, who are dependent of their set limitations to get through life and potentially the attentions of others who they fear may seem more important than themselves.  Don’t get me wrong, if you seriously have a phobia I respect this and don’t necessarily think you’re making it up or anything, but I know a hypochondriac (you know, those who love to have something wrong with them at every given moment, “My back is out”  My knee is bad” “I get sick from that” “I’m allergic to everything”) who, when all else fails, pulls aelurophobia, the fear of cats, out of his hat.

Source: Free Will Astrology – Gemini-week of January 14 

 (Just a note: We were guessing the pic featuring the tarot card ”adventure” symbolizes the adventure of letting go those old fears and starting new — but we just love the white tiger within.   Peace.)

Obama Rocks the Day

Tags

Barack Obama, Culture, Current events, History, inauguration

Of course, The Wit Continuum is watching the continuum-ous coverage of the inauguration, thus no work is getting done.  Hope those of you out there doing the same enjoy this day as much as I do. 

Barack – on!

Mirror Mirror On The Wall…

Tags

Art, Culture, Danny Rozen, fairy tales, furniture, ghosts, interactive art, mirrors, pixels

 

Would you hang this mirror in your living-room?

Writing for Environmental Graffiti, Thomas Davie shows the work of interactive artist Danny Rozen who created a mirror out of 830 wood blocks.  The clever concept:  a tiny camera gathers image info, sends it through a computer which then shifts the hundreds of tiny blocks into the image in front of the device. 

“The result is a sort of ghostly image, imprinted upon the wooden pixels like a haunted trace and just like a real mirror the image moves in real time – although the effect is more like some kind of spirit mimicking its subject than your average mirror.”

Sounds spooky…and looks a bit spooky too.  Imagining the sounds the tiny haunted blocks make when when you move past it……..    

Link: Thomas Davie for Environmental Graffiti

Shocking Indifference To Drowned Victims

Tags

Culture, Current events, drownings, indifference, Italy, news 2008

More news from 2008 that The Wit Continuum cannot forget.  Article found in July on CNN.com/europe: 

“Italians wereexpressing outrage over published photos that show beach-goers near Naples going about their day as the bodies of two Roma girls lay on the shore.  The girls had drowned earlier in the day, but the tragedy draws attention to what one group calls Italy’s atmosphere of “racism” toward Gypsies.

“While the lifeless bodies of the girls were still on the sand, there were those who carried on sunbathing or having lunch just a few meters away,” Italian newspaper La Repubblica said.  The young girls reportedly had come to the beach with two others to sell trinkets.  They then went swimming but were overpowered by the strong currents.  Lifeguards were able to save only two of them. 

Their bodies were eventually laid out on the sand under beach towels to await collection by authorities who arrived hours later to carry them away in coffins.  The incident also drew condemnation from the Archbishop of Naples.  “Indifference is not an emotion for human beings,” he wrote in his parish blog.”

Three photos show the sunbathers (as above) near the bodies, another shows the coffins being carried past those lounging in their beach chairs, and another, which we find so appallingly disrespectful, a guy talking on a cell phone  not two feet from girls’ bodies, as if they were piles of sea weed washed ashore.  I wonder if the people in these photos admit it to anyone they know.  I could only hope not.

The Creative Comeback of Rugs

Tags

Art, conversation pieces, Culture, decor, Design, home, mats, rugs, weburbanist

“Seyed Alavi’s Flying Carpet – which you can see at Sacramento Airport – foregoes suggestion in favor of reality.  Walk the length of it, and you “fly” the length of the Sacramento River in aerial photography.”

In “Creative Modern Rugs- Mat Designs” we’ve found a myriad of urban-comical rugs to stimulate the imagination – and the conversations in your home.  Would you perhaps incorporate either of these precious finds?

Uh…Yes, it is Road Kill Carpet, “a luxurious square of rich carpet adorned at one corner with a messy depiction of an ex-fox.”

Sunny Side Up Rug?

Link: Weburbanist.com    via: Leesa Leva

Theresa Duncan Memorial Film

Tags

blogs, Jeremy Blake, The Wit of the Staircase, Theresa Duncan, Theresa Duncan Memorial film

To all of us who are Duncan-ologists, that esoteric group who have become obsessive fans of Theresa Duncan’s life and her blog The Wit of the Staircase, and to the other children of the staircase, Mary Duncan, Theresa’s mother has posted on the blog site a memorial film that was played at Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake’s memorial.  With much excitement, we’ve been hopelessly trying to view the film, only to get a black emptiness in the window that opens. 

In any case, it is supposed to feature some footage of a film called “Charlotte Goes Swimming” of which Theresa starred in the lead role. 

We are sincerely hoping the problem with the broadcast of this film finds a solution.  Longing to see the enigmatic personality that her mother, Mary, has promised to show in her honor.

Typing With Tuesday

Tags

dogs, Theresa Duncan, Tuesdays, typing

Since I’ve still had no luck viewing the Theresa Duncan memorial film I’m posting one of my favorite pics of Theresa with her dog, Tuesday, on Tuesday.

Peace….

Theresa Duncan Memorial Film 2

Tags

daughters, memorials, Theresa Duncan, Theresa Duncan Memorial film

The Wit Continuum has finally viewed the Theresa Duncan Memorial Film, with much thanks to Debbi for all her help and info.  The Film shows excerpts of the Wilbur King film I believe is titled “Charlotte Goes Swimming” and features a musical background that creates a haunting, yet lovely, tribute.  Theresa is maybe 25 in the memorial film.  We Duncanologists would have liked to see her visually later in her life, but it was a nice film posted by her mother, a nice dedication.  Theresa looks very sweet in the end, innocent and free, as any mother would like to see her own daughter.

A soft voice in the beginning, which I can only assume is Theresa’s, says: “May it come, may it come, the time we fall in love with.”

Peace…

Link: Theresa Duncan 1966-2007 Memorial Film

Great Authors That Left Us Too Soon

Tags

Books, cancer, Current events, ER, John Updike, Jurassic Park, Michael Crichton, movies, Writer's deaths, Writers

Sad to hear this week about the death of the great John Updike.  The Witches of Eastwick, and the 2008 follow-up The Widows of Eastwick have been on the reading list.  Updike was 76 and died from lung cancer.

Another writer we love died back in November of 2008.  Michael Crichton, the creator of ER, died at the age of 66 from cancer.  We’ve read Time Line, Prey, Jurassic Park, and The Lost World.   In Jurassic Park, we love the brilliant Butterfly Effect/Chaos Theory dialogue by the character Ian Malcolm.  You only get a taste of it in the movie.  It’s worth the read. 

Both of these writers will be greatly missed….

Peace….

Nasty Comments Make Me Wonder

Tags

blogging, blogs, comments, culturally inept, nasty comments

Today I received a nasty, and poorly written, comment on my About page and I can’t help but rant about it.  Unfortunately I deleted the cancerous message but I believe I was called “unrespectful” (which isn’t a word at all) and basically culturally inept.  You know, we all like to blog because we have something to say, something to share, a need to express ourselves, and undoubtedly like to write, whether its good shit or bad shit (and we know there is plenty of it out there).  But, to take the time to charter out a paragraph of plain insult, even asking someone to “just stop” is pretty lame.  Maybe I don’t appreciate some of the blogs I hit, find them strange or whatever (I hit one with a guy wearing strange scary masks which I found quite disgusting) yet I didn’t  tell them to quit their expression simply because I found it unappealing. 

I’ve had  numerous comments made to my blog site, some out there, and some private.  And I have given my expression with  friends and new followers who like to keep tabs on the discoveries and interests contained here.  I write what I love, or find peculiar, or just admire…and if that makes me “culturally” inept – so be it.   This comment maker no doubt needs to check on the importance of their own thoughts and how they express them.

I have on my armor, as we all do.

Now, on to better things…

Peace…

Yet Another Phobia: The Fear Of Buttons

Tags

Books, buttons, Coraline, movies, Neil Gaiman, phobias

The fear of buttons, also known as koumpounophobia, has been brought to my attention by the author of Coraline, Neil Gaiman.  (Previously I blogged about phobias, and have thus been in this little synchronicity of finding more and more phobic artifacts).  Check out Neil Gaiman’s Button Trailer for the film Coraline, based on his book.  The trailer appears on his Thursday, Jan.29, 2009 blog.  By the way, the trailer was shot in his house, and he does an incredibly fine job pronouncing the above phobia with his British accent, making it sound quite eloquent.

Buttons of Love to all.

Link: Neil Gaiman Journal

Tuesday with Theresa: A Quote

Tags

cologne, fashion, perfume, quotes, Theresa Duncan

 

“My cologne is called Santa Ana after the powerful winds that bring desert heat and faraway smell into the city.

It smells like: Celluloid and sand, coyote fur and car exhaust, contrail cloud and chlorine, bitter orange and stage blood and one bushel of ghostly, shivery night blooming jasmine flowers like blown kisses from the phantoms of the ten thousand screen beauties who still haunt our hills every full moon because they think it’s a stage light.”

 

Quote by Theresa Duncan for LAist Magazine.

Black Dress IV

Tags

Art, black dresses, fashion, fashion posters, Girl in the Black Dress, Kimmy Han, posters

 

Perfect Black Dress

Poster by artist Kimmy Han

All Posters.com

What Tarot Card Are You?

Tags

Am I trying to sell snake oil?, magician, tarot cards, What Tarot Card Are You?

Time for a new tarot card.  This is the one I was delt after taking the test. 

You are The Magician.

Skill, wisdom, adaptation.  Craft, cunning, depending on dignity, eleoquent and charasmatic both verbally and in writing, you are clever, witty, inventive and persuasive.

         The Magician is the male power of creation, creation by willpower and desire.  In that ancient sense, it is the ability to make things so just by speaking them aloud.  Reflecting this is the fact that the Magician is represented by Mercury.  He represents the gift of tongues, a smooth talker, a salesman.  Also clever with the slight of hand and a medicine man – either a real doctor or someone trying to sell you snake oil. 

Link:  What Tarot Card Are You?

Haunted by Blue Dogs

Tags

Art, artitsts, Blue Dog, Culture, George Rodrigue, Westminister Dog Show

With the Westminister Dog Show starting we’d like to mention one of our favorite dogs of the art world.  It would have to be Tiffany, the muse behind Louisianna artist George Rodrigue’s Blue Dog series.

              “It was one of these myths, the loup-garou, which inspiried Rodrigue’s most famous series, The Blue Dog.  Painted for a book of Cajun ghost stories, this were-wolf-type dog was an already familiar legend for Rodrigue, who heard the story often as a boy.

               With no image for the loup-garou, the artist searched his files for a suitable shape.  He found it in photos of his studio dog Tiffany who had died several years before.”

More of Rodrigue Bio:  George Rodrigue.com

Theresa and Jeremy on the Big Screen?

Tags

Bret Easton Ellis, Film, Jeremy Blake, movies, screenplays, Theresa Duncan

Okay!  So I’ve been busy writing my novel for the past week, but all the while in the back of my mind, to blog or not to blog, I’ve been ruminating about the probability of a film being made about the lives of Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake.  We here at the Wit Continuum (along with some fellow misfits of Duncanology) are not so pleased with this idea.  Brought to my attention again last week, I remember hearing about this film a few months ago.  Evidently Bret Easton Ellis is writing a screenplay which will be produced through Ithaka films and Lionsgate films.  I was told when I responded to this article that I found a few months ago that “Its a damn good screenplay” which drove me to respond with wonder if this person got to read it. 

Bret Easton Ellis is the author of a few other books which have gotten screen attention like American Psycho, and to my surprise, Less than Zero, the 1987 movie starring Robert Downey Jr. and some other brat-packers.  I like this film, so maybe….dare I say…we have hope?  Ellis says of his new screenplay about Theresa and Jeremy: “The story is remarkable and explores profound loss and the tragic dimensions of love.” 

A year or so before this Gilding the Lily blogged about yet another film in the works as of September 2007 by some JR Chase.  She gives a nice synopsis and frank opinion of what she thinks about it on Children of the Staircase.  Nothing, thankfully, has come of this Chase person’s script as far as I know. 

I hate to say it, but what may bother me most about seeing this film is who will play Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake?  Any thoughts? 

My fear (Ahh, duncanfilmaphobia?) is that films rarely get to the entire truth of a story, for who does know the true story but the people who lived it and who are no longer with us.  We sort of like this mystery; it is the key.   This film  just may zap some  ingrained blogging enthusiasm in this Duncan fan.  

Peace…

Don’t You Just ‘Luv’ this Clean Coal?

Tags

abandoned cities, Centralia, clean coal, coal, coal mining, Japan, mine fires, Pennsylvania, places, towns, Where not to visit

First and foremost, The Wit Continuum would just like to state clearly that she believes there is no such thing as “clean coal”.  THEY may try to sell you this bullshit, but let’s be clear, there are emmissions no matter what they say they can do with it.  From someone who lived in a coal region for some time, I can testify to this.  (Plus, had a sweet grandfather who died from black lung.  He was a coal miner for 26 years.  It was not a nice way to go.)

So after that rant, I move on to some interesting finds thanks to Weburbanist.com once again I have found two curious places, and one is quite a bit spooky.  Here are some abandoned cities of our world–due to the coal mining industry.  Think of these places if you are a  supporter…

The abandoned town of Centralia, Pennsylvania…

“No list of abandoned cities and deserted town can be complete without some discussion of one of the strangest and most infamous example: Centralia.  This once-thriving town had a mine fire decades ago…but it never went out.   Warning signs that something was still wrong included: smoking highways, heated underwater gas tanks and person-swallowing sink holes.  Over time most of the town’s residents have moved on though a few insist on staying despite the slowly-speading and still-burning fire that creeps below.”

“Another coal-related abandonment is Hashima, one of Japans deserted island.  It was once a thriving coal-mining city with workers crammed into high rises on narrow streets, but a drop in coal production shut it down.  The structures stand, hazardous though they look, and talk of making it a tourist attraction is in the works.  Presently, only boat views are allowed.”

Count this Weburbanist fan out.

Source: Weburbanist.com

POST Update:  Please check out David Dekok’s book on the Centralia mine fire, called Fire Underground at
www.centraliaminefire.com

The Wit Continuum Remembers George Harrison

Tags

Beatles, George Harrison, Music, Patti Boyd, The 60s

We remember our favorite Beatle today, George Harrison.  Born on February 25, 1943, he would have been 66 today.  Namaste, George where ever you are out there, soaring across the universe. 

Couldn’t resist this pic, my favorite of George and the beautiful Patty Boyd.

Peace to all Beatles fans young and old…

Photo of George Harrison: Carolyn Jones Photo

Who’s the Fairest of Them All?…

Tags

Brothers Grimm, fairy tales, History, Margarete Von Waldeck, Snow White, The Real Snow White

 

Haunted, and happy, is how I describe the feelings surrounding my November 12. 2008 blog about The Real Snow White.  It is one of the most popular articles I’ve written about a real life young woman named Margarete von Waldeck, who’s life was cut short mysteriously from an apparent poisoning back in 1554.  She was 21.

When Googling her name my blog site, The Wit Continuum, appears twice on the first page, which is pretty cool, but I wonder how many people are really interested in this infamous person of history.  Was she really the inspiration for the Grimms fairy tale Snow White?  The parallels are interesting to say the least. 

It seems there may be serge in historic discovery going on here by factions unknown.  Continuing the search for more info…and seriously thinking about starting my own Margarete Von Waldeck blog club.  But what do you do with a dead girl?

L’Espirit d’Escalier

Tags

Art, L'Esprit d'Escalier, monographs, Theresa Duncan, Thomas Demand

Back again with this Thomas Demand monograph.  “The title actually refers to so-called “staircase wit”, that concise French expression for the chagrin of missed retorts – those hapless comebacks one only ever thinks up belatedly (i.e. when already descending the stairs):  “I should’ve said (fill in the blank)!”

On my desk today: favorite black cats…

Tags

Art, black cats, Chocolat Kitty, Hello Kitty, teen, teens

Found this on my desk top today, no doubt left by one of the teen members of the Wit Continuum.  (They know I love black cats).  As to the meaning…one can only guess.  Take it as you will.

(Perhaps its a hint to change my avatar from Kit to Chocolat??) 

You can’t ever take life too seriously.

Peace…

What We Lost…

Tags

Alexandria, archeology, Culture, History

“Lost for 1600 years, the fables city of Alexandria was lost – until just 16 years ago.  The famed stage of historic interactions between Cleopatra, Julius Caesar, Marc Antony and Octavius was lost under the water.  The royal residences, as archeologists discovered, were slowly sent to the bottom of the sea after a series of earthquakes and tsunamis.  The ancient Alexandria had over 500,000 residents and was known for its library with over 700,000 scrolls.”

Eerie, and unforgetable images…to think we have these museum pieces deep below us in the depths of this planet….

Source: Weburbanist.com

The Wondering Continues…

Tags

blogs, Jeremy Blake, Theresa Duncan

The wondering continues about Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake.  Hope its all right with you Deb, but I’d like to call you my new guest contributor.  Via your insightful links you have me thinking once again.

First, Big Happy Accident’s blog:  I was pretty sure that I read somewhere about Jeremy Blake leaving a note in his wallet with his clothes on Rockaway Beach, but I couldn’t remember where.  Looking back I found, and almost hate to reference this, Nancy Jo Sales article which says that Jeremy “had written on the back of a business card, which he left on the beach along with his clothes, “I am going to join the lovely Theresa.”  Perhaps the writer of Big Happy had some other insight, or I’m thinking that he may have been expressing his own artistic thoughts; the blog is an art blog (quite nice actually).  Still would love to know more about the note – if any of this from Sales article is really true.  Sales, I believe, is linked to that priest the two knew and confided in.  Does this make her claims more substantial?

Incidentally, according to Sales, Theresa’s note said “I love all of you.”  Makes me wonder why she didn’t address this to Jeremy.  I’ve also read somewhere that she said something about being at peace with her decision.  Was any of this made clear anywhere?

Next, Kade’s Korner, please if you go there come back!  Okay–can’t wrap my braincells around Kade’s art or poem.  Is it just me?  Insight please…..

Lisa Chapman has an interesting Detroit based blogspot.  She has a link to Zoetrope All-story, a favorite mag of mine.  The Kate Moss pic I don’t particularly like.  She looks maybe 14 or so, or sometime early in her career.  I don’t know, something about young girls posing in such a way…never mind – I’m ranting. (Teens share the Wit Continuum’s house, you understand.) 

In any case, I wondered “Why Kate Moss?” myself.  Her questionable relationship with that rock-dude (dirt bag?) seemed to fascinate Theresa.  Some artistic, “out-there” vein to it maybe.  I don’t think Theresa would have given two shits to blog about “octo-mom”. 

I find its quite common to be similarly intrigued with one certain conspicuous female figure.  Gee, can you guess who mine is?

Peace…

Love the links Deb; keep in touch

Trick or Treat: the Neurophone

Tags

mind control, Neurophone, Patrick Flanagen, Science, super learning

This bugger sells for $529.oo over at Amazon and is evidently a kind of super-learning device popular with some uber-spirituals I’ve read about.  It’s uses include: relaxation, increased learning potential, increased concentration and focus, and increased audio sensation.  The whole premise of how it works is the disturbing thing. 

Dr. Patrick Flanagen was a child prodigy in electronics, chemistry and physics.  He discovered an entirely new way to transmit sound into the human brain with his invention, the neurophone.

As a teenager Dr. Flanagen “was listed as one of the top scientists in the 1960s.  Among his many inventions was this device called the Neurophone – an electronic instrument that can successfully program suggestions directly through contact with the skin.  When he attempted to patent the device, the government demanded that he prove it worked.  When he did, the National Security Agency confiscated the neurophone.  It took Dr. Flanagen two years of legal battles to get his invention back. 

In using the device, you don’t hear or see a thing: it is applied to the skin, which the doctor claims is the source of special senses.  The skin contains more sensors for heat, touch, pain, vibration, and electrical fields than any other part of the human anatomy.

In one of his tests, Dr. Flanagen conducted two identical seminars for a military audience – one seminar one night and one the next…When the first group proved to be very cool and unwilling to respond, Patrick spent the next day making a special tape to play at the second seminar.  The tape instructed the audience to be extremely warm and responsive and for their hands to become “tingly”.  The tape was played through the neurophone, which was connected to a wire he placed along the ceiling of the room.  There were no speakers, so no sound could be heard, yet the message was successfully transmitted from that wire directly into the brains  of the audience.  They were warm and receptive, their hands tingled and they responded, according to the programming.”  (other responses could not be mentioned in this article.)

It boggles the mind in considering the many manipulative uses this devise could have on unsuspecting people.  How can one be sure it is programmed for what it was purchased for?

Source: The Battle For Your Mind by Dick Sutphen via The Future is Yours

Cat Secrets

Tags

black cat, cats, Montaigne, white cat

The great French essayist Montaigne believed strongly that cats led secret lives and once asserted that “cats undoubtedly talk and reason among themselves.”

From: The Indispensible Cat

Cats in the Sun

Tags

cat art, cat photography, cats, Cats in the Sun, Cyclades, Greece, Greek Isles, Hans Silvester

I’ve chose to continue a tribute to cats and all who love them. 

My absolute favorite cat photography book is Cats in the Sun by Hans Silvester.  This great photographer showed infitessimal patience in photographing the beautiful domesticated cats of the Greek isles.  Because cats are forbidden to cross into Greek households (they allow no pets in their homes except canaries) these wonderful pusses live outdoors year around, but the islanders love them and care for them and, most importantly, totally accept them as inseparable from daily life. 

“…like the wind, the sun, the sea, day, and night”  the cats have always been there and always will.

  Here is an excerpt from in intro of Cats in the sun:

           “My first stay on Mykonos was in 1982.  I was instantly enchanted by the light and the architecture.  I photographed some cats without really registering the force of their personalities.

            A later trip took me to the Cyclades to photograph the dovecotes.  This time I developed a passion for the cats, and we became friends.  Subsequently, over three years, I observed them at all hours of the day and night, and through every season, with all the patience needed to disturb them as little as possible.  To the Greeks, I quickly became the fool who runs after the cats.  I made them smile, but it was with the greatest kindness that they brought me coffee and cakes and told me stories about their favorite cats during the long hours that I waited for the best moment to take my photographs.”

Boy, would I love this job!!!

Peace to all cat lovers out there…

New Look

This is actually my original look when I created this site in September.  (like the links and all visible on the side instead of the bottom).  Hope you all approve!

Peace…

One Blue Pussy

Tags

Andy Warhol, Art, cats, Cats in Art

Andy Warhol (1923-1987) loved cats, creating numerous paintings of them until he began his Pop Art series.  As a cat owner, he published a book of 25 cat portraits in which all but one of the felines were named Sam.

More Theremy Thoughts…

Tags

Jeremy Blake, Theresa Duncan

Just feel the need to share some of this article written by Laurie Winer for California Style magazine in October of 2o07.  Winer did some research of her own, and may be a bit more objective than some others who have written on the couple.

(Curious note here for SB – the beauty to adorn the C cover is none other than Naomi Watts!  Love synchronicity like this.)

  See what you think. This is a portion of the latter half of the article, a more scientific viewpoint, if you will.   

        “Ronald K. Siegal, UCLA-affiliated psychologist and author of Whispers: The Voices of Paranoia, was struck both by the elegance of Duncan’s writing and the commonness of what he calls her paranoia.  “I’ve seen scores [of writing] just like this,” he says.  “Paranoia is so common it is difficult to consider a mental disorder.  Many people are totally functional with it.”

        Siegal doubts Duncan was driven to suicide by the terror of her perceived persecutors.  Had it gone another was, she could have turned her fantasies into art, as do many writers of science fiction, he says.  “She’s not as fearful as she is in love with her own writing about her fears,” he says.  “She’s a very good writer, and you can see antenna out there, reaching and grasping for these conspiratorial elements in the way screenwriters and novelists do.  Paranoia really only means looking below the surface for details.”

     USC-affiliated professor of social work John Brekke, who has long worked with the mentally ill, offers a slightly more acute diagnosis (though, of course, one based solely on Duncan’s writings.)  “These were not benign delusions,” he posits.  “This is an undiagnosed mental illness characterized by non-bizarre paranoid delusions.  It’s a serious  psychosis–a disease in which being bright and creative can actually hurt you.”  Brekke suspects Duncan’s paranoid delusions merged with her real-life disappointments in a way that was unbearable.  Who know if she had a moment of clarity in which she said, ‘Oh god, I destroyed myself and this man.’”

      Siegal, the paranoia expert tends to agree: “She probably suffered from a tremendous amount of guilt and humiliation.  She was caught plagiarizing and made up a story.  She tells people she’s working on a movie that doesn’t exist.  She hasn’t learned how to deal with setbacks, and her excuse is always to blame other people.  Part of her recognized she was destroying herself.”

       A close friend of Duncan views her unraveling in a similar fashion.  “She had burned so many bridges for herself and for Jeremy that he was forced to take his old job back at Rockstar,” she says.  “I knew Jeremy when he first worked there; he was thrilled to leave that job.  It had to be really hard for them to go back to New York, to the scene of their former glory.  I think Theresa must have felt badly about what she had done to Jeremy’s career and didn’t see anywhere for herself to go.”

Well, there it is.  Sums some thoughts up in a not so glamorous way.  Let me know what you think…

Peace…

The Theremy Article

Tags

Jeremy Blake, Theresa Duncan

As I said I’d try do—I did!  Took a couple hours only and I’m pleased.

For us Duncanology/Theremy addicts who wait with bated breath for word on the movie to come about, I have written out the C magazine article that is not online.  It is called Folie a Deux, and can be found in my Pages column in the sidebar.  I thought it deserved a permanent place on the site to reference. 

“L.A. based writer Laurie Winer, who researched and authored “Folie a Deux” says, “The most moving moment for me was when I realized it was most likely not [writer Theresa Duncan's] madness but rather a brief moment of clarity that led her to take her own life.”

Please post all comments here. 

Just a personal note:  Typing out the Reynolds Price words moved my tremendously in many ways aside from what they may have meant to Theresa in her last blog.  As a writer, I would recommend other writers  and bloggers to write out these words just once,  just to bring the power and brilliance of them home…

The pic above is a still from the Winchester Redux artwork  by Jeremy Blake.  Love this haunting image. Presently it sits on my computer screen  with a nice deep teal green background.  (the actual moving sequence loop would be most awesome but I’ll take what I can get.)

Peace….

Something to Brighten One’s Day

Tags

cat photography, cats, cute, Photography

Just a quick post – this beautiful kitten named Johnnie submitted by photographer ArZs at Deviant Art.com.

Couldn’t resist…

Peace…

Factory Girl Fascination

Tags

60s Icons, Andy Warhol, Culture, Drug Addiction, Edie Sedgwick, Film, The 60s, The Factory

Although she only knew Andy Warhol for a short time, just under a year in the mid 60s, one cannot hear the name of the artist without thinking of his prized “Factory Girl”, Edie Sedgwick.  Suffering from mental illness and drug addiction, the well-to-do society girl found a little niche for herself in 1960s Manhattan artist scene, modeling and starring in some of Warhol’s underground film works. 

Before meeting Warhol, by only one month, Edie found herself next to music sensation Bob Dylan.  Their sorted affair which ended with Dylan marrying someone else, much to the surprise of Edie, who probably never got over the devastation.  Dylan’s Blond on Blond is supposedly about Edie. 

The fascination with Edie Sedgwick rocks on.

                                                   

“Edie was born to die young,” says one article.

“She arrived in NY in 1964 with a trust fund, spending it quickly going though $80,000 in 6 months.  She was a society girl, a trustafarian drawn to the margins of Bohemia.  In January 1965, she met Warhol at a party.  Few socialites graced The Factory, [Warhol's Manhattan hide-out where he produced films among other things].  Once he met Edie, the two were practically inseparable.  Edie became like an accessory Andy Warhol wore everywhere he went.

Edie transformed herself in the process, cutting her hair and dying it silver blond.  She often wore tights from her dance classes everywhere, creating a signature 60s look:  Black tights, long t-shirts, her chandelier earings, dark eye-makeup and pale lips. 

Drugs were her downfall.  She says she was first introduced to really hard drugs at the Factory, where she became an underground film star, featured in Warhol’s voyeuristic films. 

She died at age 28, five years after leaving the Factory. 

Being in and out of institutions to treat her mental illness, a trait that ran through her family and tragically took the lives of two of her brothers, Edie finally had given up drug use and was married.  However, she was prescribed medication for a physical injury and after a night at a party, at which she drank heavily, her husband gave her the prescribed amount of her prescription and the two went to bed. 

In the morning, Edie Sedgwick was dead.  Her death was recorded as overdose/suicide.  (Wonder about the “suicide” – it sounded more like an accidental overdose.  Makes me wonder how drunk her husband was, and if it was worded this way to protect his involvement.)

Her story in tragic, yet glamourous, and, of course, sad as well.  She was a great beauty that few got to know, and too few of the world got to see.  She may have had an outstanding career hadn’t her addictions taken over her life.

Naturally that is why we are so intrigued.

Source:  Style Over Substance  by Linda Grant

P.S.  The Wit Continuum’s favorite pic of Edie is the one at the top of page–perfect 60s icon.

Black Dress V

Tags

black dresses, cats, fashion, fur, Girl in the Black Dress, Photography

Time for Black Dress number five.  Here photographer Believe – Hope shows the only fur to wear.

We agree. 

The History of Glamour

Tags

blogs, Film, Jeremy Blake, movies, The History of Glamour, Theresa Duncan

It is not my intention in any way to reproduce Theresa Duncan’s entire blog, but we loved viewing The History of Glamour and in our search found one of the most enlightening entries of The Wit of the Staircase.  Theresa blogged this on Wednesday, Aug.2, 2006:

titled:  Wit Editor Makes Pedantic History

“Our film The History of Glamour is included in Prentice Hall high school art history text books.  Shout excerpt below:

“Collaborating with animator Jeremy Blake, Duncan created a hybrid ‘pseudo-rockumentary’ that explores the nature of American celebrity…Its heroine, teen singer-songwriter Charles Valentine, from the fictional backwater of Antler, Ohio, storms Manhattan intent on achieving fame and fortune.  But the lyrics of her songs increasingly reflect the emptiness of the cult of celebrity:  ‘I got a call from a magazine yesterday, I think it was called Interview, I said Thursday’s out, but how about never?  Is never good for you?’  In the end, she becomes a reclusive writer, chucking ‘glamour for grammar’.”

“This is required reading in tens of thousands of our nation’s high schools, mon ami.  Who needs children, brothers and sisters of the staircase, when so many are already yours?”

Theresa posted this in Art and Film category.  Her little quote after speaks volumes to me, and her excitement can be felt.  Who wouldn’t want their story or film to be cultural or literary knowledge for our next generation.  This one thing she did made an impact. 

And it is a really great film.  Love the catch at the end.  Tell me if you would like to join me for a glass of Channel No. 5 while we watch the funeral fashion show…

Catch The History of Glamour if you have 30 to 40 minutes to spare.  (Wondering:  Is there a DVD?)

I Am A Woman

Tags

Anais Nin, fetishes, Photography, quotes, women

“It’s all right for a woman to be, above all, human.

I am a woman first of of all.”    -   Anais Nin

 

Photo source: Cherie Sugar at Deviant Art.com

Symbols: The Flower of Life

Tags

Art, energy, flower of life, spirituality, symbols, universe

The Flower of Life symbol is considered to be sacred among many cultures around the world, both ancient and modern.  Within this symbol can be found all the building blocks of the universe.  The symbol can be used as a metaphor to illustrate the connectedness  of all life and spirit within the universe.

The Flower of Life has powerful energy and challenges us to unify out hearts, minds, and spirits.  It can strengthen our awareness of God and enhance our feeling of connection to all that it. 

It also gives The Wit Continuum that needed burst of energy and artisic inspiration.  Having one of these symbols around give the person better focus and positive energy. 

Source: TruthMovementAustralia.com.au

What is it With Women and Their Shoes?

Tags

Atalanta Weller, Beam Me Up, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, miscellaneous, sci-fi shoes, shoe collections, shoes

“What is it with women and their shoes?”  We’ve heard many of the male of the species utter these words at times.  My answer to this question is:  “Its nothing.  Its perfectly normal.”  And to prove my point I’ve found the coolest shoe site called A Woman And Her Shoes ; but be warned you could get lost for a long time in shoe heaven. 

Found these incredible sandals by new fashion designer Atalanta Weller.  (just love her name–was actually researching the Amazonian Huntress Atalanta when I found these zippy heels!).

“Weller is a graduate of Cordwainers college in London and is the designer behind Henry Holland (House of Holland) Shoe Collection, which has yeilded this sporty slip back with a sci-fi feel.”

Beam me up, Scotty!

Spring Fever and Bi-Polar Weather

Tags

DC shoes, Jaguars, Photography, spring, spring fever, we are sick of snow

It was a brilliant spring weekend!!! 

And then we woke up this morning…………..

The Shaguar was not happy.

Black Dress VI

Tags

black dresses, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Guerlain, perfume, trying to learn French

Guerlain perfume: La Petite Robe Noire.  At $150 for 1.7 oz.

Couldn’t resist this little black dress find,  in Teen Vogue, as left on my desk by

a certain teen Continuum member….

Who Says Words With My Mouth?

Tags

100th blog post, Photography, poetry, Rumi, spirituality, thoughts

This is my 100th post…an infinitesimal mile marker in the infinite blogging world…

What better to celebrate it with, than with a poem by Rumi that means a lot to me.

 

WHO SAYS WORDS WITH MY MOUTH?

All day I think it, then at night I say it.

Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?

I have no idea.

My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,

and I intend to end up there.

 

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.

When I get back around to that place,

I’ll be completely sober.  Meanwhile,

I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.

The day is coming when I fly off,

but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?

Who says words with my mouth?

 

Who looks out with my eyes?  What is the soul?

I cannot stop asking.

If I could taste one sip of an answer,

I could break out of this prison for drunks.

I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.

Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

 

This poetry.  I never know what I’m going to say.

I don’t plan it.

When I’m outside the saying of it,

I get very quiet and rarely speak at all. 

 

From: The Essential Rumi     Photo: my name is  by ArZs at Deviant Art.com

Out of the Ashes: The Symbolic Story of Cinderella

Tags

Cinderella, fairy tales, myths, secrets, stories, symbols, Tales

We again find our fairy tales are so much more than kids stories.  “The fairy tale fo the cinder-maid originated as an anti-ecclesiastical allegory repeated by real ‘fairies’ –that is, pagans.”  Ella was the daughter of Mother Earth and her ugly stepsisters were considered the church’s darlings, the military aristocracy and the clergy. 

“An early German version of the story said Cinderella’s real mother, the Earth, though dead, sent from her grave a fairy tree in answer to her daughter’s prayer.  This tree produced golden apples, fine clothes, and other gifts.”  Thus the “fairy godmother” of the tale may have been the ghost of the mother. 

Beautified with her new riches, Cinderella won the “prince” who represents mankind, and their union was symbolized by fitting her foot into a shoe, which was a common sexual allegory.  The Eleusinian Mysteries signified sacred marriage by placing a phallic object in a woman’s shoe.  The glass slipper perhaps stood for the Crystal Cave by which pagan heroes entered. 

Like other secret medieval prophecies of the overthrow of the rich, powerful theocracy, the downfall of Cinderella’s ugly stepmother and stepsisters may have been intended as a prophecy.”

Source: The Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

Photo: Cinderella by Citron Rouge at Deviant Art

Theresa and Jeremy in Digital Art

Tags

Art, digital art, Jeremy Blake, Theresa Duncan

This is a fascinating digital painting done by J.M. Kearns at Idyllopus Press.  With permission from the original photographer, she digitally enhanced the photograph, giving it a distinctive David Hockney-like feel.  I’m not sure of the title, but the link suggests it may be One of a Thousand Maybes, which gives this artwork the hauntingly wonderous feel we share about Theresa and Jeremy’s lives. 

Maybe they were….maybe they thought….maybe they felt….maybe they had been…maybe it was because…..

 

 

Later I find this:  A friend of the couple who blogged on My Space about his saddness at their loss (it had been at the time before Jeremy was found and was still only missing).  There are some nice pictures posted-especially the one of the author-friend with Theresa.  (I can’t find his name but the blog may be FuseAction).  We wonder, too, how this person remained a friend with the couple for so long.  He says in his poetic narrative that he knew them when they first met, that they were like a brother and a sister to him.   Mmmmmm….

The Water

Found this fantastic short film last night at Pitchfork.com called The Water, a 15 minute sequence that leaves one  a bit wigged out.  Filmed by Revolver Film Company, it is described as “a haunting fairy tale that’s as miraculous as it is unsettling.” 

The film features Leslie Feist, who sings the title track, and actor Cillian Murphy.  It is really a long music video for Feist’s song, which isn’t featured until the last 6 minutes or so.  I’m still trying to figure out this chilling tale that is free of dialog except for maybe two lines; no names are given, no relationships explained, but yet you know through the actor’s expressions, in their eyes, what the strange story is.  It is so quiet at the beginning I was playing with the volume; don’t bother.  Just sit and listen.  The title song, when it comes in, is eloquent and lyrical and captures the soul.

Found a new link for this film:  http://www.ifc.com/videos/premiere-the-water.php 

Let me know what you think…

White Dress I

Tags

fashion, fashion photography, Girl in the Black Dress, Photography, This Bohemian Summer, White Dresses

With Spring officially sprung, believe it or not it is one-third of the way through already, I’ve decided to glance into the summer and start a white dress series (not that we’ve given up on the black dresses!).  Love this bohemian summer look.   

Pic:  by xxchange at deviant art

Laboratory of the Soul

Tags

Anais Nin, Art, Girl Before a Mirror, mirrors, Picasso, psychology, quotes, Soul, spirituality

 

 

          “Enter this laboratory of the soul where every feeling will be X-rayed…to expose the blocks, the twists, the deformations, the scars which interfere with the flow of life.  Enter this laboratory of the soul where incidents are refracted into a diary, dissected to prove that everyone of us carries a deforming mirror where he sees himself too small or too large, too fat or too thin, even….[he] who believes himself so free, blithe, and unscarred.  Enter here where one discovers that destiny can be directed, that one does not need to remain in bondage to the first wax imprint made on childhood sensibilities.  One need not be branded by the first pattern.  Once the deforming mirror is smashed, there is a possibility of wholeness; there is a possibility of joy.”

From: The Diary of Anais Nin, entry [May 25, 1932]

The Water, a new link, I hope…

Tags

Feist, Film, Music, The Water

Found two sources for the film/video of The Water, which I blogged about last week.  (You can guess that I like this film a lot).  In any case, if interested, try these:  The Water   or   http://www.ifc.com/videos/premiere-the-water.php

PS…the first link the screen is much larger for viewing the film.

Peace…

All Those Braided Tresses

Tags

braided hair, Braids, Circe, fashion, Gweneth Paltrow, Homer, Isis, Lindsay Lohan, Theresa Duncan, Vanessa Hudgens

“Weaving the Destinies of Man and singing her spells of becoming.” — Circe, the Fate Spinner who sat at her loom.  Homer called her Circe of the Braided Tresses, hinting that she manipulated forces of creation and destruction by the knots and braids in her hair.  She ruled the stars that determined men’s fates.

“Circe of the Braided Tresses, an awful goddess of mortal speech.”  Her braids symbolized her power over metempsychosis;  she stood for the cosmic Cirque, or karmic wheel.

Mother Goddesses like Isis, Cybele, and Kali were said to command the weather by braiding or releasing their hair.  By as late as the 17th century, churchmen said that witches could raise storms, summon demons, and produce all kinds of destruction by binding their hair.  In the Tyrol, it was believed that every thunderstorm was caused by a woman combing and knotting her hair. 

Today, braiding has become as popular as ever, never leaving the sixties hip movement far behind.  Maybe its a fashion statement for some.  Or maybe a matter of convience, to lock away the escaping hair.  Or maybe, we seek to create or destroy the fates of men with our locked tresses.  If I could, I’d braid my hair and make the weather stay beautiful always.  Of course I’d comb it out for the occasional thunderstorm. 

Can’t let this blog go without mentioning Theresa, who made the braiding of her hair a trademark, like Circe, manipulating the forces of creation. 

Source:  Women’s Myths and Secrets

Black Cat Art Favorites

Tags

Art, black cat art, black cats, cat photography, cats, Cats in Art, Photography, poster

Just a few more black cat artworks that I love.  It is feeling like a black kitty Wednesday.

The Secrets of the Age of Thirteen

Tags

girl, girls, poem, poems, poetry, teens, thirteen

Portrait of Girl with Comic Book  by Phyllis McGinley

Thirteen’s no age at all.  Thirteen is nothing.

It is not wit, or powder on the face.

Or Wednesday matinees, or misses’ clothing,

Or intellect, or grace.

Twelve has its tribal customs.  But thirteen

Is neither boys in battered cars nor dolls,

Not Sara Crewe, or movie magazine,

Or pennants on the walls.

 

Thirteen keeps diaries and tropical fish

(A month, at most); scorns jumpropes in the spring;

Could not, would fortune grant it, name its wish;

Wants nothing, everything;

Has secrets from itself, friends it despises;

Admits none to the terrors that it feels;

Owns half a hundred masks but no disguises;

And walks upon its heels.

 

Thirteen’s anomalous–not that, not this:

Not folded bud, or wave that laps a shore,

Or moth proverbial from the chrysalis.

Is the one age defeats the metaphor.

Is not a town, like childhood, strongly walled

But easily surrounded; is no city.

Nor, quitted once, can it be quite recalled–

Not even with pity. 

 

From: The Love Letters of Phyllis McGinley (1954) 

David Hockney’s iPhone Art

Tags

Art, David Hockney, iPhone, iPhone art, miscellaneous, painting, technology

I was astounded this weekend to see this incredible use of new technology, by none other than 71 year old artist, David Hockney who turned his four month old iPhone into tech-culture art.  Amazingly he even sits his high tech canvas on its own easel.  Using input commands on a color screen, Hochney has painted flowers and landscapes.

“I lie in bed and send illustrated art lectures to friends and also my own iPhone paintings,” said Hockney.  “I like to draw flowers by hand on the iPhone and send then out to friends so they get fresh flowers.  And my flowers last!”

Hockney had previously created computer screen art with a stylus and electronic tablet from what I’ve read, so this wasn’t too hard for this incredible talent.  I’m still amazed.  The Wit Continuum is rough when it comes to technology, learning slowly through the years and still ages behind.  This app would probably take me a year to figure out. 

Still….intrigued and impressed.

Peace…

Black Dress VII and VIII

Tags

black dresses, Culture, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Kate Moss, miscellaneous, models, Nina Ricci

Found this when reading of Fashionista on-line:  “Kate Moss’s black long-sleeved dress for Topshop was named Dress of the Year by the Bath Fashion Museum.”  

This UK museum has the world’s largest collection of historical fashion.  We are left wondering who does the Dress of the Year judging. 

This dress, designed by Kate herself, outdid top designers such as Calvin Klein, Versace, and Alexander McQueen.  All from the model who stated that she is “not a proper designer.”  If this is an example of un-proper design, we see why.

Though we usually love “all things Kate,”  this dress is far from the fashion “WOW” factor.  I think I threw out a dress like this in 1986.  It may have been purple. 

We just cannot see the big “win” here.  Not when we found this Nina Ricci black runway dress for Fall 2009. Ready-to-Wear on Uliana Tikhova.       WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Moonstruck…or Are We Just Crazy?

Tags

blessed, crazy, full moon, mania, miscellaneous, moon, musings, myths, Photography, secrets

Ahhh…the moon…on Saturday night was exceptional…Took this shot with my new Sony Cyber-shot 12.1 mega pixel.  It was a warm, breezy night…

“The root word for both “moon” and “mind” was the Indo-European manas, or men, representing the ‘wise blood’ in women, governed by the moon.  Other extentions of this root include: words of mentality, menstrual, menology, mensuration, mentor, menage (a matrilineal household), omen (a revelation from the moon), and amen (the moon of rebirth).  

Its derivative mania used to mean ecstatic revelation, just as lunacy used to mean possession by the spirit of Luna, the moon.    To be “moon-touched” or “moon-struck” meant to be chosen by the Goddess;  a “moon-calf” was one carried away by love of her.  When patriarchal thinkers belittled the Goddess, these words came to mean mere craziness.  The moonstruck person was described as “silly,” a word that formerly meant “blessed,” possibly derived from Selene, the Moon.”

So we’re not crazy, are we?  Perhaps we are wisdom filled, blessed Lunatics.  I like that…and I love, love, love the moon. 

Source: Women Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

Fractal Images

Tags

Art, computer generated, defining infinity, digital art, fractal, fractal generated art, fractal images, mathmatical formula

Fractal generated images are computer generated and crafted out of mathmatical formulae. 

Fascinated with these mind-bending designs that seem to define infinity. 

Dainis Graveris has collected 60 prime examples on a blog, all generated using a freeware fractal program called Apophysis (for Windows only). 

Check out these . . .

 

This last one really gives me the feeling of traveling. . .focus on the center, you’ll see what I mean. But come back soon.

Peace…

Friday Feature Cartoon

Tags

cartoon, Cartoons, funny, guru, meaning of life, miscellaneous, thoughts

David Hockney Favorite

Tags

Art, cats, Cats in Art, Culture, David Hockney, paintings

This is my absolute David Hockney painting favorite,  Mr. and Mrs. Clark and Percy. 

“Contemporary British artist David Hockney conbined a number of individual reference photographs and studies of different aspects of this scene to create this very large composition depicting his friends Mr. and Mrs. Clark at home with their cat, Percy.”

Tate Gallery, London, England. 

Source: The Indispensable Cat

Iconic – Illustration by The Wit Continuum

Tags

Art, drawing, drawings, fashion illustration, Illustration

Iconic - 4/09

My own illustration inspired by Edie Sedgwick (this is not a portrait of her, mind you).  I take a photo I like and work with it a bit.  This was done in charcoal, pencil, and outline black pen.

Yoga Poses and Yoga Mats

Tags

exercise, miscellaneous, musings, thoughts, yoga, yoga mats, yoga poses, yoga practice

Yoga-phobe I am not. In fact you could call me quite the opposite. I love yoga and have been practicing on and off (mostly on) for nearly15 years.  My pal Dharma, from Dijital Dharma, is on a 30-day Bikram yoga challenge and has inspired me even more.   This pose, urdhva mukha svanasana, or up-ward facing dog, is a favorite of mine…and I can actually do this one.  Here the lovely Lisa Matkin demonstrates–wish I could say it was me…

Here are some poses that I love…but can’t do, demonstrated by yoga rocking Sean Corn, and the hippy Jivamukti Yoga founder Sharon Gannon:

What I’m challenged with today is a ripping yoga mat.  I’ve had this cool orange sherbert colored mat, made by Gaim, for some years now, more than 8 I would guess, and through the years have bought others and given them away to budding yogites like myself, and simply because the new mats weren’t good for me.   Last year I went on a quest for a new mat in my area, because, well, my mat was starting to seriously shred.  When I wear my black yoga pants, I’m spotted with tiny flakes of orange.  But it still is the greatest sticky mat.  Last year I figured — it was time.   I purchased a new Gaim mat…safe to get the same kind again, right?  Evidently Gaim, famous for all its holistic yogic living, has decided to start making its yoga mats in China, have dropped the price to around 20 bucks instead of 30, which my original cost, resulting in the very basic yoga mat that sucks.  When I opened it the smell of the dye or the plastic or whatever burned the nostrils, and of course, did not induce a very pleasant yoga practice.  It was extremely shiny and slippery–Down dog was impossible since my hands continually slid right from under me.  Took it back.  Disgusted with Gaim company.

Next came a natural fiber mat…yada, yada, yada.   Didn’t smell, but I slipped on this one also.  Lastly, I tried a Nike mat which we spotted at Olympia Sport, where my daughter was eyeing some expensive sneakers.  Cool, I thought.  Which color should I take: the pink and gray, or the blue and tan.  “Pink and gray, pink and gray.”  So I unrolled this one at home.  No smell, nice line down the middle for alignments.  But, it is not a sticky mat.  I slid again, and sweated on my palms almost instantly.  My daughter took this one-since she picked it. 

Today, my mat lost a serious chunk, right where foot placement occurs regularly.  Shredded it out during plank pose.  Only a short matter of time before I chatturunga right through.  (That’s a yoga push-up for the non-yogites out there).

So, does anyone have a yoga mat recommendation for a 40-ish chick who sweats like a normal person, but slips on most mats?  I would order on-line, but I don’t have any idea which ones really work.  They all make promises.

I am still at peace however…faithful that enlightenment will come…

Namaste peace…

POST Update:  I did finally find a pretty good sticky mat.  Wai Lana has a nice line of eco-friendly mats, with a recommendation that you give the new mat a bath in mild detergent to enhance stickiness.  It worked!!

The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa

Tags

angelic visitations, angels, catholic, catholism, faith, God, Saint Teresa of Avila, saints, Spain, St. Teresa, Transverberation, visions

When Saint Teresa was a young woman of the age of 20 she secretly ran off, without telling her family, to become a nun at the convent of the Incarnation of the Carmelites outside Avila, Spain. 

So powerful was her faith, the bond to God, and her rapturous need to truly know her God, that she claims to have risen from the lowest stage, “recollection”, to the “devotions of ecstasy,” which was one of perfect union with God. 

On reading St. Teresa’s angelic vision,  called the  “Transverberation” , one is left with a feeling of sensual wonder.  Or an erotic one, which ever suits you.  She recalls of her vision of being pierced through the heart by the love of God.  She is direct in her description of the angel who visited her;  in describing him she says that he was not tall, but short and very beautiful, his face fiery like one of the highest types of angels who seem all burning.   He holds a long golden spear  and at the iron tip a point of fire.   With it, he seemed to pierce her heart several times,  penetrating to her innards.  When he drew out he left her burning with the great love of God.  So sharp was her pain that she released moans several times.  It was an intense pain, she recalls, that one would never want to lose, not a bodily pain, but a spiritual one.

              “It is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the sould and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may think that I am lying.”

St. Teresa had been quite ill when she first went into the convent, which could make someone wonder at the legitamacy of her claims.  Perhaps whe was feverish and had hallucinated.  Or perhaps she was delusional, or pschotic in some way.  Could she have had sex and not known it, was actually seeing something else entirely?  It is just a question,  one I’m not too quick to believe.

One can learn from Teresa’s faith and visions however.  There was a grace surrounding this lovely woman, a woman who truly had a calling.  And there are witnesses to her faith.  A few have claimed that during some of the masses, on occassion St. Teresa levitated while she prayed.   She was canonized a saint in 1622, forty years after her death.

On Gambling by Rumi

Tags

fish, frogs, inspiration, On Gambling, poetry, Rumi, The Essential Rumi, thoughts

 

ON GAMBLING

To a frog that’s never left his pond the ocean seems like a gamble.    Look what he’s giving up:  security, mastery of his world, recognition!    The ocean frog just shakes his head.   “I can’t really explain what it’s like where I live, but someday I’ll take you there.”

##

If you want what visible reality

can give, you’re an employee.

If you want the unseen world,

you’re not living your truth.

Both wishes are foolish,

but you’ll be forgiven for forgetting

that what you really want is

love’s confusing joy.

##

Gamble everything for love,

if you’re a true human being.

If not, leave

this gathering.

Half-heartedness doesn’t reach

into majesty.   You set out

to find God, but then you keep

stopping for long periods

at mean-spirited roadhouses.

##

In a boat down a fast-running creek,

it feels like trees on the bank

are rushing by.  What seems

to be changing around us

is rather the speed of our craft

leaving this world.

 

From: The Three Fish        by Rumi

Those Ripe Visions…

Tags

astrology, fortune telling, Free Will Astrology, inspiration, visions

This is my Gemini Free Will Astrology for this week:

“Seventeen-year-old Jay Greenberg is a music prodidy who has written numerous sonatas and symphonies.  His first CD, performed by the London Symphony Orchestra and Julliard String Quartet, came out in 2006.   It’s not exactly a struggle for him to create his compositions.  He often completes them in less than a day.

“The music comes fully written,” he says, “playing like an orchestra in my head.”

I believe you now have something in common with him, Gemini.  According to my reading of the omens, there will soon be ripe visions of future accomplishments floating around in your imagination.  You should write them down or describe them in detail to an ally or do whatever else it takes to launch the process of getting them born. “

I had a feeling something was in my head…getting my writing routine back on track is a start.

Source:  Free Will Astrology

Changing the World, One Country at a Time

Tags

Barack Obama, Changing the World, Culture, Current events, Egypt, news, Obama's speech, president, thoughts

My friend and fellow blogger Sarcastic Bastard wrote on June 4, The Reason I Voted for Him, a blog with excerpts of Barack Obama’s beautiful speech at an Egypt university, which myself and Mr. Continuum had listened to with much pride and faith.  SB states poignantly exactly my feelings since the election:  “I am indebted to him for what he is trying to accomplish.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had any pride in the person who leads our country.  I am genuinely hopeful.”

My favorite part of the speech:

“I do so recognizing that change cannot happen overnight.  No single speech can eradicate years of mistrust, nor can I answer in the time that I have all the complex questions that brought us to this point.  But I am convinced that in order to move forward, we must say openly the things we hold in our hearts, and that too often said only behind closed doors.  There must be a sustained effort to listen to each other; to learn from each other; to respect one another; and to seek common ground.  As the Holy Koran tells us, “Be conscious of God and speak always the truth.”  That is what I will try to do – to speak the truth as best I can, humbled by the task before us, and firm in my belief that the interests we share as human beings are far more powerful than the forces that drive us apart.”

Peace…

One of the Finest Films: Slumdog Millionaire

Tags

Best Picture, Bollywood, Film, India, movies, screenwriters, Slumdog Millionaire

Finally…yes, finally, I watched Slumdog Millionaire.  I know I am profoundly late on the band-wagon of best picture watchers, and I had heard that it was simply fantastic, without much description of it otherwise.  So I was taken aback and quite petrified by the parts with the lead characters as children and the events which happened to them.  Why it was publicized as the “feel-good movie of the year”, I cannot figure out…basically I cried through most of it.

That aside, I’m glad, so incredibly glad, that I saw this film.  Heart-wrenching aside, I loved it.  An incredible unknown cast, an incredible environment, and the screenwriter should be applauded.  I see why it won for best picture.  I tend to think the Academy get political in its selections of who the winner will be, but I can’t see how that happened here. 

I was happy at the end, which I suppose is why this film is supposed to make you feel good.  The good guy get the money, and he gets the girl, the bad guys lose or die.  As it all should be.  (oh,  and a Bollywood dance routine at the end makes everyone smile!)

Peace…        (and See This Movie if You haven’t)

New Girl On the Block

Tags

actresses, Film, Freida Pinto, India, movies, Slumdog Millionaire

Yes, we love Freida Pinto…whose Slumdog Millionaire debut as an actress has made her the most googled girl of the year….

Private Lives

Tags

bathtubs, Carolyn Kiser, fashion, Kate Moss, miscellaneous, models, musings, Photography, quotes, reading books

“…we are the custodians of the world’s best-kept secret:

Merely the private lives of one-half of humanity.”

                                           -Carolyn Kiser

{Thought I’d post my favorite pic of Kate Moss.   If you can’t make it out, the title of the book she’s reading is  Help Your Husband Get Ahead. }

Pro Femina

Tags

Carolyn Kizer, Feeling ripped, feminine, Kate Moss, poems, poetry, women writers, Writers, Writing

I will speak about women of letters, for I’m in the racket.

Our biggest successes to date?  Old maids to a woman.

And our saddest conspicuous failures?  The married spinsters

On loan to the husbands they treated like surrogate fathers…

Or the sad sonneteers, toast-and teasdales we loved at thirteen;

Middle-ages virgins seducing the puerile anthologists

Through lust-of-the-mind; barbiturate-drenched Camilles

With continuous periods, murmuring softly on sofas

When peotry wasn’t a craft but a sickly effuvium,

The air thick with incense, musk, and emotional blackmail. 

                                               – Pro Femina, by Carolyn Kizer

Kate Moss Continuum

Tags

bare asses, billboards, David Yurman, jewelry, Kate Moss, models, Photography

Hope my Continuum offspring don’t think me too lame or get bored–well if you do then just visit Just Under the Surface or Sarcastic Bastard – but I’m on a Kate Moss kick it seems.  Couldn’t resist posting this one, Kate wearing only  David Yurman.  I’d never seen this ad.

More later…

Contorted Moss

Tags

Art, fascination, Kate Moss, Marc Quinn, models, sculpture, yoga contorted

British artist Marc Quinn’s yoga contorted sculptures of Kate Moss fascinate me.  Less yogic, and more like a Cirque de Soleil inversion.  What made him think of doing this, we wonder?

Black Dress IX

Tags

black dress, black dresses, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Kate Moss, models

Kate Moss - Black Dress IX

Kate on the Staircase

Iconic Kate

Tags

bags, iconic, Kate Moss, models

 

I’d put her right up there with Edie in iconic value here.  I would love that bag for my birthday…which is today by the way.  Peace to all…enjoying my day…

Saturday

Below is my last Kate post for this week.  Loved these black leather driving gloves with her skivvies.  The shot I think is amazing and the staircase…yea,  the staircase.   Anyway, hope you sort of enjoyed my scheduled ahead pre-posted Kate week because I was in a slump with all this fucking rain and gloom and doom along with a birthday I should have ignored (after 30 we should all stop counting).   Not to mention all the writing I didn’t do this week. 

Better days ahead.

Peace to all…

U2 on the Horizon

Tags

albums, Bono, Music, new music, No Line on the Horizon, rock, rock music, U2

My favorite dudes of rock for, dare I say, over 25 years still do not fail to amaze me and transport me with their lyrical music.  Like fine wine (oh, what the hell, I know it’s a cliche) they have aged to perfection, and the music has evolved into it’s own classic standard.  Each album they put out has that one song that will live on and on.  For this album, the “Beautiful Day” and “Vertigo” is a song called “Magnificent” and it’s number one on my current play list.  Drive on a long winding road listening to this one, with the windows down and the sun flashing through the treetops onto the road splattering with color…you get the picture.  I can’t really pan anything on this album, except for Get On Your Boots, which is still a bit of a rocker, but lacks luster for me.  The opening three tracks (Magnificent is 2nd) leave me breathless. 

The best band in the world continues to feed this soul’s continuum…

Edie and Andy

Tags

60s, Andy Warhol, cameras, Edie Sedgwick, fashion, icons

Just love this one.  Thought about how they set this one up.

Femme de Lettres

Tags

cats, colette, femme, french writers, The Vagabond, Thoughts on writing, women writers, Writers, Writing

She was the original femme de lettres qui a mal tourne–the woman of letters who turned out badly.

In The Vagabond she describes missing writing so much when she had to earn her living on the stage:

To write!  To be able to write!  It means the rapt hypnotized gaze, caught by the reflected window of the silver inkstand.  It means the burning of the divine fever on cheek and brow while a delightful death chills the hand that traces words upon the paper.   It means also oblivion of time, the idle nestling in a corner of the couch while yielding free rein to a very riot of invention.  It means emerging from the debauch tired and stupefied but already richly rewarded and the bearer of great wealth to be poured out upon the virgin page in the circlet of light sheltering under the lamp…

Oh, to write!  That joy and torment of the idle!  To write!  Time and again I feel the need come upon me, urgent as thirst in summertime, to take notes, to depict.  And I seize my pen again and begin the dangerous, deceptive game anew, seeking to capture with my flexible, double-pointed nib the sparkling, fugitive, passionate words!   It is merely a brief crisis,  the itching of a scar.

Ah, Colette!  One of my favorite cat worshipers.  What a great description of the urge to write.  The Wit here is finally “itching her scar” with regularity this week, and finding some time to blog as well.  Here’s to hoping for the ever-lasting “oblivion of time” to get it down on all my virgin white paper, and to emerge tired and stupefied.  Feeling very “femme de lettres.”

Peace…

Michael’s Off The Wall

Tags

deaths, Michael Jackson, Music, Off the Wall

In memory of Michael Jackson – One of my favorite albums, my dear offspring.  Even after (and I can’t believe this) 30 years.

Memories of roller skating every Friday night…waiting for one of these songs!!

Hey Michael,  Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough!  Where ever you are…

Yogic Warrior of Love, Life and Destiny

Tags

Duncan Wong, yoga, yoga inspiraton, yoga poses, yoga practice, Yogic Arts

Working out some new yoga this week via the incredible Duncan Wong and his Yogic Arts practice.  He combines yoga with martial arts moves that tone muscles, open joints, and totally liberate your range of motion.  I found myself in positions I only dreamed within the first practice.  I love the insight on breathing technique, and the abdominal and gluteal sections have me a bit sore (all in a good way).  Duncan is incredibly agile, effortless in his moves, and perfectly sculpted, which gives this yogi some eye-candy inspiration.  Here’s a piece of an interview:

            “I was born to a Chinese beatnik father and a Scottish hippiee mother in San Francisco in 1968, a product of the famous “Summer of Love”.  Born into a street life of budo and punk rock communities, I vacillated between urban motorcycle youth culture and remote mountain native nature survival training lifestyles.

              I was a street fighter turned proffesional kick-boxer, in the Korean styles, and came upon yoga as a teen.  It was like a healing balm for my body and soul.”

What’s your yoga philosophy? 

                “Live, love, give.”

Link:  Chris Betras via Japan Today

Avant-Garde Djuna Barnes

Tags

Djuna Barnes, lesbian writers, modern literature, stories, Writers, Writing, writing life

We still need to know more about Djuna Barnes to grasp her unique style, her radical fusion, her ideology.  Djuna was born in New York State in 1892 to an artistic, eccentric, strong-willed family.  Barnes became a stylish, self-created, self-supporting New Woman.  She lived in New York from 1913 to 1919, creating a bohemian bi-sexual life-style.  Red-haired, she was a vital presence and a vivid wit, sometimes using the psuedonym, “Lydia Steptoe”.  And she stepped on toes earning her own living and helping to support her family as a journalist and illustrator.  She also wrote stories and plays. 

 Au Cafe, Photo by Maurice Brange of Solita Solano and Djuna Barnes in Paris, 1922.

During the 20s and 30s Djuna moved to Europe, finding a home in Paris, Berlin, and England.  Once again, her free-lance writing and her avant-garde lifestyle brought her into the artists groups and the lesbian circles.  She became friends with the celebrated lesbian leader of Paris Natalie Barney.  Her best known novel, Nightwood (1936) is a profound study of women relationships and encompasses her long affair with Thelma Wood, a sculptor. 

Others she associated with respected her work and her vision.  Some of these names included: James Joyce, T.S. Eliot, Mina Loy, Samuel Beckett. 

Later, after WWII, returned to the United States, moving to Greenwich Village.  Here, she had such friends and admirers as Marianne Moore and Dag Hammarskjold {just love that name!} who was the Secretary General of the United Nations at the time.  She was inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters.  Once a heavy drinker, she eventually gave up alcohol, but her famous red hair whitened with age and her brave wit seemed to turn vicious  and prejudiced nearing the end of her life.  She wrote, but rarely published, and died in 1982, sick of being old and alone.  (which is what this Wit sometimes worries about for some people that she knows.) 

Source:  The Heath Anthology of American Literature

Curious/Strange/I Can’t Stop Looking At It…Art

Tags

Abarat, Art, Books, Clive Barker, curious, horror writers, strange, Writers

The curiously strange oil paintings created by uber-creepy-story-and-movie-writer Clive Barker has got this Wit mezmerized.  Bought this book a few years ago and enjoyed the jouney into another world…not so far from our own…could be at the end of that empty field at the edge of town…know what I mean.  In any case, the teen Continuum members have picked up the second book, which got me thinking, and re-looking at the artworks of Mr. Barker.  There is a dark place in the Wit Continuum’s brain that loves pics like these; worthy of second, third, even ten glances.

 

In an interview Clive said that he actually started the paintings first, then sat back and his mind soared into a story surrounding them.  Clever, and quite obscure way to illustrate a book.  Fascinating  more so because of that I should say.  There was supposed to be a movie with Disney, I think, maybe in the working stage 5 years ago or so, but nothing has hit the screen yet.  Still waiting…(perhaps it was dropped–too creepily creative maybe??)

Only at night, when the vodka flowed even more freely…

Tags

Books, Erica Jong, Russia, Seducing the Demon, travel, traveling, vodka, women writers, Writers

An excerpt from Seducing The Demonby Erica Jong.  (Love this book: if you’re a woman and a writer you must read it).                              

The wonderful Chicago poet Gwendolyn Brooks and I shared a double-decker sleeping compartment from Moscow to Kiev, but we didn’t sleep.  We stayed up all night talking about poetry or reciting it to each other.  Robert Bly wandered from compartment to compartment, playing his balalaika. 

   When we arrived in Kiev, we were paired up with our translators, who were clearly also reporting to some lowly apparatichik at the KBG about everything we said and did.  That was also the standard in 1983.

    Matrons in black guarded each floor of the hotel and impounded our keys and passports. 

    For most of the day we sat in meetings wearing headphones in which we could listen to endless droning speeches in Russian or English.  Every hour or so we were summoned into the hallway for frozen shots of vodka, which I guzzled (not abstaining then), and gray greasy beluga in buds of butter, which we perched on toasted pumpernickel crescents or ate with spoons of abalone shell.  What beluga it was!  Could Marx have known that the best beluga would be reserved for Party members and their guests?

    At lunchtime, there was another three-hour food orgy with more beluga caviar, borscht, mystery meat and icy vodka.  For dessert, there were pastries and sweet Georgian champagne.

    Susan Sontag, who was nothing if not pragmatic about her career, toasted “the kitchen staff that prepared the meal.”  Clearly she had been here before and understood the full spectrum of appropriate Communist behavior. 

   Only at night, when the vodka flowed even more freely, did my sloe-eyed translator break down and weep.

   “Soviet Union no good place for momens,”  she whispered.   “Men drink too much wodka, become why-o-lent.”

   Studs Turkel would roam the city with his tape recorder trying to collect impressions of life under Communism, but an overenthusiastic comrade confiscated his machine. 

    During a performance of the opera The Bartered Bride, my translator lushly whispered to me, “Dat is fate of all Russian womens!”

July 4th – The fireworks of my uncle…

Tags

family, fireworks, Happy 4th of July, July 4th, parties, shindigs, viking helmuts

Another 4th of July already!  The Wit and family will be spending it with uncle who hosts a big shin-dig in the coal banked reaches of northeast pa.  Around 9 pm or so, after we have all heavily drunk of the wild cisterns of glee that are often called coolers, we will sit back and watch uncle don his viking helmut, hike up his pants, toss another cold one and present us with a show, something much like this.  (well, actually not quite this big, but close, mainly because it is so close!).  Not settling for sparklers, uncles asks the tent guy earlier this week “Have anything else?” to which he is discretly escorted to the back of the gentleman’s truck where cases of United We Stand and other such phenominally named boxes can be found, all perfectly legal, of course.  There is a competition in this neighborhood…fireworks can be seen lighting the sky from all directions, leaving us dizzy and aching in the neck by the time we are on our journey home, exhausted, stuffed, and slightly drunk (except for the driver of course!)  Believe me, you haven’t experienced fireworks until some sparks have fallen on you and you at least have a hair or two singed, or as one year, when Mr. Continuum was struck in the chest by a flaming falling firework shell).  

All hazards aside…Hope everyone has a wonderful Independence Day!  Happy Shin-digs! Let freedom ring!  God bless you all!

Peace…

Ah…I’ve provoked yet another nasty comment…

Tags

About page, blog comments, blogging, blogs, clean coal, comments, nasty blog comments, nasty comments, Theresa Duncan, Writing

Checked in today to see if all was well in my community here at wordpress, and found that my own home base was invaded.  Another nasty comment has exposed itself to my About page, from a dear Mr. Williams who does not blog himself, but thinks mine is, ah, what a word, “gross”.   Yeah, I don’t think I’ve use this word since 1983, well, maybe once or twice, but certainly not on the occasion of describing someone’s work.  He goes on to say that I am “riding on the coattails of someone who left us too soon.”  If you’re new here and haven’t read my blog, the coattails I’m supposedly riding are that of the late Theresa Duncan, an iconic blogger who passed away two years ago this week.  If you look at my sidebar you’ll see her.  If it’s her coattails I ride, so be it.  It’s been an honor, an enjoyment, an obssession, I’ve learned a lot about writing and blogging,  and I’ve met many interesting people from across this country, and some out of it, that have stopped by.  And if so many people have stopped by, I must be doing something right.  I regret nothing. 

And when the infamous non-blogger Mr. Williams says I should get my own ideas, well, quite frankly he hasn’t read much of my blog.  My most popular post has been hit on nearly 1000 times and it’s about my distaste for clean coal as it relates to my life personally.  It’s a brief story, to the point, and I don’t think it was Theresa’s idea.  If this is what my comment enthused Mr. Williams thinks. 

Like I asked some time ago:  Why do people bother with the nasty words?  What does it do for them?  Is it some need to boost their own ego, or just a love to derail someone else, thus making themselves somehow better?  I can’t figure it out.  He should visit that strange dude wearing the freaky masks blog.  I wonder if he’d call this gross also?  I wonder if it would be as gross as mine?

My first nasty comment shook me up–and Sarcastic Bastard was a sweet Georgia peach (my favorite) and told me to keep my chin up.  And I took those words to heart and have grown.  So SB, should I keep that nasty on my About Page, will that toughen me up, or should I deleted the eloquent user of the word “gross”??  Should I par with a witty response (I do have one) or let it hang?   Input needed here.  Lisa, pipe in if you get a chance.  Need an opinion.  Should I keep the reminder that someone hates me or not?

And if anyone has nasty comment experience, let me  know, especially if you were visited my Mr. Williams and called gross.

Peace…

Nasty Comment follow-up…

Tags

blog comments, blogging, blogs, comments, nasty blog comments, nasty comments, Writing

oooohhhh…I must say… that unprovoked attack …I LIKED IT!!  Especially the word “gross”.   Never heard that one before.  “Unrespectful” (which isn’t even a word) was the last nasty back in January.  (Guess I should expect one every six months or so).  Mr. Williams actually wrote “This blog is gross.  Get your own ideas instead of riding the coattails of someone who left us too soon.”    Can’t thank Mr. Williams for his opinion–like assholes, everyone has one. 

But, if this is what anyone thinks I’m doing,  I will proudly continue to ride the coattails of the immensely missed and deeply respected Theresa Duncan.  

Wonder if this guy plans on stopping by on the 10th?  Not to worry…still wearing my armor.

Peace…

Sad Day – Remembering Theresa

Tags

duncan and blake, Jeremy Blake, The Wit of the Staircase, Theresa Duncan

Today marks the second anniversaryof the death of Theresa Duncan, the inspiration of The Wit Continuum.  She was a great story writer, a film maker, and a creator of video games.  Theresa became an icon in the blogging world.  Her blog, The Wit of the Staircase, lives on in cyber-space, a reminder of what the truest wit can achieve in thought and writing (and interesting photo finds).  It became Theresa’s  final call in an esoteric, yet strangely sad, life.  It was too short, Theresa.  We would have liked to see more.  Why you gave up, we will never know, but in some infinitesimal way, I understand.  You left a haunting story behind…it will not die for a long time, if ever. Which is part of why I write here;  keeping  the candle burning, keeping the links alive.

What drew me first to her story was an article called Folie A Deux written for California Style shortly after Theresa’s death.  (Full article is in my Pages).   I’ve always been drawn stories that have me think:  one could not write a fiction better than this.  An inexplicable suicide of a glamorous, intelligent artist who was so young (only 40) and seemed to have a beautiful bohemian life, certainly had a beautiful love.  What made this story even more haunting was that seven days after her suicide by overdose of sleeping medication and alcohol, Theresa’s lover of 12 years, digital artist Jeremy Blake, took his own life by drowning himself in the Atlantic Ocean.  The deep probing question of why has been prevalent for two years now.

Theresa was an intelligent, exceptional writer, who made connections that none can fathom.  Her blog shows this clearly.  I enjoyed purveying it so much, she inspired me to start The Wit Continuum last September.  Some of her blogging style I have adopted, as you can see, but I notice it a lot of the blogs I’ve touched upon in the past year who have also loved and written about Theresa as well.  Spiraling my own thoughts and interesting stories, books, or ideas that I find, as well as writing about the fair Ms. Duncan, has been a source of joy for me, a challenge. 

Paranoid delusions and scientology conspiracies aside, Her story will never die.   One of my goals is to keep the speculation alive.  With a film about Theresa and Jeremy in the works right now, I think we’ll have more to blog about for years to come. 

Peace Theresa…wherever you are.

Moment of Surrender

Tags

Bono, Music, no line of the horizon, rock music, song lyrics, U2

At the moment of surrender /  Of vision over visibility / I did not notice the passers-by /  And they did not notice me / I was speeding on the subway / Through the stations of the cross / Every eye looking every other way / Counting down ’til the pain would stop / At the moment of surrender / Of vision of over visibility / I did not notice the passers-by / And they did not notice me

Lyrics by Bono

Feeling the cool summer groove today…peace…

What Could Have Been…

Tags

Carolyn Bessette Kennedy, Culture, Current events, History, John Kennedy Jr, news, president, tragic deaths, untimely deaths

I imagine what could have been…had John Kennedy Jr. and his wife Carolyn BessetteKennedy had not died ten years ago today.  Ten years has passed…I remember this day, like my mother and father who remember the day John’s father died before I was born.  And last year, with all the political landscape in turmoil, with Hillary, Obama, and McCain, I had often wondered what it would have been like had this man decided to join the foray… I think we would have been pleasantly surprised.  This possibly would have been his time, or perhaps, 2012, which would make more sense.   A friend of John’s on GMA this morning said that John had been privately preparing for the presidency his entire life.  He never stated that he would run, but somehow we all knew…

Today I remember and honor John Kennedy Jr. and his lovely stylish wife Carolyn Bessette Kennedy.  They would have been smashing in our White House…but only after, I might add, our current incredible pres and first lady had made their exit. 

These were two lives cut way too short.  He was only 39. 

That day, that glorious-weathered Saturday, when the news channels continually ran clips and interviews of John, one stands out for me.  Among all the numerous film clips of John walking down the streets of New York this one is timely:  John is walking and approaches some steps, obviously talking to the too numerous photographers that hounded him daily wherever he went, and from what I’ve read he was always polite to them.  Here we see John suddenly lean down, out of the camera shot.  I’m thinking, what is he doing?  Tying his shoe?  Did he drop something?  The camera finally pulls back and down at John, who is kneeling on a step, petting a cat that was sleeping there. 

Got to love this man.

Peace John and Carolyn…wherever you are…

The Wit Continuum Remembers Jeremy Blake

Tags

Art, artists, Culture, digital artists, History, Jeremy Blake, news, Theresa Duncan, untimely deaths

We may never know exactly what Jeremy Blake was thinking as he walked into the sea on this day two years ago, taking his life away from the world.   What we know for sure is that he’d found life impossible without his love, Theresa Duncan, who had one week previous committed suicide.  Her death was out of the blue, without a signal that something was wrong.  A shock to Jeremy.  With the courage of any tragic Greek mythological or literary hero, our own punk-drunk hero decided to join her. 

An up and coming digital artist, Jeremy was making quite a name for himself when he decided to take his life.  He created colorful hypnotic digital videos sequences that were shown in major museums throughout the world, including the MMOA and the Whitney Museum in New York and had one coming up in D.C.’s Corcoran Gallery.  In October of that year, they presented his work.  It happened without him. 

Today we remember this cool artist, the possibilities of what his career and life could have been, and the never-ending controversy he created with his untimely death. 

Peace Jeremy…wherever you are…

Mosaic Portraits

Tags

Art, Bob Marley, mosaic tile art, mosaic tiles, portaits, portrait art, recycled junk mail, Schimmel Art

I love these incredible mosaic portaits created by S.A. Schimmel Gold, who composes the Worholesque pics with hundreds of tiny, hand-planced scraps of postcards, menus, and junk mail.  An avid recycler, she even mixes the water-based, non-toxic glue by hand. 

Her portraits of some famous people are fascinating (I find myself wishing I could read the works in the tiles she has pains-takingly cut and glued together to shade and enhance).   She also does personalized portraits of people using photographs as references.  Being an artist who is fascinated with faces, I just love these works.  I’m not sure I’d be patient enought to attempt this, but these faces are inspiring me to work my own art.

Check out more at:  www.schimmelart.com/

The Man Without A Country

Tags

A Man Without a Country, Books, farting around on earth, Kurt Vonnegut, Luddites, Writers

The late, great Kurt Vonnegut’s A Man Without A Country was a nice read that I couldn’t put down not so long ago.  If you catch an extra day, give it a try.  How he would have detested our little blogging community, I would think, especially after re-reading these excerpts I had copied.  See what you think.

“I have been called a Luddite.

I welcome it.

        Do you know what a Luddite is?  A person who hates newfangled contraptions.  Ned Ludd was a textile worker in England at around the start of the nineteenth century who busted up a lot of new contraptions – mechanical looms that were going to put him our of work, that were going to make it impossible for him with his particular skills to feed, clothe, and shelter his family.  In 1813 the British government executed by hanging seventeen men for “machine breaking” as it was called, a capital crime. 

        Today we have contraptions like nuclear submarines armed with Poseidon missiles that have H-bombs in their warheads.  And we have contraptions like computers that cheat you out of becoming.   Bill Gates says, “Wait till you can see what your computer can become.”  But it’s you who should be doing the becoming, not the damn fool computer.  What you can become is the miracle you were born to be through the work that you do……..

          Electronic communities build nothing.  You wind up with nothing.  We are dancing animals.  How beautiful it is to get up and go out and do something.  We are here on Earth to fart around.  Don’t let anybody tell you any different.”

Well Kurt, love the words, but maybe not in total agreement am I.  I do love to fart around on this Earth, and will continue to do so….online…and off. 

Peace…

7 or 8 Things

Tags

character study, fiction, short story, story, Thoughts on writing, Writers, Writing, writing ideas, writing life

Whenever I write a new story, I take a tip from Michael Ondaatje, one of my favorites, and write out my own version of his short piece 7 or 8 Things I Know About Her  as a character study.  It always brings out curious, things un-thought of previously…I’m not sure why.  Here’s one.  This is a fiction piece.

               The Father

She waited every day for her father to return.  He’ll be home, probably tomorrow, her mom would lie.  She didn’t know it was a lie.  She’d listen for the Camaro’s engine every night until she fell asleep:  it was always quite loud when it came up the drive. 

              The Music

She loved the rock band’s songs.  When her mother took her to what everyone called the club, she thought of the tree house Sandy down the road had in her back yard and the ‘club’ the two of them created.  They played music on Sandy’s tape recorder.  They threw their supply of fist-sized stones at the boys who tried to climb up the ladder.  They played “I Love Rock and Roll” by Joan Jett and the Black Hearts and sang at the top of their lungs.

              One Dog

They adopted a dog with three legs that had been hobbling around the neighborhood.  He was old and raggedy but her mother patiently gave him a bath.  He slept on the rug by the kitchen door.  She took him out before school.  He hobbled off one day and never came back.  Mr. Pierce, who owned the bakery down town, said the dog was living with him for three weeks.  His name was fluffy.  She had called him Scruff.

              First Criticism

She is five years old and her parents are screaming at each other.  She sits and watches Sesame Street with her hands over her ears.  Look at that silly, stupid girl, her father yells.  She doesn’t know whom he is talking about.   She covers her ears tighter.

             Listening In

Over hear her in the bathroom of the dorm:  “You could have started over, you could have started over, you could have started over.”

              Self-Criticism

“I don’t like to feel sorry for myself but I always do.  Why do I always wear these same clothes?  Why don’t I get the highest grade, even when it’s an A?   Why do I have to wait to get picked every time?   I wait patiently for my time to come, because my mother says it will.  But when?

             Fantasies

To be picked as the lead singer of the famous rock band.  Her father says she’s got the chops.  She is given the spot without even trying out.   Everyone loves her.   She becomes more famous than her father.  He sits in the audience every night and claps for her.

             Reprise

At Sandy’s old house in the neighborhood, they tore down the tree house.  It had been up there for over twenty years.  She imagines she can hear that old Joan Jet song again as she drives by in the custom tour bus that is painted black and silver with her name emblazoned on the side in gold.  When the bus stops at the drive way a crowd of people she doesn’t know are there to greet her.  Her mother and father stand on the stoop smiling.

A Trip of Self-Discovery

Tags

family, fiction writing, memoir, memoir writing, Michael Ondaatje, Writers, Writing

Another piece of writing I love by Michael Ondaatje: an excerpt from his sublime memoir, Running in the Family.

“Once a friend had told me that it was only when I was drunk that I seemed to know exactly what I wanted.  And so, two months later, in the midst of the farewell party in my growing wildness – dancing, balancing a wine glass on my forehead and falling to the floor twisting round and getting up without letting the glass tip, a trick which seemed only possible when drunk and relaxed – I knew I was already running … I had already planned the journey back.  During quiet afternoons I spread maps onto the floor and searched out possible routes to Ceylon.  But it was only in the midst of this party, among my closest friends, that I realized I would be traveling back to the family I had grown from – those relations from my parents’ generation who stood in my memory like frozen opera.   I wanted to touch them into words…

While all these names may give an air of authenticity, I must confess that the book is not a history but a portrait or “gesture.”   And if those listed above disapprove of the fictional air I apologize and can only say that in Sri Lanka a well-told lie is worth a thousand facts. ”

White Dress II

Tags

celebrities, celebrity photos, Girl in the Black Dress, Kristen Stewart, red carpet, twilight, White Dresses

Like the dress, but will this girl ever look good on a red carpet??  I mean seriously, I have my doubts.  At least Kristen Stewart didn’t wear some old pair of Chuck Taylor’s with it this pretty dress, which unfortunatly would have been smashing if Miss Stewart didn’t look like she’d just awakened from a hangover.  She always seems to look this way to me.   

However, we have some redemption here in this James White photoshoot from 2008.

Heath Ledger Graces Vanity Fair

Tags

actors, Heath Ledger, magazine covers, magazines, Vanity Fair

Picked up this yesterday for the weekend trip.  Happy to see some haven’t forgotten him already, especially with all the never-to-see-the-end-soon hype over MJ’s death.  Here’s a younger talent whose untimely death still haunts us…

Love, love, love this shot.

Peace…

On the Road

Tags

Cartoons, driving, On the road, trips

Mr. Continuum and I are hitting the road this weekend.  Hope you all have a nice one too!  See you next week…

Peace…

Tess

Tags

Art, drawings, Illustration, pen and ink, portrait illustration, portraits, Theresa Duncan

 

Tess

©7/09

 

Artist comments:  Portrait of Theresa Duncan done with pencil, charcoal and black ink.  I used an online photo (some of you may know the one I’m sure, in my sidebar below) as a guide for this one.  Hope you like it.  Please leave constructive comments only, since this Wit is delicate of artistic ego.

Peace…

Artwork…

Tags

Art, artwork, charcoal drawing, deviant art, drawing, fashion, fashion illustration, Illustration, ink drawing, pen and ink, portrait art, portrait illustration, portraits, wednesday

Thought I’d share a few more pieces of my work from the past few months.

The first in titled Wednesday, followed by Indra.

And one more before I go…one of my favorites called Lucky.

Peace….

The Frequency of 8

Tags

8, body frequencies, eight, frequency, happiness, love, number eight, peace, prosperity, the power of 8

What I learned this past weekend was that the frequency for prosperity is the number 8.  Everyone of us has a frequency, every business has a frequency, every home has a frequency…and I believe even our web-sites have one too,  one that is beyond this electronically connected world. 

Prosperity comes in many forms:  money, love, happiness, health, peacefulness, knowledge, to name just a few.

What I suggest to you today is to take an image of an 8 and post it to your blog, or anywhere on a page and bring the spirit of prosperity to your world.  Personally, print out an 8, cut it out and fit it into your wallet (with a belief that the spirit of prosperity in the form of money will come.)  Place an 8 anywhere you want happiness, love, peace.

The number 8 has always been my favorite number.  Now I know why.  On its side it is the symbol of infinity.  WE go on and on and on forever…

The power of this suggestion can be very profound…enjoy the results.

Peace and prosperity to all….

Like This…

Tags

couples, Photography, poems, poetry, Rumi, Writers, Writing

 If anyone asks  you

how the perfect satisfaction

of all our sexual wanting

will look, lift your face

and say,

              Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness

of the nightsky, climb up on the roof

and dance and say,

                                      Like this?

If anyone wants to know what “spirit” is,

or what “God’s fragrance” means,

lean your head toward him or her.

Keep your face there close.

                                                      Like this.

 

From Like This by Rumi

Photo: Couple in the Rain by orange acid

                 flickr.com/photos

7 or 8 Things: Character Study

Tags

characters, Continuum Fiction, fiction, fiction characters, fiction writing, Michael Ondaatje, short stories, short story, Tales, Writers, Writing, writing promps

Another character study fiction piece using Michael Ondaatje’s formula short called 7 or 8 Things I Know About Her.  Here’s: 

7 or 8 Things I Know About Him: A Character Study; Quinn. 

  by J. Rains

        His Father

After his father died he burned all the notebooks.  He painted the basement black, where his father slept until he died, while his mother was on vacation.  Have to get away, she said.  When she came back, she picked up the notebook ashes with a dustpan and brush.

        The Cat

You look like something the cat dragged in, his mother said to his father.  He couldn’t remember the cat dragging anything in the house, except once a chipmunk, which looked cute and fat as it lay on the gold linoleum floor.

        The Pills

He secretly unscrews all his wife’s vitamin capsules and inserts a birth control pill in each one.  He watches her take the vitamins every day.  He doesn’t know that she replaced the vitamin bottle with a new one when she noticed the expiration date.

        First Criticism

He is five and his grandmother tells him that his feet are pigeon-toed.  He doesn’t know what this means.  He writes pejn-td in the notebook his mom got him at K-mart.

       Listening In

Overhear him say “you suck” and “fuck you jolly” to his new laptop computer.   Saturday morning.  9:30.

        Self-Criticism

“Growing up I knew I was different.  I was always alone.  In my head I was surrounded by people no one could see.  I still am.  I can work out conversations with all of them.   It gets me no where.”

        Dreams

The lucid one are about living at a beach house in California where a supply of pre-written novels are hidden in a cupboard, ready for submission.  In his real nighttime dreams he sees the dark things darting back and forth, his vision waning.  There is no beach.

        What we know…

Is that he has thought about taking his own life, how easy it would be to hit the entire bottle of pain killers and obtaining endless sleep.  We know his wife will find him around 6 p.m.

        What we don’t know…

Is that he is incapable of actually swallowing a pill.  We don’t know that his wife has been dead for almost a year and will not find him around 6 p.m.

                                                      ____________________________________________

Writers comments:  This is a character from one of my longer short stories. He’s a writer who can’t remember how to write.  It is actually a journey into a mental meltdown, a man so altered by the death of someone he loves…The cat sequence is from a comment my mom always said and an event in my own childhood when my cat brought home a chipmunk in his mouth for us.  It was quite cute, even though is was dead.

Listening to my own life break loose…

Tags

American culture, Joy Harjo, literature, modern literature, modern poetry, Native American poets, Native American women poets, performance, plays, poems, poetry, poets, women, women poets, women writers, womens, writer, Writers, Writing

Native American musician, poet, and playwright, Joy Harjo (Mvskoke), is a most beautiful, compelling inspiration to this writer.  Finding her in my deceptively-aged-reject-worthy-college anthology at the local library book sale this summer has been a gift beyond measure (found Djuna Barnes in it also).  When at a loss for a good read, I pick up this incredibly thick book–and today I found Joy Harjo.   “Her work provides a unique perspective and a piquant examination of American culture from a native point of view. Her verse cries out for the lost, the dispossessed, and the forgotten of reservation, rural, and urban America.”

Joy tours the country performing her play Wings of Night Sky, Wings of Morning Light, a work of music (she’s a dynamic sax player), poetic acting and singing on stage, a one woman act.  Here you can see a clip of her play from her website as well as a plethora of her works.

But here I present to you this poem  by Joy written in 1983. It leaves me hanging from my own window…in wonder….in thought….listening to my own life break loose….

The Woman Hanging from the Thirteenth Floor Window

She is the woman hanging from the 13th floor/ window.  Her hands are presses white against the/ concrete moulding of the tenement building.  She/  hangs from the 13th floor window in east Chicago,/  with a swirl of birds over her head.  They could/  be a halo, or a storm of glass waiting to crush her./

She thinks she will be set free./ 

The woman hanging from the 13th floor window/  on the east side of Chicago is not alone./  She is a woman of children, of the baby, Carlos,/  and of Margaret, and of Jimmy who is the oldest,/ She is her mother’s daughter and her father’s son./  She is several pieces between the two husbands/  she has had.  She is all the women of the apartment/  building who stand watching her, watching themselves./

When she was young she ate wild rice on scraped down/  plates in warm wood rooms.  It was in the farther/  north and she was the baby then.  They rocked her./

She sees Lake Michigan lapping at the shores of/  herself.  It is a dizzy hole of water and the rich/  live in tall glass houses at the edge of it. In some/  places Lake Michigan speads softly, here, it just sputters/  and butts itself against the asphalt.  She sees/  other buildings just like hers.  She sees other/  women hanging from many-floored windows,/  counting their lives in the palms of their hands/  and in the palms of their children’s hands./

She is the woman hanging from the 13th floor window/  on the Indian side of town.  Her belly is soft from/  her children’s births, her worn levis swing down below/  her waist, and then her feet, and then her heart./  She is dangling./

The woman hanging from the 13th floor hears voices./  They come to her in the night when the lights have gone/  dim.  Sometimes they are little cats mewing and scratching/  at the door, sometimes they are her grandmother’s voice,/  and sometimes they are gigantic men of light whispering/  to her to get up, to get up, to get up.  That’s when she wants/  to have another child to hold onto in the night, to be able/  to fall back into dreams./

And the woman hanging from the 13th floor window/  hears other voices.  Some of them scream out from below/  for her to jump, they would push her over.  Others cry softly from the sidewalks, pull their children up like flowers and gather/  them into their arms.  They would help her, like themselves./

But she is the woman hanging from the 13th floor window,/  and she knows she is hanging by her own fingers, her/  own skin, her own thread of indecision./  She thinks of Carlos, of Margaret, of Jimmy./  She thinks of her father, and of her mother./  She thinks of all the women she has been, of all/   the men.  She thinks of the color of her skin, and/  of Chicago streets, and of waterfalls and pines./  She thinks of moonlight nights, and of cool spring storms./  Her mind chatters like neon and northside bars./  She thinks of the 4 a.m. lonelinesses that have folded/  her up like death, discordant, without logical and/ beautiful conclusion.  Her teeth break off at the edges./  She would speak./

The woman hangs from the 13th floor window crying for/  the lost beauty of her own life.  She sees the/  sun falling west over the grey plane of Chicago./ 

She thinks she remembers listening to her own life

break loose, as she falls from the 13th floor

window on the east side of Chicago, or as she

climbs back up to claim herself again.                                   

 

 

Links:   Joy Harjo.com and Joy Harjo’s Blog

Poem Source: The Heath Anthology of American Literature

My Anthology

Tags

American Literature, angels, Anthology, Books, discarded books, lame sharing, library book sales, literature, old books, pages, pictures, thoughts, Willow Tree Angels

So, time for lame sharing…. here is a pic of my library book find (the beat up one on top, which I taped and covered in that clear wrap I put on all the girls’ notebooks for school) which I probably paid about 25 cents for…along with some of my other book sale treasures from previous years which all sit on my desk…along with some of my collection of  Willow Tree angels (which are not from library book sales)….

That anthology has 3264 pages of the finest almost sheer paper….I love that its name is Heath….It will probably take me the rest of my life to read it.

Peace…to fellow book lovers everywhere…

The more you read…

Tags

Books, creativity, literature, Mark Twain, musings, quotes, reading, reading books, Stephen King, thoughts, Twyla Tharp, Writers, Writing, writing inspiration

 

“The more you read, the more mentally fit you feel,” says Twyla Tharp, award-winning choreographer and author of The Creative Habit, a book I read some years ago and pains-takingly took  notes from.  She goes on to say: “If I stopped reading, I’d stop thinking.  It’s that simple.”  I can relate to this.  If I don’t have a book going, a feel some sense of incompletion to my day, a loss for words sometimes.  I guess my thoughts do get affected.  So now I have a book going, as well as my treasured anthology, for the poetry mostly and I’m feeling utterly inspired.  Now, if I could just sit down for a couple hours a day and write, write, write, we’d be in business.

Twyla goes on with her ecclectic reading advice.  She says to read for growth.  I do feel that each thing we read, good or bad, horrific or sad, changes us in some way…forever.  I have not been the same since I, years ago, read  a scene of Stephen King’s in which a boy steals a puppy from a kid he wants to harrass and locks it in an abandoned refrigerator at a local dump.  The puppy’s tail wagging weakly every time the scum-bag character returns makes my heart lurch…I wish I hadn’t read that scene…and sometimes wonder why I love that damn writer, but I do.  And it changed me.  And I learned how a horrible character develops that’s for sure. 

Mark Twain once said: “The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read.”

Twyla says:  “Who you will be five years from now depends on two things:  the people you meet and the books you read.”

It is so true.

Painting:  Girl Reading  by Oliver Ray

Source: my 4 subject notebook that is filled with writing notes and inspiration that I’ve kept for many, many years.

August 1969

Tags

1969, 60s, Culture, Music, music history, Woodstock

Peace……Love……..Music………Rain……….

Woodstock Photos: LIFE - Bill Eppridge and John Dominis

Silence is an ocean…

Tags

literature, ocean, oceans, poems, poetry, Rumi, silence, speech, Writing

“That’s enough for now.  Shhhhh.”  Silence is an ocean.  Speech is a river.

When the ocean is searching for you, don’t walk

to the language river.  Listen to the ocean,

and bring your talky business

to an end.

From:  The Essential Rumi…Send the Chaperones Away

Photo:  by Hey Tayyy on Photobucket

The Ones We Love

Tags

Art, images, love, people, photographers, Photography, photos, The Ones We Love

I find myself lost in fascination as I look through the delightful images I’ve found on The Ones We Love.  Created by 20-year-old photographer Lindley Warren, the online exhibit invites budding photographers to submit six photos of someone they love.  I couldn’t stop looking.  When you click a photographer, a hand-written page comes up, explaining their important person.  Some of my favs:

by Alexei Belozerov - Moscow,Russia

by Julio Cesar Isarrualde - Buenos Aires,Argentina

by Enid Crow - NYC

so you want to be a writer?

Tags

Charles Bukowski, literature, poems, poetry, Writers, Writing

so you want to be a writer?

by Charles Bukowski

 

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you

in spite of everything,

don’t do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your

heart and your mind and your mouth

and your gut,

don’t do it.

if you have to sit for hours

staring at your computer screen

or hunched over your

typewriter

searching for words,

don’t do it.

if you’re doing it for money or

fame,

don’t do it.

if you’re doing it because you want

women in yor bed,

don’t do it.

if you have to sit there and

rewrite it again and again,

don’t do it.

if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,

don’t do it.

if you’re trying to write like somebody

else,

forget about it.

 

if you have to wait for it to roar out of

you,

then wait patiently.

if it never does roar out of you,

do something else.

 

if you first have to read it to your wife

or your girlfriend or your boyfriend

or your parents or to anybody at all,

you’re not ready.

 

don’t be like so many writers,

don’t be like so many thousands of

people who call themselves writers,

don’t be dull and boring and

pretentious, don’t be comsumed with self-

love.

the libraries of the world have

yawned themselves to sleep over your kind.

don’t add to that.

dont’ do it.

unless it comes out of

your soul like a rocket,

unless being still would

drive you to madness or

suicide or murder,

don’t do it.

unless the sun inside you is

burning your gut,

don’t do it.

 

when it is truly time,

and if you have been chosen,

it will do it by

itself and it will keep on doing it

until you die or it dies in you.

 

there is no other way.

 

and there never was.

The end of summer…

Tags

back to school, End of summer, fall, flowers, hydrangea, inspiration, miscellaneous, Photography, poetry, quotes, summer, women, women writers, Writing

The end of summer I sense is near…My flowers are fading to a strange shade of grayish pink…but this is how they looked about a month ago.  With everyone gone back to school, this wit is getting a lot of writing done and feeling breathless…I hate the end of summer…but fall has so much texture.  I recently read ( because I’ve been reading so many different things I can’t find the quote or the poet) that the fall is like spring, where every leaf buds into a flower.  I like that…

Peace…

Phyllis McGinley Gallery of Elders

Tags

Culture, Elizabeth Taylor, Jack Nicholson, people, Phyllis McGinley, poems, poetry, Pope Benedict, Simone de Beauvoir, Ted Kennedy, women poets, Writers, Writing

Some short poetry by Phillis McGinley:

The Old Feminist

Snugly upon the equal heights

Enthroned at last where she belongs

She takes no pleasure in her Rights

Who so enjoyed her Wrongs.

The Old Politician

Toward caution all is lifetime bent,

Straddler and compromiser, he

Becomes a Public Monument

Through sheer longevity.

The Old Actor

Too lined for Hamlet, one the whole;

For tragic Lear, too coursely built,

Himself becomes his favorite role,

Played daily to the hilt.

The Old Beauty

Coquettes with doctors; hoards her breath

For blandishments; fluffs out her hair;

And keeps her stubborn suitor, Death,

Moping upon the stair.

The Old Prelate

God’s House such decades has been his

To tend, through fortunes or disaster,

He half forgets now which he is–

Custodian or Master.

Jennifer

Tags

Art, feminine, inspiration, mandala, mandalas

Jennifer

Earth Account

The Art of David and Theresa Silverthorn

I’m fascinated by these meditative mandalas which capture the essense of unification and expand the visual range of one’s soul.  (Quite a few are very ‘female/vaginal’ to me–a triumph in the feminist spirit.) Of course, I have to love this one…

Searching for a Scare…

Tags

Books, Culture, ghost story, Halloween, Jacob Black, movies, New Moon, October, Stephen King, Stephenie Meyer, teen, teen girls, teens, twilight, Twilight series, vampires, werewolves, Writers, Writing

I know it’s early, but Halloween is coming up…and it’s my favorite time of the year…
I’ll be slipping on my sexiest black clothes, look forward to that most beautiful harvest moon in October…and dive into a good scare. Every year I read something creepy around Halloween, and, of course, watch endless scary movies that dig themselves up on every channel, along with renting some, but this year I sense that I’m not sure I have a good scarey story ready for the reading. Last year, Stephen King, the king, and Duma Key was my obsession (have a spoiler review in October 2008 blog archives) and we watched The Shining after a lot of years of not seeing it the night before Halloween, so my scare fest was SK intact.
So what should I read this year? I love ghost stories, not a lot of gore, really mind-blowing character studies with creepy settings?
Anyone out there have a favorite scary book to read? (I thought of George Bush’s book but I might die with fright, and that would leave a lot of unhappy people around so…) Please send some suggestions my way… newer reads or classics apply here. I’m up for anything.
Meanwhile, now I have to get back to Simone…I’m currently reading The Second Sex, heavy (in thought and pages) but I’ve always wanted to tackle it and she just popped out to me a few days ago. Big difference from what I just finished.   My girls had me read New Moon by Stephenie Meyer. If you’ve been living under a rock, have no TV or only watch PBS, do not know one teen girl, or are dead, then you probably haven’t heard of this Twilight series, of which New Moon is the second book, and the movie to which is due out on….November 20, 2009. How do I know so much? Well, I have two teen girls…and up until I changed it 2 minutes ago this was my screen saver (which said daughter applied about two weeks ago):

Yes, this dude greeted me each day as I sat to write…thank God he’s cute…so I’ve seen the Twilight movie three times (it sort of gets better with more sittings, I notice the cinematography),  read that first book, and now the second.  I still feel the same: the books have one fatal flaw:  The main character Bella is so weak through the whole story that I want to scream (perhaps this is my scare).  I’m intensely aware that all the hype and fanaticism stems not so much from this girl character, but from the constantly rescuing, defending, and pulling -her- onto- their- laps vampire and werewolf guys that are in the novel and movie.  (Yes, she is literally so upset or weak or sick to her stomach or about to faint that four different times she is held like a child on the said laps, one of which isn’t a guy’s but that of a vampire girl friend’s where she cries, because she can’t seem to get it together on her own).   Heavy Sigh……all in all, the adventure in this book would have been much better if Bella had some back-bone.  My girls agree.  But, they loves the vampire, the vampire family, and this dude above, who transforms into a nice looking powerful wolf in the story. 

I try to remember what I read at their ages, try to compare my desires with theirs….there were some sexy books that my mother certainly would have raised an eyebrow at…often they contained a soppy heroine who falls so utterly in love with the startling handsome iron-muscled man of perfection heaven and she looses all sense of herself, does anything possible to get him, and gives herself to the throws of virginal love without regard because he is…well, all that and a bag of chips.  So I guess I see why Meyer wrote her books this way…it’s the classic romance with and little edge.  I just wish (once again) that Bella could stand up literally on her own two feet for once and kick some ass…instead of some guy is always doing it for her. 

Peace…

Camouflaged

Tags

flowers, Floyd, miscellaneous, nature, nature photography, Photography, stick bugs, wildlife

Named him Floyd…have no clue if it’s a male stick insect but…what the hell.

Got to love nature!!

Albums I Couldn’t Live Without

Tags

80s, 80s music, albums, classical music, inspiration, love, miscellaneous, Music, music albums, musicians, musings, Pink Floyd, songs, Tears For Fears, The Beatles, U2, violin, Vivaldi

Lisa over at Just Under The Surface blogged recently about the top 5 desert island picks for music, and she got me thinking…what music couldn’t I live without…

So here’s  my completely subjective short list:

Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd.

This is my favorits album of all time and is number one on many best of lists.  Able to enduce its own narcotic state without one having to take a single puff…

Best if listened to from beginning to end, since the songs blend seamlessly…not a bad piece for the rocker who likes to do yoga and meditate…I did to this album once…an etherial experience to say the least.

You would think that my favorite band of all time, U2, would be my favorite album choice…My problem is that I love every album and it’s hard to pick one.  The newest, No Line on the Horizon, I would put right up there with the best of their work, but I’d like to pick the ultimate here, so it has to be The Joshua Tree.  Although Tree is perhaps the most depressing of all U2′s albums, it’s lyricism cannot be matched.  Songs like Red Hill Mining Town and A Trip Through Your Wire never made the top 20 song list, but are some of the best songs written by Bono and the gang.  Grammy Awards abound.

What can I say…I’m an 80s girl so I have to include another dynamic 80s album, and a British band that was one of the best at the time:  Tears For Fears — Songs From the Big Chair.  I played this album until I wore out the cassette (yes, we still had cassette players in our cars, kiddies) until I got the CD, which I still carry in my little blue leather CD case.  I know every word to this album, if you can believe it.  The profound lyrics, based on a psychologist’s studies of how fear affects our lives, tells you how to face those fears, demolish them, and live your life…”Only we can…only we can, work it out!”

Next pic:  The Beatles: Love.  I love, love, love the Beatles.  The White Album or Let It Be may be their best albums…but for me I love this collection…why not get the best of the best in one shot.  I would have picked The Beatles No.1s, but this album sequences the songs brilliantly taking one on a spiritual Beatle journey.  Eleanor Rigby stops the heart….Later the acoustic version of While My Guitar Gently Weeps will make you “gently weep.” 

Peace…Love…The Beatles…

A few years ago I was a teaching assistant for my daughter’s violin class and I presented a story about Antonio Vivaldi, much to the fascination of the 6th graders I attended.  Vivaldi was a Catholic priest in Venice, nick-named The Red Priest because of his flaming red hair, where he taught violin and choir to orphaned girls housed at the church.  Unholy he was, however, keeping a young opera-singing mistress on the side while he served masses for the church, of which he was known to leave in the middle of the consecrations of the mass, sometimes not returning, simply because lines to a musical composition struck him and he would leave in order to eradicate it immediately lest he forget later.  He unfortunately was not well known at the time for his music.  He died a pauper, his music unknown, and was buried in an unmarked grave in Italy to which it is said a road was built over.  For some 200, yes, 200 years his works, like The Four Seasons, lay dormant with moths and dust balls in some closet in Venice, until about 60 years ago when they were discovered.    My favorite part of The Four Seasons is Summer.  Have the violin sheet music…but could never play it fast enough as written.

I leave you with a question today:   If you were told that you had only five minutes left to hear for the rest of your life, what song would you want to hear?

A piece of Anne Sexton

Tags

fashion, poems, poetry, thoughts, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

And I.  I too again.

I built a summer house on Cape Ann.

A simple A-frame and this too was

a deception–nothing haunts a new house.

When I moved in with a bathing suit and tea bags

the ocean rumbled like a train backing up

and at each window secrets came in

like gas.  My mother, that departed soul,

sat in my Eames chair and reproached me

for losing her keys to the old cottage.

Even in the electric kitchen there was

the smell of a journey.  The ocean

ws seeping through its frontiers

and laying me out on its wet rails.

The bed was stale with my childhood

and I could not move to another city

where the worthy make a new life.

                         –   from Red Riding Hood

Anne Sexton, gorgeous.

Another loss….at age 46.

Weekend Stories

Tags

beer, coal mining, drinking, drinking history, family gatherings, family stories, funny, funny stories, jokes, memoir writing, miners, mining, Shot and a Beer, stories, Writing

 

Of course we all got together Sunday, in celebration of Labor Day, a much more muted party, compared to the 4th, but it was nice.  Uncles had family stories as usual, the funny but true, and had us laughing until the bottles were empty…here’s one I had to write down and share, one I’d never heard before two days ago…

My grandfather, who we called Pop, was a coal miner in the 30s and 40s, making about $16 a day.  After work with regularity, he’d head over to the local bar, (what my mom pegged a “beer garden”) to have his usual ‘shot and a beer’ (“To keep the dust down,” he used to say).  Upon arriving on one such occassion he saw his friend Al at the bar, and when the barmaid came over to take his order he said, “Give Al one too.”  Now Pop was Slovak, an original from Czechoslovakia, and he had a thick accent which I loved.  When he’d said “Al” the bar maid thought he said “All” and she set up the entire bar with drinks.   Then she went over to my Pop. 

 ”Andrew,” she said. “That will be thirteen dollars.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Pop said, quite shocked.  “What the hell is Al drinking?”

Photo:  From the Pa. Miners Association history images.

One Year Ago Today…

Tags

birthday cake, birthdays, blogging, blogs, I'm not changing my name, Jeremy Blake, miscellaneous, musings, one year blogging, people, Photography, stories, Theresa Duncan, thoughts, wit, witty, Writers, Writing

One year ago today, 9-09-08, I clicked  “Start Blog Now” and The Wit Continuum was born.  It has been a wild ride, holding onto my butt, writing away, and hanging on some certain coat tails…and I’ve had my ups and downs this past year. 

My inspiration at the beginning of my journey was blogger Theresa Duncan of The Wit of the Staircase.  This, of course, has brought to me some nice responses and interest, and the not so nice also.  It is clear to anyone familiar with TD that I do take some cues from her, but over that past 12 months I’ve taken steps to come into my own party, as we say, as a blogger, as a writer, and hopefully as a trusted online friend to those I’ve connected with. 

It was never my intention to try to be someone I’m not.  I often thought of changing this blog’s name, sealing out any hint that I was “trying to copy” in some way.  I was and still am interested in Theresa’s life and her work, my simple wish being to honor it in some way, speculatively and with deep fascination, as well as the lives of others who have touched our life or our culture.  It was never my intention to try to continue Theresa’s work, for anyone would fall short of that.  She was too unique in her associations, her wit and intellect.  We are all different and “witty” in our own way.

“Wit” simply means a sudden and ingenious association of ideas or words causing surprise or interest.  A “wit” can be a witty person.  It also means reasoning and sense.  So I feel The Wit Continuum is a continuation of ideas, associations, and expressions that hopefully stimulate the senses of those who wish to stop by.  I can’t change the name.  I love it too much.

This blog has literally kept me going…not without some pit-falls along the way.  Two weeks into the blogging world around Sept 21, my computer was assaulted by a virus that wiped out everything, or I should say scrambled it beyond recognition.  It was deadly…but I did get free porn that came with the fucking bug.   Luckily, blogs are online so nothing here was effected.  Daphne (the name of my Compaq laptop) was gone for 4 weeks to Agent J who restored her cells and nerves and vessels and her brain.  She’s slower now, but I still love her and am reluctant to buy a new one (still have XP which everyone says is obsolete, particularly the guys at Best Buy–evidently I’m the only who still has it…).  I was scared at every pop-up for months….A word of advise:  do not click anything that says “security warning, you may have been infected”…it looked so real, even had a microsoft-like  icon on it…and for $29.95 and all my personal info, they would have rescued me–the ones that infected me to begin with! Virus scammers will burn in hell I’m sure.

My top posts to date have been the one related to Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake, no surprises there since they were my focus for so long.  But now some newer posts have taken the top spots I’m proud to say, one sarcastically titled “Don’t You Just ‘Luv’ Clean Coal” and my Edie Sedgwick article “Factory Girl Fascination“.   “Cosmic Love: The Punk Hero and The Girl Who Decided to Become Conspicuous” is the top TD and JB post. 

I’d love to say a special thanks to all who peep in and comment regularly, making my day with each word.  I love you all for your honesty (don’t blow smoke up my ass), your opinions, and you unique ideas.  I do the same when I can with great pleasure and love.  You all have great blogs too…all on my blogroll.

To Sarcastic Bastard, my first official regular, who saved my sorry, crying, fucked-up ass when I got that first nasty comment.  If you didn’t tell me to keep my chin up I surely would have closed this shit down (delete blog–are you sure?-click here…and all that) I always visit you to get a chuckle or to get pissed off (in a good way, of course)….

to Lisa from Just Under the Surface, a literature friend and poet with cool insight and really nice articles on her blog. Love the Rescue Me discussions…

to Debbie, somewhere in Phoenix, who keeps the buzz about Theresa and Jeremy going, and all those insightful links you share, and your love of Stevie Nicks (hope you read this, hope to hear from you soon)…

and new writer pal April from The Little Writer That Could.  Love all you prompts, feeling your vibe babe (and I watched Aliens this weekend again–thinking of you)….

and Mercedes from A Broken Laptop, a cool fantasy writer, of whom I’m so envious because she’s got her stuff published all over.  You get my butt in the chair, girl, believe it or not…

Well, it has been an awesome ride so far…

This is how I feel after a day of writing my stuff, and blogging all afternoon to you fine people.  As a rule however, I leave the catnip alone during this time. 

What more can I say…more days…the best days…yet to come.

Peace…Jenn

Photos: Birthday Signature Cake: www.cakefool.co.uk

                 Passed out Maine Coon Cat  by stewickie  at flickr.com 

P.S. to SB–The photo cat’s name is Bela.

Screen-saver Puss

Tags

Art, butterflies, cat art, cat photography, catnip, cats, Hans Silvester, pets, Photography, pictures of cats, Writing

Yea, nothing new here…I’ve been busy writing…yeah!!  And I officially placed Bela, the precious fuzz-ball, as my wall paper on my computer this week after my last post.  It makes me laugh every time I see it…and I wish this puss was mine!!

I leave you with a few more nice shots by stewickie at flickr…

This last reminds me of a Hans Silvester shot for his book Cats in the Sun.

Nice weekend to all…

Dream-Land

Tags

angels, Art, digital art, dream, Edgar Allan Poe, Eidolon, Night, poems, poetry, space, Writing

 

By a route obscure and lonely,

Haunted by ill angels only,

Where an Eidolon, named Night,

On a black throne reigns upright,

I have reached these lands but newly

From an ultimate dim Thule–

From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,

      Out of Space — out of Time…

 

From:  Dream-Land  by Edgar Allan Poe

Last night…

Tags

Award show, Kanye West, Lady Gaga, Madonna, Michael Jackson, MTV, Music, music videos, performances, Pink, T.V. shows, Taylor Swift, teens, televison, video music awards, VMAs

So I missed the semi-final tennis match with Roger Federrer last night…I was thusly sucked into watching the semi-porn, lewd comment, show that is called the VMA awards on MTV by two teens, to which I had to suppressed the urge to cover the ears of a few times.  I don’t usually blog about this kind of thing…but I witnessed things both extra-ordinary and unimaginable along with the ones I’d like to forget.

First off, Lady Gaga’s performance was mind-blowing.  Not since Madonna have I seen uniqueness expressed quite this way.  Gaga’s song was Papparatzzi, and she subsequently went from being worshiped, to being chased, to being down-right massacred on stage (fake blood popped from her chest — my mouth hung open for the remainder of the performance).  The audience audibly gasped and Lady was ultimately carried off stage by her dancers.  She later shows up in her assigned seat in the audience drenched in attire resembling fake blood from head to toe, and she accepted her award thusly dressed.  I’m still in wonder…and have to re-watch it on the web…

Pink’s bungy performance was rare and different…her little pasty over her minimal breast stayed in place throughout her hanging and swinging from several stories above the stage.  Her voice, if it wasn’t dubbed, and I think it wasn’t, sounded great.

The tribute to Michael Jackson to open the show was, to say the least, very cool and worth checking out online if it’s out there.  It featured pro dancers following the routines of Jackson’s videos on stage, while the King of Pop himself danced behind them on a huge screen.  Sister Janet joined in at the end of it, paralleling her brother’s moves.  Awesome…

And then we have the moment we’d like to forget,  Kanye West, taking over Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech for best female video of the year, only to announce his love for Beyonce’s video, leaving poor Ms. Swift stunned in her beauty.  I felt a tug for her.  Kanye apologized today, of course, for wrecking Taylor’s night, but word is the producers are considering banning him from the next VMAs.  I think it’s time.  This is the third time he’s made an asshole of himself.  Although I respect his talent, I can’t find much in his personality in these formats for admiration.  He goes on to say today that Beyonce’s video, All You Single Ladies I believe he’s referring to, was the best of the decade, and if he just would have kept his lack of respect to himself for just a little longer last night, he would have seen Beyonce get the award for best video of the year…which I think is what he wanted.  Best video of the whole decade?  I’m not too sure.  Best Asshole Award of the decade?  Kanye, you can take this one home.  (this award, by the way comes, with his own picture on it).

Recipe for Destiny

Tags

choices, destiny, faith, free will, God, honesty, inspiration, life, literature, love, miscellaneous, Music, poems, poetry, recipes, spiritual, thoughts, Writers, Writing

1 frozen container of God’s Plan

1 16 oz. box of Life (be sure to remove all “what ifs”, “I can’ts”, and “you shoulds”)

2 cups of love

1 cup of choices

1 cup of faith

2 tbls. of openness and honesty

a sprinkle of free will

 

Thaw out God’s Plan in a glass dish.

Prepare box of Life according to directions, using insight, synchronicity, and intuition.  While still hot, stir in God’s Plan and blend thoroughly on low speed.  Add love gradually and continuously and beat until smooth and creamy.  Stir in choices and the openness and honesty.  Pour into a large see-through dish.

Coat the top with faith.  Be sure to cover completely.

Sprinkle with free will.

Serve immediately.

Serves 6 – 8 people of importance in your life.

                 Great accompaniments to Destiny are:  fun, silliness, work, passion, knowledge, sex, children, change, movement, discussion, music, legacy, prosperity, brilliance.   Arrange all of these on a platter with Destiny in the middle for dipping.

 

Recipe: by J. Rains

Black Dress X

Tags

black dresses, black gown, fashion, fashion photography, fashion week, gowns, Victoria Beckham

This is one of my favorites from fashion week, designed by Victoria Beckham.  See more great dress pics at Hopscotch&Grace.

One Web Day!

Tags

Art, blogging, blogs, love, One Web Day, the web, Web

One Web Day!

Tags

Art, blog, blogs, love, One Web Day, online, peace, the web

What can I say…I love the Web.  Don’t we all?

Peace…

Well Kiddies, summer’s finally over…

Tags

bugs, End of summer, inspiration, katydids, miscellaneous, musings, Photography, summer, thoughts, Writing

Well, it is, whether we like it or not.  It’s not that I dislike the fall.  I actually like it and find the end of the cycle of things evokes a bit of closure in life, with leaves starting to change…soon falling from life, creating a lovely carpet to preserve and nourish growth for next year’s saplings.  But I still feel I missed something this year, and an article I found hit the mark.  So here’s my own personalized version, to make one think…to ease one’s mind…(if I can find it lately…)…

What I did not do this summer…

….walk with my love hand in hand on a beach.

….swim in a clear shining lake.

….vacation at some high-priced cheesy resort, just to get away.

….have a beer in the middle of the day.

….read Shakespeare’s complete works.

 

What I did do this summer….

….experienced family day at a theme park, complete with a ride on a 230 ft. steel roller-coaster, got off and ran back on to ride again.

….swam in crystal clear pools.

….sat on the deck, baking my skin, while I read Fahrenheit 451.

….stayed up late with daughter to watch Aliens, yet again.

Clyde-was not happy being photographed, he is leery of fame...and missing one leg.

….photographed the moon, flowers, a hummingbird that dined in regularly, huge butterflies, one stick bug named Floyd, and one katydid named Clyde.

….drove through a cornfield with the jeep.

….experienced a close encounter with fireworks.

….enjoyed the Rescue Me season.

 

What can I say…the little things make life worth living.

Peace…

Things That Piss…Me…Off:

Tags

bad drivers, Barack Obama, cloaking devises, Culture, invisiblity, Iraq, musings, nasty comments, pissed off, technology, thoughts, war, Writing

#1.  Obama haters.

#2.  People with money who  always plead poverty.

#3.  The war in Iraq.

#4.  Another driver who pulls out in front of you, then glares at you when you pass them.  (I always ask a passenger with me:  Did I have the cloaking devise on?  Was I invisible?)

#5.  Technology:  cell phones, computers, TV etc.

#6.  Lack of Technology:  cell phones, computers, TV etc.

#7.  Nasty comments on blog.  (Haven’t had any lately, but I’m bucking for one)

#8.  John and Kate (but not the plus 8)

#9.  Anytime someone says: “You should…”

#10.  Anytime someone says:  “If I were you I would…”

#11.   When someone says about another woman: “Wow she got old.” or “She looks fat.” or “She gained weight.”  (Like we should all look 21 and be a size fucking 3!)

and #12.  The Pope’s $15,000 gold slippers.

A Poem for Theresa Duncan…the girl who wanted to be conspicuous…

Tags

Art, blogging, blogs, Jeremy Blake, musings, people, poems, poetry, Theresa Duncan, women, women writers, Writers

Knowing what you wanted…

you became

just that…

 

with your words, with your images,

my dear, with all those lies you said

you believed, undoubtedly

were true.

You became haunted by your own people,

by garbage cans and gas grills,

by cars and priests,

by mirrors and musicians,

by men in black and booze,

by a secret lunar society,

and cults who cannot explain things

to any of us…

or to anyone. 

 

We saw your talent:  in the games

you created, The History of Glamour

paralleling your life’s design.

We witnessed your lasting love,

your marriage without papers.

What you had to live for…

if only you recognized

the regular day,

if only you were witnessing

what we had witnessed.

 

You were the true “wit”,

the diva of the Staircase,

which lives on and on

without you, in cyberspace,

haunting us all with your beauty.

Some moments, those when I hit the

middle mark, I think

I can see a bit of you.

A woman has her mysteries, my dears,

a woman has her secrets.

What a relief it would be to not have

to “become” …

to become anything, anymore.

 

We are told not to speculate.

We are told we are riding your coattails.

We are told the mystery is not “duncanology.”

We are told to let you rest in peace.

 

What is it you wanted?

Anonymity?  To be always the unknown girl from Lapeer?

I think not…

 

In death

you became ever more

Tess by j.rains

conspicuous.

 

Poem by J. Rains with respect for Theresa Duncan. The Wit of the Staircase.

The Moon

Tags

moon, Photography, pictures

 

 

 

 

Ah….moonlight….

 

Peace…

Last night…Joss Stone

Tags

Dance, Dancing with the Stars, Jay Leno, Joss Stone, Music, performance, TV

I love Joss Stone.  Her voice, her look….so last night I (cringe here, kiddies) watched Dancing with the Stars just to see her perform…and she was fantastic!  Saw her on Jay Leno last week, performance with Smokey Robinson.  Very cool too.

Oh, and the dancing show…well, I didn’t watch the whole thing, skipped out here and there waiting for Joss’s second song…the iron chef dude looked pretty cool (don’t watch his show) but I’d probably root for Kelly Osborne. (can’t believe she’s doing this, but hey, everyone knows who she is now if they didn’t before.)

Astrid’s Arms

Tags

60s, Art, Astrid Kirchherr, beatnik, Culture, fashion, Music, music history, people, photographers, Photography, photos, The Beatles

So I just have to start saying, that I love her name, Astrid Kirchherr.  After seeing Yoko Ono and Sean Lennon yesterday it got me thinking about The Beatles, like I never stop, since, you know, all those Rock Band Beatles ads have been hitting and whenever I look at book shelf I see The Beatles bio by Bob Spitz and the Beatles Unseen Archives, a nice coffee table book I picked up last year at B&N.  But thinking of the Beatles leads me to thinking about the band’s women, and I thought of Astrid. Every photo I’ve seen of her, all in black, turtlenecks, cool beatnik hats, leather pants, and a camera in hand.

          Astrid Kirchherr is the German photographer and artist known for her association with The Beatles and her photographs of them while they were on one of their first tours in Hamburg.  At the time, she was the other half of the hip beatnik couple with Stuart Sutcliffe, who was a member of The Beatles in those early days, and best friend of John Lennon.  Sutcliffe later gave up the band to explore his talent as a painter.  Unfortunately he died tragically in Astrid’s arms from a cerebral hemmorage at the young age of 21. 

Astrid went on to be one of the photographers for A Hard Day’s Night.

Okay, so I’m bored…

Tags

Art, blogging, blogs, Charles Bukowski, Gemini, Halloween, poems, poetry, women, Writers, Writing

Okay people, I’m bored with my blog…so I changed the look…for now.  I’m a Gemini, keep this in mind.

Anyway, I love that October is here and I’m gearing up for Halloween…this wit’s favorite time of year.  I’m gathering and writing some creepy stories for you all that I hope you’ll enjoy for my second annual Halloween week featurettes.  I really enjoy posting last year…a lot of weird stuff to explore.

So I hope you like the new look.  I’ll be changing the header later–perhaps to something for the spookiest time of year.

Ain’t it grand?

art

as the
spirit
wanes
the
form
appears.

Poem: by Charles Bukowski

Nice weekend to all…peace…

Iconic and Controversial

Tags

Books, feminine, feminist, French, french writers, icons, Jean-Paul Sartre, people, Photography, Simone de Beauvoir, women, women writers, women's lives, Writers, Writing

One of the most controversial women of the century, essayist, novelist, and philosopher, Simone de Beauvoir has changed millions of women’s lives, awakening us all to the mystique of being a woman by authoring her most famous work The Second Sex.  Though Simone, herself, was uninterested in being a mother, she had become known as “the mother to us all.”

She “was the vanguard of French intellectual life for nearly forty years,” and became notoriously “the most public sinner in all of France.”  Her life-long unmarried relationship with existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre was the source of this.  “After we had decided what our relationship was to be, we were both embarrassed that we had even briefly considered the most bourgeois of institutions, marriage, to be the answer,” Beauvoir recalled.  Ah, yet another marriage without papers.

Beauvoir and Sartre were known as “the writing couple” who were together nearly every day, at work at separate desks or cafe tables…

Together they participated in rallies, visited heads of state on almost every continent, exchanging ideas with the greatest artists and writers of their era. 

Simone has become the ultimate feminist icon, always “deeply committed to her work yet always ready to put Sartre’s first.”  She had other love affairs on the side, both male and female, to which much criticism has been raised, and one longer ill-fated relationship with American writer Nelson Algren, to whom she wrote many love letters.  She always insisted that their relationship would go no further, for her committment to Sartre and his intellect was undeniable, even though her affair with Algren was physically satisfying. 

I had always thought of Simone de Beauvoir as this great, scary woman, independent of men, though not a hater of men (as some feminists have become), but one who sincerely did not need a man.  Yet, in reading her biography, I find that most of her financial “freedom” came out of Sartre’s open pocketbook.  Curious…isn’t it.   For a most admired feminist icon, she was surrounded by many men, the key to which, I feel, was their respect for her as an equal of intellect, and a contemporary in philosophic thought with all life matters.

Culture 101

Tags

Art, Books, Culture, gallery, literature, miscellaneous, Music, musings, paintings, Robert Hellenga, sculpture, symphony, The Sixteen Pleasure, Writers, Writing

“Have you ever read a great novel, or listened to a great symphony, or stood in front of a great work of art, and felt–absolutely nothing?  You try to open yourself to the text, the music, the painting, but you have no power to respond.  Nothing moves you.  You are turned to stone.  You feel guilty.  You blame yourself, but you also wonder if maybe there’s nothing there, and that people only pretend to enjoy…because they get good marks in Culture 101 for doing so.”  —Robert Hellenga, The Sixteen Pleasures

________________________

Personally I had this experience a few years back in NY in a nice gallery in  Soho.  My friends were raving over these ridiculous sculptures that were so ugly I felt like vomiting.  I was thinking:  What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I see the beauty here? Am I the stupid one…or are they?  I politely excused myself, caught a nice looking cup of coffee and met up with them later.  They were still chatting about the artwork, and I came to realize: They were faking it!  When I found this piece in the book The Sixteen Pleasures by Robert Hellenga (which should be on my favorite book list) I jotted it down, because it said exactly what I felt that day. 

(By the way, this was not the gallery we were in: those two drab whores are not my friends, and I’m not the pudgy queen-want-a-be in the blue dress. Or am I?– Love those shoes!)

Art That Looks Back at You

Tags

Art, eye, eyes, sculpture

Surreal bronze eyes double as park benches in Lafayette Square, New Orleans. by Louise Bourgeois

Turning-A-Blind-Eye from Studio8e9.com

Eye Candy Sculpture by Rosanne Palumbo

Here’s to looking at you, my dears…

Brain Candy – Word Play

Tags

amusing, brain, candy, comedy, dumb questions, funny, humerous, jokes, miscellaneous, musings, my job is a crime, questions, quotes

Found a cute list of Dumb Questions at www.corsinet.com.  Here are some I especially liked:

Sexual harassment at work – is it a problem for the self-employed? –Virginia Wood

After they make styrofoam, what do they ship it in? –Steven Wright {love SW, saw him live years ago!!}

Since Americans throw rice at weddings, do Asians throw hamburgers?

Are female moths called myths?

Since there’s a speed of light, and a speed of sound, is there a speed of smell? {I estimate this as about 10-15 seconds}

Are part-time band leaders semi-conductors?

Are there any unguided missiles? 

Was the pole vault accidentally discovered by a clumsy javelin thrower?

Are you telling the truth if you lie in bed?

Can a stupid person be a smart-ass?

Can fat people go skinny-dipping?

What do people in China call their good plates?

What do they call a French kiss in France?

What do you say if you’re talking to God, and he sneezes?

What happens if you get scared half to death,…twice?  –Steven Wright

 

And my favorite:

Crime doesn’t pay…does that mean my job is a crime?

Halloween Art

Tags

Art, creepy, Halloween, models, scary, sculpture, skeleton art, skeletons, spooky

Artwork:  Las Catrinas  from Sokalife.com  How would you like these creepies in your back yard? Maybe if she shared a smoke…

Creepy Art by Louise Bourgeois

Tags

Art, Culture, Halloween, Louise Bourgeois, sculpture, spider art, spiders, weird art, women

 

Parisian contemporary artist Louise Bourgeois.  What a piece of work she is? 

Photo of Louise: Maplethorpe Gallery

To be nobody but yourself…

Tags

cool writers, Culture, e.e. cummings, inspiration, musings, poetry, poets, quotes, Writing

“To be nobody but yourself – in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting.”

—-love this quote from the so-totally cute and cool, e.e. cummings

A Roman a Clef…

Tags

composers, Culture, Daniel Stern, Franz Liszt, History, infidelities, literature, love, Marie d'Agoult, Music, people, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

          Ah, now here’s a woman.  The mistress of the composer, Franz Liszt, Marie d’Agoult, wrote under the pen name Daniel Stern, a roman a clef, in French it means ‘a novel with a key’, called Nelida.  A roman a clef is a novel in which the characters and events of the story represent actual people and events, though often exaggerated.  Marie wrote about her life with Franz, which was tainted with numerous infidelities on his part.  Franz was quite a looker in the day, a real Musical “Idol” much like what we have today.  He had his female fans to cope with I’m sure.  Marie bore him two children before finally leaving him.
            Her book has been translated from the French by Lynn Hoggard.  The name “Nelida” is an anagram of “Daniel.”  Bernadette Peters played Marie in the film, Impromptu.

Nip Tuck Tonight…

Tags

FX, Nip Tuck, plastic surgury, sex, T.V. shows, Television, TV

Yes, I cannot wait for the new season tonight on FX…cheesy, I know.  But those nice male bare butts, sexual situations, and some “should be on HBO” language keeps me interested on boring nights.  Mr. Continuum left the audience last season when a woman lobbed off her breast with an electric meat cutter in our fair doctors’ reception room.  Botox injected into a baby’s lips for modeling was another tactless teaser with questionable moral value.  But this is what we tune in for, right? 

When last we left our favorite plastic surgeons, Christian Troy, the “never a dry dick” character,  had just married his long time female employee/friend, settling for her former lesbian self because he was diagnosed with cancer and had 6 months, give or take, to live.  She was someone who he could trust to get him through, plus, she’s a nurse so his egotistic self was assured the best care possible.  The last episode, unexpected yet expected, because, really, can they kill the main guy off?–featured Troy finding out from his doctor that his files had been mixed up–he was not dying, and his cancer was completely gone. 

Can’t wait for the repercussions of this marriage dilemma.  Did I say you could call me cheesy????????

Le Petit Chaperon Rouge…

Tags

Art, Books, Brothers Grimm, Culture, fairy tales, fashion, literature, Little Red Riding Hood, red, red riding hood, stories, Tales, Writing

The more I look into fairy tales…the more I love.  I’m currently working on my book of fairy-tales re-told, but here’s a piece on the Little Red Riding Hood traditions from The Annotated Brothers Grimm by Maria Tatar:

“ The French and German titles for the story–”Le petit chaperon rouge” and “Rotkappchen –suggest caps rather than hoods.  Psychoanalytic critics have made much of the color red, equating it with sin, passion, blood, sexuality and thereby suggesting a certain complicity on the part of Red Riding Hood in the symbolic seduction enacted in the tale.  But these views have been rebutted by folklorists and historians, who point out that the color red was first introduced in Perrault’s literary version of the tale and that it can have political as well as moral associations.  These days, a girl wearing red produces a nearly automatic association to the story, and advertisers ceaselessly exploit that allusion as they turn Little Red Riding Hood from a childish innocent into a red-hot femme fatale.”

 Lil Red Riding Hood by Karri Klawiter www.redbubble.com

“Wit”icism of the Week

Tags

funny, miscellaneous, musings, people, quotes, thoughts, Writing

Simple post today…

Usually I find that when someone says “to make a long story short”, they’ve been numbing your brain with their story for over an hour.   (Brain cell pulverization applies here…)

 

Peace…and nice weekend to all…

More blogging…

Tags

blogging, blogs, costumes, fairy tales, funny, Halloween, movies, musings, NaNoWriMo, quotes, stories, Tales, twilight, Writers, Writing

More blogging…

Still working away on my own collection of fairy tale re-writes. Almost complete….just in time for National Novel Writing Month.  Yes, Mercedes (hey baby lets write a novel together), I’m getting my fingers ready to type…I missed it last year, but in February I joined BIAM-Book In A Month Club and wrote a first draft of Red, Snow, and Sleep, my own fairy tale novel (which my new blog is named after). I had a marvelous time, met some cool people and wrote away.  Ended up with 55,ooo words or so (in 28 days no less!).  It still needs a total re-write, but it is there, complete, in my file and it feels damn good.

And so…next week is Halloween week! My kick off is on Sunday with creepy, enticing, hauntingly heartless posts, hoping to cheer the spooky heart in all of you…if you have one…a spooky heart that is…I’m sure you all have a heart, uh, you know what I mean.  Spent some time and have some posts scheduled for next week already.  I love scheduling ahead.  Mmmmm…can’t seem to do that on Blogger….Wordpress and Blogger each have their perks it seems.  Hope you enjoy next week’s posts, and Halloween, of course, this Wit’s favorite time of year.  Right around the corner.

Personal note: Teens are going as a bat (bat Skelanimal hoodie with makeup) and Werewolf (Team Jacob hoodie that says: Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? She’ll wear a werewolf mask and wolf paw gloves.  I’ll be the human slave driving around a whole pack of wolves and vampire Vulturi from Twilight when all their friends arrive!  Can’t wait!)

I leave you with a writing ‘wit’-icism:  Re-writing takes time, patience, dedication, discipline, sleepless night….a bottle of wine (or two)…basically re-writing sucks!  (except for the wine, of course…)

Peace…

Life in Utopia…or dystopia…

Tags

Books, Culture, dystopia, literature, society, utopia, utopian society, Writers, Writing

So, where is your mind at?  Will we ever be heading for a utopian society?  If we are, what in the unfathomable depths of your mind do you think it would be like?

The difference between a utopia and a dystopia bring forth complete opposites. Yet, in our literature we see the idea presented on basic principles of utopia, which there on the page actually creates a dystopia. Utopia ia an ideal world, a perfect political state, a blissful way of life.  Dare we wish it?  All people equal, all cared for, regardless of race, religion, ideology (perhaps we’d all have the same), sexual preferences, moral values.  Plato’s Republic was the first utopian work of literature.  Thomas More wrote Utopia in 1516.

Samuel Butler was another literary utopia writer with a work titled strangely, Erewhon. Published in 1872 this title is an anagram of the word “nowhere.”

Utopia literally means “a good place.”
In contrast, dystopia means “a bad place.”  It is the exact opposite of utopia and this unpleasantness is brought forth in one of my high school English classic studies,  the imaginary world of George Orwell’s 1984.  We studied it more as a communistic parallelism.

But a dystopian favorite has to be Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, which shows that utopia is possible…

but at what price?

The Wit Continuum Remembers Theresa Duncan ’09

Tags

blogging, blogs, Jeremy Blake, people, Theresa Duncan, untimely deaths, women writers, Writers

The Wit of the Staircase

Born on October 26, 1966

Talented video game designer, blogger, filmmaker, critic.

Write-on….where-ever you are…

Vampires…oh, my…

Tags

Art, creepy, drawings, Halloween, Illustration, Richard Wilkinson, scary, twilight, vampire art, vampire illustration, vampires

Thought I’d get a jump on Halloween week with curious and creepy artwork called Vampmob by illustrator Richard Wilkinson.  He has quite a nice collection he’s done for books and publications.  View more of his work here.

He was not sure what he had been looking for…

Tags

Books, Fragile Things, literature, musings, Neil Gaiman, Writers, Writing

“He was not sure what he had been looking for.  He only knew that he had not found it, although there were moments, in the high ground, in the crags and waterfalls, when he was certain that whatever he needed was just around the corner: behing a jut of granite, or in the nearest pine wood.”       

                                                  – from  The Monarch of the Glen
                                                     a short story from the collection Fragile Things
                                                     by Neil Gaiman

silly damned thing anyhow

Tags

a trail of blood, Art, Charles Bukowski, creepy, Halloween, poems, poetry, scary stories, spooky, Tales, Writers, Writing

A creepy poem by Charles Bukowski….

we tried to hide it in the house so that the
neighbors wouldn’t see.
it was difficult, sometimes we both had to
be gone at once and when we returned
there would be excrete and urine all
about.
it wouldn’t toilet train
but it had the bluest eyes you ever
saw
and it ate everything we did
and we often watched tv together.

one evening we came home and it was
gone.
there was blood on the floor,
there was a trail of blood.
I followed it outside and into the garden
and there in the brush it was,
mutilated.
there was a sign hung about its severed
throat:
“we don’t want things like this in our
neighborhood.”

I walked to the garage for a shovel.
I told my wife, “don’t come out here.”
then I walked back with the shovel and
began digging.
I sensed
the faces watching me from behind
drawn blinds.

they had their neighborhood back,
a nice quiet neighborhood with green
lawns, palm trees, circular driveways, children,
churches, a supermarket, etc.

I dug into the earth.

Below Ground

Tags

cats, cemetery, full moon, funny, funny stories, Halloween, Halloween stories, Halloween tales, poems, poetry, scary stories, stories, Tales, Writing

This little tale came from the legend that if a black cat walks across a grave during a full moon, the dead person will rise.  Hope you enjoy.  Pic by winterwillow89-photobucket

Below Ground

It has not been easy
you know….the wait.
We’d all been there too many times.
Waiting for the full moon…
waiting for the black cat…

Then it happened.
Barnabey, over there, plot 182
on that full moon in October
caught himself a black kitty,
that traipsed right across his goddamned
tombstone.

Barnabey hardly knew what to do.
Suddenly his arms worked
and his face muscles (well, what was left of them)
and he took a breath, he sneezed,
all that fifty year dust.
We all sent him messages, “GET UP!”
“GET OUT!”

He rolled over, which wasn’t easy in a coffin,
but Barnabey was a skinny guy,
and he pushed up with his back
and his skinny ass
busting through the rotted wood, and
the worm-worked soil.

It was a quite fresh and pleasant.
Scared the shit out of the cat!

“Now what?” he said.
God, he was so stupid.
Then the cat ran, ran, over more graves.
A regular celebration.  Many re-births, many awakenings.
What a sight it was.  Not for the faint of heart.

Mine was missed, yet again,
yet I was the loudest.
All the others got to rise up…
some dead only a year or two,
like that screwball drunk  who killed
three people last year with his car…
he got up…he dug himself out.

Not me, dead for a century….waiting
for the precise conditions…

The moonlight still glowed.
“What do we do?” they were all saying, stupid idiots.
“What do we do?”

“Go get that fucking cat for me!” I kept screaming.

Then I waited…

 

Happy Halloween!!

Tags

Art, creepy art, Halloween, Illustration, pumpkin heads, Red Riding Hood Halloween

Link: Red,Snow,and Sleep

National Novel Writing Month!

Tags

Books, literature, NaNoWriMo, novel writing, novels, thoughts, women writers, Writers, Writing

Yeah! 

It’s here.     NaNoWriMo!

I officially started writing a new novel
this month.  To all participating, best of
luck and happy writing.  I wishing myself
the same.  I’ll be posting updates occationally
on my writing progress.  Virgin ear alert!
My future posts may be questionable in
content.

Just kidding!

Peace…

Red Dress I

Tags

fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Hilary Duff, Red Dress, Swarovski crystal, women

Hilary Duff with Swarovski crystal at the Red Dress Collection 2009 Fashion Show.

Yes….I’m still obsessed with red.

Novel Writing Update

Tags

literature, NaNoWriMo, novel writing, novels, stories, Writers, Writing

If your in NaNoWriMo, this may interest you…if not, read it anyway, eye-candy below…

So…I’ve been making awesome progress with NaNoWriMo…seriously hoping this will last. The second week is the great test to keeping up the race…it is why I love writing short stories so much, they are done by that time.

I usually keep a notebook with various notes and a kind of timeline-outline of events when I write a story. This time, for the first time, I’ve created an IDEA BOARD on a poster board that I keep under my desk and pull out when I begin to write–setting it up facing me.  It has worked wonders.

On the left side I’ve glued pics that I nabbed online of my characters, actors that I’d love to see if my book were a movie, or just a likeness of my written character. It helps me visualize… In the right hand corner I’ve glued a pic of the setting (sort of) just so I have the looks of the place in mind.  Multiple settings would require more pics of course.

Then through the middle of the board I’ve hand written What if questions, the character’s name and some ideas as to what will happen to them, what they’ll wear, what they’ll overhear, anything my mind brainstormed as possibilities to put in the story. It is so cool to just look up and see an idea I had last week, written out, reminding me to insert it when the time is right. All these little things hopefully will add up to a convincing and interesting book…with a bit of scare factor in it too!  Just a note on brainstorming: If you haven’t done it–do it!! Just sit and look at your characters and think of what could happen…then write it all down!

I have also written out a soundtrack for the story: If your story were a movie what songs would you choose as the soundtrack for it?  You can also connect the songs to different scenes.  I only have three songs picked so far…all fitting to the story line. What seems to happen to me, what I call my own “synchronicity” factor, is that when I’m in my car I’ll hear a song that just goes with what I’m writing…this always happens, I kid you not.  So take a listen to your radio, randomly, with openness, and the world of writer’s spirit may give you something you can use.

Up to 6311 words as of Tuesday, Nov. 3.  (1667 a day to stay on track).

Here are my a few of my main character pics, all pretty, I know, what can I say…

 

New Hollywood Glam

Tags

actresses, fashion, Film, Girl in the Black Dress, Marion Cotillard, models, movies, people, women

Sharing a glamorous love for Marion Cotillard…

 

Black Dress XI

Tags

black dresses, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Mary Kate Olson, models

An Artistic Feminine Force

Tags

Art, artists, fashion, feminine art, Illustration, Lori Earley, oil painting, paintings

In her October gallery show Laments and Lullabies, artist Lori Earley showed her latest surrealist figurative artwork. Being an artist who love to draw la femme faces and figures, I cannot help but be drawn to Lori’s work which I found in Hi Fructose Magazine.

“While her femme fatale portraits mature in style and intensity, they retain her signature ethereal quality that embodies an undeniably feminine force.”  –from www.loriearley.com

“My work is a fusion of personal experiences and influences – moody atmospheres, victorian-inspired couture, and timeless elements all laced with clandestine symbolism. The figures I paint exist in their own esoteric realm and time, and each painting offers a glimpse into their anomalous world.” – Lori Earley, Artist statement

Novel Writing Update…

Tags

NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, novel writing, novels, playlist, soundtrack, stories, story characters, Writers, Writing

Yes, I am still going full force with the novel for National Novel Writing Month. Have written about 19,000 words so far and am pushing forward. It has been a blast I must say. This story brewed in me since the summer, when I jotted out a few notes and did some character profiling. Now I am outlining a bit ahead as I go along, with a very, extremely general outline on my story board, and outline that can go any which way with the story or the character’s choice…we all know what those characters with minds of their own can do…or not do. This is fantastic for me in that sometimes when I completely work out a story the thrill of it just goes flat, like a deflated balloon. Then I loose the desire to sit down and type anything out. Tell me if this sounds familiar to you writers out there.

In any case, as part of my story board process that I mentioned earlier, I’ve created a soundtrack for my novel–like if it was a movie, what songs would I love to see in it. Except for a few songs, I haven’t picked scenes for them yet, but I just know from the feel and emotion of the songs, and from some of the lyrics, that they enhance the story line. Thought I’d share my soundtrack, a sort of playlist, if you will…

My Immortal  by Evanescence
Nothing Like Tomorrow  by Supreme Beings of Leisure
How Soon is Now?  by The Smiths
Good Enough  by Evanescence
Bring Me to Life   by Evanescence
Never Let me Down Again  by Depeche Mode
Stand or Fall   by The Fixx
Enjoy the Silence  by Depeche Mode
Goodnight   by Evanescence

Nip Tuck scene rings a bell…

Tags

Nip Tuck, T.V.shows, televison, Writers

Last night on Nip Tuck, my guilty pleasure in TV world, Dr. Sean, for the second time this season tries to off himself…this time in such a way that I found myself sitting there with my mouth open…not because I was shocked (which is usually the case with some of this show) but because one of the writers of the show has been no doubt  scouring the news or blogging scene…or it could be just coincidence…or it would be my own wit’s end crazy parallel conclusion…but this was the scene. 

After dumping his dead wife’s ashes (a whole other long, creepy story) in garbage can on a beach in California, our dear doctor looks out at the ocean for a while on this sunny evening. Then he slowly takes off his clothes, neatly folding each piece, suit jacket, pants, shirt, underwear, and places them on the life guard bench, his shoes, lastly, on top of it all, and walks naked into the sea, plunging in and swimming out, out, out…

The scene ends…

So my brain quickly makes the connection with Jeremy Blake’s suicide, for those who haven’t guessed what I was getting to. Call my crazy, but if anything, the writers of the TandJ movie might be a little pissed…I know I would be.

Opinions…

Tags

blogging, comments, musings, opinions, quotes, thoughts, Writing

“Opinions are like assholes…

everyone’s got one.”

 

 

New Moon is Rising

Tags

fiction, films, Jacob Black, movies, New Moon, screensavers, Taylor Lautner, wallpaper, werewolves

Yes, yet again, this had been my wallpaper for the past two weeks. The Continuum teens were on a high, waiting for this day!!  Finally here. Promises to me a cinema money-making blockbuster for sure. And, I have to say, Twilight wasn’t bad at all, in fact, in watching the movie again, with Mr. Continuum in tow, it was quite enjoyable. The fact that said hub-ster did not leave the room says a lot.  In any case, I will not be joining the screaming fans tonight, but will wait until the rush dies down a bit, so I can enjoy this one, and actually hear the dialogue.  On Monday I bought the last 10 tickets for the early evening show tonight in our local Regal. Girls were thrilled…and releaved.

Fan or not, nice weekend to all!

Seriously…who needs a drink?

Tags

blogging, blogs, C-word, inspiration, literature, musings, NaNoWriMo, nasty blog comments, nasty comments, National Novel Writing Month, novel writing, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

Seriously…anyone need a drink? I must say, after the past few days I’m in dire need. So this is a bit of a NaNo writing update. Suffered major setbacks with my story this weekend, and performed the bloodiest un-necessary surgery on my story, yes, during the first draft, and pulverized about 2000 words from my word count. How does tequila sound?

I have this problem, even though I don’t consider myself a highly dysfunctional perfectionist, I can’t stand when something is sitting there all wrong…it paralizes my momentum, and subsequently, when this flaw dawned on me, I could not longer write my story. …So I went in, with the delete-key blade and performed surgery. I ended up being satisfied by Sunday night, but the word count made me flinch.  On Monday, I officially wrote nothing. I just couldn’t recover my love, my feeling, my passion.  I started thinking…switch to short stories, start something else, re-write some more fairy tales, write 20 pages of “you suck”, copy some other novel, what ever.  Instead, the day really paid off, because as these fruitless thoughts did their rampage through my brain, I realized that what I was doing was good, maybe exceptionally good, and that with some editing (later–yes!) it could be publishable.  So I dove in on Tuesday and banged out nearly 3200 words, tied up the loose ends from post surgery trauma, and infused the story with some nice intrigue and mystery set ups.  I hope. I may be waving my own freak flag, but hey, sometimes we have to give ourselves our own thumbs up too! Right? 

On top of this, handling those nasty comments from this weekend (on Nip Tuck Scene post from last week, if you didn’t catch it) on this very fine blog which I love, love, love and refuse to retire from, didn’t help my writing situation, but it did spur my courage to push on no matter what people, I mean assholes with assholes, say about me personally or professionally. The use of the c-word pushed me over the edge a bit, not that I lost one bit of sleep over it, but it made me wonder: How could some nice girl, from a nice town, with nice intentions,  nicely share her opinions as she has a right to,  not asking for any money to do it,  is always willing to engage in constructive thoughts and other’s opinions, even if they differ from hers,  and nicely share some eye-candy with those she cares about,  end up being called such a word as the c-word??? 

It makes one wonder…

Pushing on through with the National Novel Writing Month of November.  It truly has become a memorable one. I think I’ll have that drink now.

Photo by Doisneau

Her Kind

Tags

Anne Sexton, poems, women writers, Writing

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods:
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where you flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.

From The Complete Poems  by Anne Sexton
artwork: Lenox1515 at Deviant Art

Happy Thanksgiving…

Tags

calorie counting, Cartoons, cat, dog, dogs and cats, eating, hairy family members, no calorie counting, pie, reddi whip, thankful, Thanksgiving, turkey

Eat the bird, eat the pie, drink the wine, watch the football, don’t watch the football, drink more wine, eat leftovers at midnight, drink more wine, tell hairy family members to bugger off, eat more pie with extra reddi whip…do all this guilt free, no calorie counting…being ever thankful for being alive and well enough to do it at all…

 

Oh, and make sure you have a laugh too…

 

Writing Days…

Tags

NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, novel writing, stories, Writers, Writing

Another update on NaNoWriMo.
Wrote 4613 words yesterday for new manuscript total of 40,271 words. I forget how many double-spaces pages that adds up to, 136, or something of the like.

I am aflame for this story and still afraid that it will die out, cool off, or burn up as soon as December hits and I no longer have the goal in my mind. There is something about keeping up with it, living up to doing what is set, in public, that keeps me going.  Why can’t I do this myself? Why can’t I set a goal, and do it, without the outside help? Discipline, I guess. But I have hope that I can keep going with it when the month ends next week. Only seven more days to go. The 50,000 words is no longer the goal for me. I know the story is going to take more than that, so to finish it is my newer goal.

Then I check in with some of the forum updates on NaNo website, I see some people loaded with words, some have reached the goal already, which is outstanding. Then there are those who post that they just can’t get anything going.  I’ve been there.  One guy commented that he keeps going over what he’s written and changing that so he never get ahead in his word count.  Everyone is telling him, “it’s a first draft, write some shit.” Some writers find this harder than others, I guess. After my trauma deleting surgery, I won’t look back at all, except if I see those red highlighted misspellings in the word program. I might stop and fix them, just to feel clean…ya know… 

Mainly focused on getting the words out, since each scene is sort of writing itself.  This time, I outlined as I went along, not bothering to outline the whole thing first, which I’ve come to believe totally hinders the process, but having a short path ahead is helpful, and leaving off, knowing where your going to start the next day has been key for me.  With this one, I haven’t jumped ahead to write scenes that I know are for the future; instead I’ve hand written them down in a brief account, with my note in the working outline of where I think it will go. I say “think” because half the time a scene will lead right into one that I thought would come in another storyline time.  This is the creative flow people! 

I’m loving the process for my sort-of first time out. I did do a novel in one month with Book In A Month website, which doesn’t give you an account like NaNo, but you keep in touch with some other writers doing the process also.  It went well, but the story, and the creative flow were not as good.

So this nano writer is having a good time. Hope it helps others to keep on the track, even if the goal is somewhere out there…just set another lower one and go on…that’s what we’re here for. Mind you, I may reach the goal, but it could be all just crap, right?

Here’s to writing shitty first drafts and eating turkey until we’re stuffed this week!

Peace…

It’s Official….

Tags

NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, novel writing, Writers, Writing

Yeah!!

It’s official. I completed the 50K  last night and it feels so good! It was a nice challenge and truly made this month go so fast. Now, before you know it, Christmas will be haunting us, my second favorite time of year. (summer is first.)

My novel is not done, however. So I’m going on with it, keeping up the 2,000 or so words a day it will take to complete it, which may take a week or two.  This challenge gives you the knowledge that you can set the time and do it. Novels don’t just happen one night. They take countless hours of writing time, brainstorming time, research, interviews if necessary…not to mention rewrites (which I so dread, but am feeling up for the challenge now more than ever.)

Someone recently said to me anyone can write a book.  I tried not to bop him on the head with the 548 page book I was looking at at the time. Really? I said. What makes you think that?  This, from a guy who reads zilch as far as novels go, zilch as far as non-fiction goes, unless of course it’s some money-making quick lick book. He knows someone who published a novel, self-published, so he’s under the impression that anyone can do it.  Any one can publish their book, I guess, but is it a book worth publishing?  That’s the question.  I sure hope mine is…I have a feeling.

Congratulations to all who participated, winning or not. I hope the challenge made you learn something about yourself as a person and as a writer.

Post Thanksgiving Note

Tags

literature, Mary Had a Little Lamb, poems, poetry, Sarah Josepha Hale, stories, Tales, Thanksgiving, women writers, Writers, Writing

So I came across this little post-turkey day information.

It seems that the little ditty “Mary had a Little Lamb” was written by a woman named Sarah Josepha Hale, in the year 1830. She was inspired by seeing a small girl being followed to school by a pet lamb. Hale also founded the first national women’s magazine, a periodical called Godey’s Ladies Book. Hale worked successfully to get Thanksgiving recognized as a national holiday. Lincoln was the pres who made it so.  Yet another woman who has changed our world, subtly and with grace.

Sarah Josepha Hale

 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Another note: I’m going with a December Divas idea for posts this month. If you have a favorite historic or recent diva, famous, or hardly known about, like Sarah, that you love and would be of interest let me know. Would love to post about her, with links, of course.  Elegant or off-the-wall divas welcome.  No limits.

December Diva: Anne Sexton

Tags

Anne Sexton, biography, literature, people, poems, poetry, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

A poetry diva of incredible talent, with which she used to prolong her life for many years. Anne suffered tremendously from depression, and the thought of dying often infused itself into her everyday life; suicide to her, was her life’s most stunning conclusion.

“Anne Sexton as I remember her on our first meeting in the late winter of 1957, tall, blue-eyed, stunningly slim, her carefully coiffed dark hair decorated with flowers, her face skillfully made up, looked every inch the fashion model.”

“Women poets in particular owe a debt to Anne Sexton, who broke new ground, shattered taboos, and endured a barrage of attacks along the way because of the flamboyance of her subject matter, which, (all these years later), seems far less daring. She wrote openly about mentruation, abortion, masturbation, incest, adultery, and drug addiction at a time when proprieties embraced none of these as proper topics for poetry.” – from How It Was by Maxime Kumin.

Here an excerpt from Anne’s biography I call the Elegant Ending.

“Sexton drove home through beautiful Indian summer weather, the trees of Weston already in what she called their sourball colors, vivid as candy. In the peace of her airy kitchen she poured another glass of vodka to sip while she phoned her date for the evening and changed the hour of their meeting. She seems to have talked to no one else, and she wrote no notes.
        She stripped her fingers of rings, dropped them into her big purse, and from the coat closet she took her mother’s old fur coat. Though it was a sunny afternoon, a chill was in the air. The worn satin lining must have warmed quickly against her flesh;  death was going to feel something like an embrace, like falling asleep in familiar arms.  Long ago she had told Dr. Orne, “Every time I put it on I feel like my mother. A genuine fur coat. Only she wasn’t big, my mother was very small.” (“She was big,” said Dr. Orne.)  Fresh glass of vodka in hand, Sexton let herself into the garage and closed the doors behind her.  She climbed into the driver’s seat of her old red Cougar, bought in 1967, the year she started teaching.  She turned on the ignition and turned on the radio.”

But surely you know that everyone has a death,
his own death,
waiting for him.
So I will go now
without old age or disease,
wildly but accurately,
knowing my best route,
carried by that toy donkey I rode all these years,
never asking, “Where are we going?”
We were riding (if I’d only known)
to this.

                        – from Suicide Note by Anne Sexton (June 1965)

The Red Shoes

Tags

Anne Sexton, poems, poetry, The Red Shoes, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

I stand in the ring
in the dead city
and tie on the red shoes.

They are not mine.
They are my mother’s.
Her mother’s before.
Handed down like an heirloom
but hidden like shameful letters.
The house and the street where they belong
are hidden and all the women, too,
are hidden.

                       – excerpt from The Red Shoes by Anne Sexton

Photo artwork: Girl in Red Shoes found at www.missaniela.com

Still here…

Tags

blogging, NaNoWriMo, Writing

My wits are still here…researching and putting together new posts. Also, I’ve been finishing that novel from my November writing month.   Stormed through some personal engagements over weekend, and a funeral on Monday,  but returning to normal…well, as normal as I can be, today. Sometimes I feel like Red in the picture above. Ya’ll know what I mean?  Thanks SB for the concern, and to anyone else wondering where I’ve been. It is lovely to be missed.

Night and her unpleasant offspring…

Tags

Chaos, classic mythology, Greek Mythology, literature, mythological figures, mythology, Night, stories, Tales, Writing

In Greek mythology, Night, the daughter of Chaos, gave birth to many unpleasant offspring, such as Death and Sleep, Eris, goddess of Strife, the Fates, Hunger, Quarrels, Sorrow, and Righteous Indignation.  She also had a grandchild named Lethe (Forgetfulness).

Imagine their family reunion.

Source: Classic Mythology Resource
Artwork: Chaos Queen by BloodRosesColl

Adam and Eve’s Day

Tags

Adam and Eve's Day, apples, Christmas, Christmas decorations, Christmas Trees, Culture, decorating, Garden of Eden, History, medieval history

I discovered that there was once an Adam and Eve’ Day. It was celebrated on the medieval church calendar.  Christmas Eve was called Adam and Eve’s Day. On that day, pageants and shows were performed depicting the fall of the ancient mythological couple from the Garden of Eden.  Always on stage, was the “paradise tree” which, of course, bore the forbidden fruit.  Many German families set up this tree in the mid-1500s.  This paradise tree could very well be the forerunner for our own Christmas tree.

Odd thing is, I own these antique Christmas decorations handed down from mum that are hand painted apples. I’ve used them throughout our decorating over the years, and a few years back sort of retired them.  But last year, when our new tree (finally a gorgeous fake one that doesn’t shed needles) needed some more red on it, I pulled out the lovely red apples to add just the right touch. Perhaps Eve had spoken to me.  When I was a kid, I always thought, why are these apples on a pine tree?  Why were they even created as Christmas decoration? Now, I see why.  Today,  Eve’s apples, for that is what I will call them,  sit on my mantle, highlighting the green garland that drapes it. Our wreath is adorned with some plastic apples and holly berries, which reminds me more of the Adam and Eve’s Day tree.

Peace and love to all on Christmas…

Doisneau’s Stories

Tags

50s, Art, Paris, people, photographers, Photography, Robert Doisneau

Each one of Robert Doisneau’s brilliant photographs tells a story. I find my eyes glued to one for a period of time with the character’s life flitting through my brain…the possibilities endless. Who are they? Where are they going? What little quirks do they carry with them? What life is like being around them? Here are just a few of my favorites–and I stress just a few, for most of them I find so damn intriguing. I featured one in an earlier post:
“Seriously…who needs a drink?” 

Kiss by the Hotel de Ville 1958

Les Chiens de la Chapelle, 1953

Square du Vert-Galant, 1950

Jacques Pervert Paris, 1955

Musician in Rain

Lost in Thought…

Tags

Art, blogs, musings, poems, thoughts, women, Writing

Today, it is one of those days. 
I am lost in thought…

Peace…

Links: above artwork www.designbygina.com

What the hell?…

Tags

Aerosmith, Culture, dudes who look like ladies, Music, musicians, Steven Tyler, thoughts, What the Hell?, Writing

You know, I thought I’d continue with my December divas idea for this month and in my research I came across this…

Okay, so…What the hell? Steven Tyler? Sheesh, the dude that sang “Dude Looks Like A Lady” now…looks like a lady! Makes one wonder what happened here. Mr. Tyler is not aging well it seems, and those lady’s sunglasses don’t help either. Sorry, can’t put him in the diva category… but I just thought I’d share.

Beauty and Brains…

Tags

business women, Culture, diamond jewelry, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Ivanka Trump, jewelry, models, people, quotes, women

29-year-old Ivanka Trump is the founder of her own jewelry line, Ivanka Trump Fine Jewelry. These diamond creations range in price from $750 to $1 million and are sold online and at her flagship shop on Madison Avenue  in Manhattan.

“Independence is the greatest gift. Growing up, my parents fostered an entrepreneurial spirit…I was encouraged to think outside the box, take risks that were well calculated, and make my own decisions after listening to the best counsel available to me.”

A brainy December Diva.

Oooooo! Wonderful Christmas gifts to say the least!

Source: Business Week

Black Dress XII

Tags

black dresses, business women, Culture, designer, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Ivanka Trump, jewelry, models, women

A Christmas Story

Tags

A Christmas Story, Books, Christmas, Christmas presents, inspiration, Katherine Anne Porter, literature, Photography, Santa Claus, shopping, stories, Tales, women writers, Writers

A Christmas Story

by Katherine Anne Porter

(an excerpt)

        When she was five years old, my niece asked me why we celebrated Christmas. She had asked when she was three and when she was four, and each time had listened with a shining, believing face, learning the songs and gazing enchanted at the pictures which I displayed as proof of my stories…..

       …then she told me she had a dollar of her own and would I take her to buy a Christmas present for her mother.

        We wandered from shop to shop, and I admired the way the little girl, surrounded by tons of seductive, specially manufactured holiday merchandise for children, kept her attention fixed resolutely on objects appropriate to the grown-up world. She considered seriously in turn a silver tea service, one thousand dollars; an embroidered handkerchief with lace on it, five dollars; a dressing table mirror framed in porcelain flowers, eighty-five dollars; a preposterously showy crystal flask of perfume, one hundred twenty dollars; a gadget for curling the eyelashes, seventy-five cents; a large plaque of colored glass jewelry, thirty dollars; a cigarette case of some fraudulent material, two dollars and fifty cents.  She weakened, but only for a moment, before a mechanical monkey with real fur who did calisthenics on a crossbar if you wound him up, one dollar and ninety-eight cents.
        The prices of these objects did not influence their relative value to her and bore no connection whatever to the dollar she carried in her hand.  Our shopping had also no connection with the birthday of the Child or the legends and pictures…..
        Christmas is what we make of it and this is what we have so cynically made of it; not the feast of the Child in the straw-filled crib, nor even the homely winter bounty of the old pagan with the reindeer, but a great glittering commercial fair, gay enough with music and food and extravagance of feeling and behavior and expense, more and more on the order of the ancient Saturnalia. I have nothing against Saturnalia, it belongs to this season of the year: but how do we get so confused about the true meaning of even our simplest-apprearing pastimes?
        Meanwhile, for our money we found a present for the little girl’s mother.  It turned out to be a small green pottery shell with a colored bird perched on the rim which the little girl took for an ash tray, which it may as well have been.
        “We’ll wrap it up and hang it on the tree and say it came from Santa Claus,” she said, trustfully making of me a fellow conspirator.
        “You don’t believe in Santa Claus any more?” I asked carefully, for we had taken her infant credulity for granted.  I had already seen in her face that morning a skeptical view of my sentimental legends, she was plainly trying to sort out one thing from another in them;  and I was turning over in my mind the notion of beginning again with her on other grounds, of lines between fact and fancy, which is not so difficult;  but also further to show where truth and poetry were, if not the same being, at least twins who would wear each other’s clothes.  But that couldn’t be done in a day nor with pedantic intention.  I was perfectly prepared for the first half of her answer, but the second took me by surprise.
        “No, I don’t,” she said, with the freedom of her natural candor, “but please don’t tell my mother, for she still does.”
         For herself, then, she rejected the gigantic hoax which a whole powerful society had organized and was sustaining at the vastest pains and expense, and she was yet to find the grain of truth lying lost in the gaudy debris around her, but there remained her immediate human situation, and that she could deal with, or so she believed:  her mother believed in Santa Claus, or she would not have said so.  The little girl did not believe in what her mother had told her, yet her mother’s illusions must not be disturbed.  In the moment of decision her infancy was gone forever, it had vanished there before my eyes.
        Very thoughtfully I took the hand of by budding little diplomat, whom we had so lovingly, unconsciously prepared for her career, which no doubt would be quite a successful one;  and we walked along in the bright sweet-smelling Christmas dusk, myself for once completely silenced.
                                                                                                                                           – 1946

Photograph: Brown’s Christmas 1940s by
                   Doug Loudenback - photobucket

Christmas tree up…I mean down…

Tags

Christmas tree, Culture, decorating, miscellaneous, presents, shopping, thoughts, upside down Christmas tree

I’ve just put the Christmas Tree up…uuhh…I mean…down, no up!
In any case…there’s more room for presents now!!
Happy Shopping to all…and a nice pre-Christmas weekend.

Christmas Kitten

Tags

black cats, cats, Cats in Art, Christmas, Christmas Kittens, Photography

White whiskers…what else could one want for Christmas?

Under a Christmas Spell…

Tags

black cats, cat art, cats, Cats in Art, Christmas, Photography, spells

Officially I am under the Black Cat’s Christmas Spell. Will there be snow?

Picture find: Witchdoctor

Quote…

Tags

beliefs, Culture, inspiration, philosophy, quotes, spiritual, spirituality, stories, thoughts, Writing

Father J’s quote from today:

“If you don’t stand up for something,
            you will fall for anything.”

 

Sad About Britt

Tags

actresses, Ashton Kutcher, Brittany Murphy, Current events, fashion, Film, hollywood, movies, musings, thoughts, women

           Saddened today to hear about Brittany Murphy, a little actress I’ve liked for a couple of years now. She was so cute, talented with natural humor, and she had an interesting voice.  I love this little movie she did with Ashton Kutcher a few years ago called Just Married, in which the recently wed couple venture on a honeymoon in Europe in which everything that can possibly goes wrong does, thus testing their newly married love to its limits.  Add to that an obsessive ex-boyfriend and her rich family who doesn’t approve of the “Pol-lack” she’s married and you get quite a funny picture.  Maybe not deep, my friends, but good for a laugh. 
          She was only 32 years old, and the talk about is that drugs, anorexia or something of that nature may have caused this young actress’s heart to fail while she took a shower yesterday.  We may never know…

But Brittany will be missed here.

Those days of enchantment…

Tags

blogging, blogs, December, enchantment, inspiration, musings, New year, poems, poetry, quotes, resolutions, spirituality, strange horizons, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

Upon reading this morning Flandrum Hill’s blog about December days of enchantment, I couldn’t help but think about what this month continually means to this Wit, with yet another year’s end approaching with the sound of aggressive horse’s hoofbeats…

The end of each year proposes numerous changes to deal out in many aspects of life. I sensed them coming so swiftly for days now, if not weeks, and my blogs no doubt showed this. Nothing serious, mind you, but I think we all feel a bit of resolution at the end of the year…whether we believe in resolutions or not, and I do not really, but I do think of changes I’d like to make in different areas of my life.  We make promises to exercise more, eat less junk, stop wasting energy, stop wasting time, set schedules, stop smoking; whatever the need.  I am no different; I am thinking of all these things too (except the stop smoking, since I don’t smoke to begin with).  And the lingering end-of-the-year question:

What is to come?

I love the word enchantment, because it bring about a sense of wonder, not of doubt.  It makes us realize that there is something beyond all bleakness, that new days come, bright with awareness and fullness of reason, that “something circling inside” our minds is telling us perhaps: you are exactly where you are supposed to be; enjoy it and see what arises.

You have said what you are.
I am what I am.
Your actions in my head,
my head here in my hands
with something circling inside.
I have no name
for what circles
so perfectly.
                              -Rumi 

So, with the enchantments of December filling my head, and the new year gaining energy before me, I sense some changes coming to mind, a new awakening, if you will.  Look here in the days ahead and you will find fresh appearances and new material at the Wit Continuum.  I am certainly not at my wit’s end, and I do hope you all will appreciate my endeavors, which come from the heart and soul of a wing-ed woman, whose thoughts are always circling, always soaring into strange horizons.

Something opens our wings. Something
makes boredom and hurt disappear.
Someone fills the cup in front of us.
We taste only sacredness.

Peace…

To a new year…

Tags

Anais Nin, blogging, blogs, Culture, Happy New Year, inspiration, literature, musings, New year, people, poetry, quotes, spirituality, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

“What I have to say,” Miss Nin writes, “is really distinct from the artist and art.  It is the woman who has to speak. And it is not only the woman Anais who has to speak, but I who have to speak for many woman.  As I discover myself, I feel I am merely one of many, a symbol.   I begin to understand women of yesterday and today.  The mute ones of the past, the inarticulate, who took refuge behind wordless intuitions, and the women of today, all action, and copies of men.   And I, in between….”   –from The Diary of Anais Nin 1931-1934, introduction

             Here’s to a new year, with new steps, fresh ideas, profound words, dynamic discoveries, enlightening quests, moving thoughts, changes for the better, and freedom of spirit.  And may all nasty commentors find their true place in this blogging world: the spam que. 

Happy New Year

New Year’s Weekend

Tags

Art, blogs, computer, computer games, computers, Culture, funny, games, Illustration, movies, musings, New Moon, Sims 3, teens, twilight, video games, What's a video card?

Well, the new year has started…well, I should say, with only a little bit of drama…but we’ll get by. 

The drama I mention is (and feel free to laugh) by sorry ass trying to download the Sims3 game for by two teen darlings. Seems my old Compaq, though upgraded nicely with a 1G memory boost is still lame when it comes to these latest games…but I love the thing, XP sp3 and all. So when the game nearly set my computer on fire with the heat it produced after running for 4 hours straight (mind you this was during all the fantastic bowl games on Saturday, a distraction I did not need!) it took a while to shut down. And the next day, the game said (well, wrote on screen) that I now had some video card problem and it could not launch the game.  This, after it played for 4 toasty hours the day before. I checked with my computer wiz nephew and he gave some advice, which I am still working on…otherwise it is good-bye to 50 bucks and the Sims3.

I’ve set my mind to read a book a week this year. Mercedes mentioned this too, so here’s to all the literature we may or may not consume this year. It is a challenge, but a good one, I should say.  If you have any awesome must reads, let me know.  (The books like War and Peace I may have to give myself ten days for…ha, ha.  Let’s be reasonable.)  Currently I am reading Read Like a Writer by Francine Prose.  Figured, I mind as well start there, learning how to read again, and then jump into some lit.  I have a little stack started already…

Joined Illustration Friday, a site that you upload a drawing using the prompt word for inspiration.  These will be posted, along with some of my other drawing on Moonlight Illustration.  Here’s my drawing for this week’s word: RENEWAL…

A final note:

Well, we finally saw New Moon.  What can I say?  Was it better than Twilight? Worse?  About the same?  The first hour Mr. C and I were totally bored.  Edward, the love-interest vampire, only smiled for a few seconds before adorning his face with that scowl that is sure to make the actor old in about 10 years…hopefully they’ll be done filming the rest of this series before that happens.  We were happy when the werewolves made an appearance.(Finally…like I said during the first movie-when are the bad guys getting here? waiting for some action, and yes, I know, the werewolves aren’t the bad guys)..and the creepy Vulturi vampires were slightly fascinating–all 20 minutes of them.  Then we were back to more lovey-dovey whining.  All in all, I’m glad I saw the latest…but think I’ll wait for DVD for next one. 

More posts on the way…

My Life So Far

Tags

acting, actresses, change, Culture, inspiration, Jane Fonda, journey, literature, movies, My Life So Far, people, women, women writers, women's lives, Writers, Writing

              “Life is a journey, not the destination…
I believe that it is more joyful to embrace and be in the journey than to assume you’ll ever ‘arrive’.”

Great words from the wonderful actress Jane Fonda.  Whether a fan or not, Jane’s book My Life So Far is a cascading story of how she made it as an actress, life with her fascinating husbands, studies of  the interesting people she met along the way (Simone de Beauvoir!) and, more importantly, she shares what it is to be a woman on a journey to herself, an ongoing journey in one’s life, no matter what your title or ambition or career choice may be. 

This is especially interesting. She sees a woman as having different ages, or stages in life I’d say, in which “Cycles of Change” occur, where a woman finds  random experiences and learns to grow from them.  She coincides this cycle to the acts of a play or movie script with which the climax and ending are only the beginning of finding your true self. Keep in mind, she wrote this book after she turned 60 years old.

ACT 1:   Gathering             ages 1 – 30
ACT 2:   Seeking                 ages 30 – 60
ACT 3:   Beginning            age 60 – and beyond

“ ……a girl can lose touch with herself, her body, and have to struggle – hard- to get herself, her voice, back.  Also, I believe that change can be a good thing, if you are fully in each phase and if the changes represent growth.”

“Denial can be a pathology or a survival mechanism–sometimes both.”

“I had just entered my second act, and as far as I could tell, my life had peaked and was on the decline….Okay, so I was wrong.  My life didn’t peak, nor was it on a decline.”

The alchemy of a changing life is the only truth.”
                                         – Rumi

 

Another “Renewal”

Tags

Art, artwork, digital art, funny, Illustration, inspiration, musings, nudes, women, women in art

Just thought I’d share this ‘zippy’ piece of digital artwork by Roma Gutierrez that I found on Illustration Friday.  If we shed our skin and started anew, what would we look like? …what would we do?

Elvis

Tags

birthdays, Culture, Current events, Elvis, Elvis Presley, Music, people, quotes, rock & roll

The man who changed music forever…

The Wit Continuum remembers Elvis Presley, born January 8, 1935. He once said: “Ambition is a dream with a V8 engine.” Cool way of thinking. If there is a rock&roll heaven, he’s got to be the lead…Rock on, wherever you are…

“…the image is one thing and the human being is another…it’s very hard to live up to an image.”
                                                    -Elvis Presley, press conference, NYC, 19

Source: www.quotesandsayings.com

Illustration Friday on Monday

Tags

Art, confined, drawings, fears, Illustration, Illustration Friday, inspiration, musings, thoughts, women, Writing

The word prompt for this week on Illustration Friday is confined.  I like to wait for the word to come up on Friday. This gives me the weekend to mull it over, sketch out a couple ideas, or write some ideas out.

The word confined had me thinking; first of a cage, something caged – birds, of course, was the first image that came to mind.  A cute bird, I pictured, confined to a cage, a pretty cage perhaps, but confinement just the same.

Then I drew a person in the cage, without the bird, holding on to the bars…waiting…
            for what?
            for whom?
            for what event to happen?

Then I considered:  Who put this person in the cage?  For what reason?   Why is she not free?

The bars….they also keep this person confined…What are those bars made of?

Which led me to this drawing….
                     What Confines Us?

You may have your own list.  “Time” was one I’d thought of later…or “lack of time.”  “Perfection”, as suggested by my daughter, was another.  Again, it’s all subjective.

Link: Moonlight Illustration

Within you Without you

Tags

George Harrison, inspiration, life, love, lyrics, Photography, poems, poetry, song lyrics, space, spirituality, talk, the space between, time, truth, Writing

We were talking – about the space
between us all
And the people – who hide themselves
behind a wall of illusion
Never glimpse the truth – then it’s far
too late – when they pass away

We were talking – about the love we all
could share – when we find it
To try our best to hold it there- with
our love
With our love – we could save the world
- if they only knew

Try to realize it’s all within yourself
no-one else can make you change
And to see you’re really only very small,
and life flows on within you and without
you

We were talking – about the love that’s
gone so cold and the people,
who gain the world and lose their soul -
they don’t know – they can’t see – are
you one of them?

When you’ve seen beyond yourself -
then you may find, peace of mind, is
waiting there -
And the time will come when you see
we’re all one, and life flows on within you
and without you.

-Lyrics by George Harrison, 1967

Photo: photobucket, puppielove06, The Space Between Us

A Butterfly in Winter…

Tags

Brazil, butterflies, butterfly, chaos theory, Edward Lorenz, fascination, miscellaneous, musings, nature, quotes, Science, spirituality, theories, thoughts

“If a butterfly flaps its wings in Brazil, it might produce a tornado in Texas.  Unlikely as it seems, the tiny currents that a butterfly creates travel across thousands of miles,  jostling other breezes as they go…and eventually changing the weather.”
- Edward Lorenz

Image source: www.thedailygreen.com

Vampires without Werewolves…

Tags

cinema, Daybreakers, Film, movies, new movies, vampires

…thank God!! or in this case, thank the writers of the movie Daybreakers.  This Wit loves a good, thought provoking scary flick now and then, even a bit on the horror side, and this one delivered.  This is a concept I don’t think was done before, at least not in this way.  Set ten years into the future, Daybreakers sets up a world where nearly everyone has become infected with a vampire virus, and they have all the classic vampire traits we know and love: sunlight turns them to ash, no reflection in mirrors, supernatural strength, never aging, eternal life, and can only consume blood for sustenance.  And this is where the story gets interesting…the few human that are left running around are hunted and saved for blood extraction to feed this immense population of monsters…who look pretty cool as everyday (or I should say every-night) citizens (above pic) who purchase a cup of blood like a visit to Starbucks.  But the problem is…they are running out of humans, and thus they are running out of blood, a disaster of world-wide proportion.  This becomes even more problematic when we find out that these lovely vampires turn into horrendous bat-like creatures when they are deprived of a certain amount of blood, and will literally attack their own for a feed.

Ethan Hawk – nice to see him, one of my favorites from 90s films, and Sam Neil is quite believable as a diabolical blood harvester, though he’s not as scary as I would have liked, and, well, got to love Wilhem Defoe, just because he’s Wilhem Defoe.  Nice twist in this flick on the whole take of making blood substitutes for the vampire population, as well as the cure–which was the ultimate twist. I won’t give away what this cure is…simply too ironic.

Daybreakers I found fascinating all through…until the gore-fest climactic scene.  True horror fans will probably laugh through it…but the bath of fake blood and flying limbs got to me.  It’s just not my thing.  But I liked this vamp movie anyway.  After New Moon, I was ripe for some real action with some real interest. …Anyone thirsty?

Peace…

Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen

Tags

1960s, book reviews, Books, Culture, Girl Interrupted, literature, mental hospitals, phychiatry, psychology, Susanna Kaysen, women writers, Writers

This is book two for 2010…read it in three days in spare time. What can I say, it is easy to read and too fascinating to put down.

Two weeks ago I found it on the sale bookshelf in local library, paperback with this cover for one dollar.  Why not? I said to myself, and read it this week.  Ms. Kaysen describes her stay at the renowned psychiatric hospital in Massachusetts, famous for its clientele–Sylvia Plath, Robert Lowell, James Taylor, and Ray Charles (who knew Ray Charles hit a loony bin?).  It was 1967 when she was admitted, and wasn’t released for nearly two years, all after a brief examination by a psychiatrist who completed the 18-year-old Kaysen’s interview with asking her simply if she needed a rest.  She was a tired girl that morning, and a bit confused, and she had picked at a very ripe pimple on her face (which the doctor noted) and she felt inclined to say yes, she needed a rest.  Within one hour, after a cab ride, and no parental contact she signed herself into McLean Psychiatric Hospital.   I still wonder about that interview. Who wouldn’t honestly say they needed a rest in their life, or a break.  Who doesn’t pick at pimples?

Which brings me to a thought-provoking question: Would I, myself, have been admitted after an interview like that…would any of us?

The book is a fascinating journey where Susanna meets other strange girls, equally deficient in mental health, many much more than herself.  Some of it is sad, some darkly funny, and a brilliant take on the landscape of the 60s, for women and girls in particular.  Susanna calls it a “parallel universe” to which she entered.  “And it is easy to slip into a parallel universe.  There are so many of them: worlds of the insane, the criminal, the crippled, the dying, perhaps the dead as well. These worlds exist alongside this one and resemble it, but they are not it.”

Reading Like A Writer by Francine Prose

Tags

Books, inspiration, literature, quotes, reading, stories, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

So this was my book for week one 2010:  Reading Like A Writer by Francine Prose.  I’ve given a challenge to myself:  Read a book a week for the entire year.  (Or so…I’ll give myself two for lengthy literature or poetry book!)  I started here, with a book I had no time to read about a year ago, and now have regrouped and picked it up again.  Why not learn how to read great stories, learn what to look for, gain some insight, and hopefully be able to apply it to my own endeavors.

Francine wastes not time in giving some staunch advice.  Right off the bat, I love what she says here: “Finally, the passage contradicts a form of bad advice often given young writers – namely, that the job of the author is to show, not tell.  Needless to say, many great novelists combine ‘dramatic’ showing with long sentences of the flat-out authorial narration that is, I guess, what is meant by telling.  And the warning against telling leads to a confusion that causes novice writers to think that everything should be acted out – when in fact the responsibility of showing should be assumed by the energetic and specific use of language.  There are many occasions in literature in which telling is far more effective than showing.”

Francine Prose is the author of 14 books of fiction and a teacher of literature and creative writing.  She takes you on a tour inch by delicate inch, sentence by sentence, through short pieces of our finest literature, showing a budding writer how to delve in and expand one’s own writing technique with fascinating advice and a wealth of knowledge she imparts smoothly and interestingly.  Great read so far!

Lavishly Nabokov

Tags

Books, Culture, Current events, literature, Lolita, musings, Nabokov, novel writing, reading, stories, Writers

“In 1962, following the international success of Lolita that made him financially independent, Vladimir Nabokov gave up his professorial post at Cornell and settled in Montreux, Switzerland, where he resided at the Palace hotel with his wife Vera and wrote his later novels, until his death in 1977. In the last two years of his life, which were marred by various accidents, illnesses and increasing physical debility, Nabokov worked on a novel called The Original of Laura, writing it, as was his habit, by hand in pencil on small index cards. It was unfinished – very far from finished in fact – when he died, and he had expressly directed Vera to burn the manuscript in that eventuality. Having rescued Lolita from the incinerator many years before, when Nabokov had a sudden failure of nerve about publishing it, his widow understandably hesitated to carry out his wishes with respect to his last work. The Original of Laura has lain in a bank vault for thirty years, the object of intense curiosity and speculation among aficionados, while Vera and the Nabokovs’ son Dmitri agonized over whether or not to allow it to be published.”  – David Lodge, Literary Review.

This new unfinished book evidently is hitting publication, and undoubtedly will be fascinating.  I love some of Nabokov’s work…and I say “some” for a reason.  Since I’m committed to trying to read a book a week (give or take), I’ve been scouring numerous recommendation lists of famous writer, average people, fellow bloggers, etc.  Francine Prose’s book Reading Like A Writer, which I finishes last week, has a book list of  must-reads in the back–which includes the subject I’m blabbing about:  Nabokov’s  most famous book, Lolita.  Just about every other list I’ve come upon has this book, which must prove its brilliance I assume.

I tried, people, I tried.  I tried to read the damn thing.  His prose is brilliant, to say the least, and I was grasped by the eloquence.  But not matter how I tried to overlook it, no matter how well I surged in and noted the timing and the word choices in the finest of literary sentences, I could not get past the fact that the main character Humbert Humbert is a sexually depraved pedophile who molests an innocent 4 foot 8 inch twelve-year-old and should probably have his dick cut off…and his hands.   Perhaps I lack the literary nature to read this book;  my wit-full intelligence keeps trying not be sick every time I try to read it.  (Perhaps having young teen girls in my house makes me…what?  I don’t really know when it comes to this book.) Or perhaps it’s not me at all, perhaps this book was written at a time when no one else dared enter the mind of someone so narcissistic and depraved, and it fascinated readers…and now the literary elite just leave it on their reading book lists.

As for Vlad’s last book, The Original of Laura, I may have more hope.

Source: Literary Review, Shored Against His Ruins  by David Lodge

Illustration Friday on Tuesday…

Tags

Art, blogs, drawing, drawings, fairy tales, Illustration, Illustration Friday, journey, Wilderness

Wilderness

Strange how what we have on our mind enters our dreams when we’re unconscious.  After mulling over the prompt word “wilderness” on Friday, I had a two part dream — part one: I was walking with Red through the forest (I think I was wearing a hooded coat also) set on a purposeful journey, we said nothing, we carried nothing. There was snow on the ground.  Part two: I was drawing her, walking confidently up a tree-lined path, snow covered and untread upon.  This was my answer…out of dreams.   More  here.

The Elephanta Suite by Paul Theroux

Tags

book reviews, Books, fiction, India, India culture, literature, Paul Theroux, stories, Writers, Writing

The Elephanta Suite was this week’s read.  It’s a book of three novellas, each presenting an aspect of Indian culture, exposing the differences in shattering light.  Half-way through the first story, Monkey Hill, I noted: “the narrowing cave of consciousness” and that “I was quite board with the story. This 50-ish year old rich couple, on vacation at an Indian ayervedic spa, are just plain dull…or realistic perhaps.”   I was about to jump to the next novella, but I read on…and did not stop until I finished, to an end that sent chills through me, to an end one would suspect, but not see coming.  In a word: brilliant.   (I have to summon more patience; I’ve been reading too much teen fiction.)

The second story, The Gateway to India, the longest of the three, was compelling as well.  A 40-ish lawyer escapes a failed marriage and divorce by taking an outsourcing job in India, where he is dazzled by young girls who offer services for money.  This other life he hides from his associates.  “He was a man who had discovered sex in India and thought it was magic.  But it was an illusion, the consequences of his having power and money in a land of desperation.  Sex was a good thing, because it had an end, and when his desire died he saw he’d been a fool.”  I tried to like this guy, but failed miserably (a bit like my feelings for Humbert Humbert in Lolita, I grew disgusted with the him and these naked girls giving him blow-jobs…and patting himself on his back for “rescuing them” with is money.)

The last story is called The Elephant God.  We meet the young woman Alice, who is traveling in the ‘wonderland’ of India, donning a sizable backpack and a smile.  After her traveling companion abandons her for a guy, a blatant break in the promise that they made in their own travel contract, Alice finds herself at the Ashram on her itinerary.  On a walk outside the gates she befriends a kept elephant in a courtyard and visits the docile memory-filled creature regularly with gifts of carrots or cashews.  But when a tragic event befalls Alice, she butts heads with the Indian culture and justice system in which “denial” plays a big part in–a part which Alice cannot win.  Instead, she seeks her own justice without remorse…surpising this reader once again.

This is the first book by Paul Theroux that I’ve read. He is an evocative writer of furious, thought-provoking, and disturbing prose.  Looking forward to one called Blinding Light in the future. A writer sets out in the Ecuador jungle in search of a hallucinogenic drug in the hopes of curing his writer’s block.  Mmmmmm….

Illustration Friday on Monday – Clumsy

Tags

Art, cartoon, cats, Cats in Art, drawings, funny, Illustration, Illustration Friday

This was a tough word this week.  All I could think about was a one of my cartoon character drawings to describe the word clumsy.  My Continuum teen staff suggested I draw Bella, from the Twilight series, since she’s clumsy throughout the story, and I considered it.  But this is where I ended up:  with Hank from my Hank and Shadow cartoon series in a not so graceful position.  Hope you enjoy it.

Flying into History

Tags

1960s, 1970s, Culture, Girl in the Black Dress, stewardesses, TV commercials, women

I’m always fascinated with the 60s and the 70s.  This was a childhood time for me and the things I remember are but flashes of light in my mind…the TV shows, the cars we rode in, the songs on the radio, the clothing, the commercials that told us to smoke and drink, etc.  And I do remember the airline commercials for some reason, so when I came across this article by Ann Hood about being a stewardess in the 70s I was sucked right in.  First off, Ann Hood is a gifted writer and storyteller.  In her article, Into Thin Air (Allure/April 2009) she talks about wanting to be a stewardess, and how it was often frowned upon. This was considered a job for not-so-nice-girls.  In 1969 and the early 70s we saw women objectified and suppressed still, and the airline propaganda and limited thinking of those in authority were no exception.

“That was in 1969.  National Airlines  had a TV commercial in which a pretty blonde looked into the camera and said, “I’m Maggie.  Fly me.”  Braniff International Airlines had stewardesses who modified their uniforms six times during the flight. Southwest called their stewardesses Love Birds (pic above).  And TWA offered domestic flights with internationally costumed stewardesses: The “British” dressed like wenches, the “French” wore gold minis, and the “Italians” wore togas. Just one year earlier, Coffee, Tea or Me?: The Uninhibited Memoirs of Two Airlines Stewardesses (Bartholomew House) had become a best-seller.  The book promised “a gold mine of anecdotes from the aerial and amorous lives of those busty, lusty adventurous young ‘stews’ of the swinging 60s.”

Ann goes on, after telling her guidance counselor, Mr. Stone,  her dream of becoming a stewardess to which “he burst out laughing” and writes with gusto what she was told, and what she did afterward.

“Ann,” he said to me, smart girls do not become airline stewardesses.”
“Why not?” I asked him.  All I wanted was to get out of the depressed mill town where I lived and see the world.
Mr. Stone looked at me and stroked his muttonchop sideburns. “Smart girls become teachers or nurses.  Or,” he added brightly, “they get married.”
In 1969 in West Warwick, Rhode Island, smart girls did not have a lot of options.  Teacher, nurse, or wife did not offer me a chance to see the world and have adventures.  I left Mr. Stone’s office and went directly to the library, where I took out a book called How to Become an Airline Stewardess.  It promised me lunch in Paris and dinner in Manhattan, boyfriends around the world, sophistication and elegance.  All I had to do was be tall (check), under the age of 26 (check), single (check), a high-school graduate (likely check), and weigh under 115 pounds (my adolescent body weighed in at 112, so…check).  I was on my way.”

Even more interesting is that when she did become employed by TWA, she lived in a constant fear of a surprise weigh-in, where her body weight would determine the continuation of her employment or her expulsion from the company.
“We had been warned about these checks–how we could get off a flight anywhere, anytime, and find a supervisor waiting with a clipboard and a measuring tape. We would get demerits for not wearing lipstick or our uniform jackets…for our heals being too high or too low, for bringing nonregulation luggage …and for a dozen other infractions.  And then we would be weighed.” She tells about starving herself, drinking tons of coffee, and not eating a drop of food after three p.m. to keep the weight down.  She’d been weighed in at 118, and if she went over that weight, she’d be fired.

Ms. Hood’s friend didn’t keep the her weight off, despite her best efforts. Her friend was met with numerous weigh-in, and subsequent demerits, until one day she was fired.  “Through tears and anger, she threatened discrimination lawsuits. “It’s 1979,” she said, “and women can still be fired for their weight?”

Have we come a long way, baby?  I would like to think that the airlines didn’t discriminate, that they held weight standards for the flight of the plane, etc., but the fact remains, those girls had to fit into those tiny hot pants and they had to be able to slip on those white leather go-go boots….and, of course, they had to be able to fit down the aisles effortlessly, but mostly they had to appeal to people they attended to, especially the male passengers.  “When I look at pictures of myself as a flight attendant, I see now that I was gaunt.  I see, too, that Linda was right:  Getting fired for your weight was outrageous.  But so were most of the requirements forced upon us. We were called flight attendants, but in many ways, we were still just sky girls.”

I still wonder:   Have we really come a long way?…

Photo source: Brian Finke

Perhaps new airline attire is a bit different.  And a few years back  Hooters Airlines went bust…no pun intended….

the end of the sky…

Tags

poetry

turn to the right at the end of the sky…

and know,
no…imagine,
no, awaken that sleepless
spirit inside who grovels at chains,
who clings to money and fame,
who waits,

waits,

for the whiskey to do its fine work…

yes, awaken that guy,
that seemless victim
and know,
that
there, at the end of the sky,

is

where

I’ll

be.

{italics from poem by e.e. cummings}

Taking leave…

Tags

blogs, leave of absence, Writing

they say that
nothing is wasted:
either that
or
it all is.

This wit is taking a brief leave of absence.
Please feel free to browse my posts from the past year….

Peace…

A Freewheelin’ Time – books read in 2010

Tags

60s, Andy Warhol, Bob Dylan, Books, Culture, Edie Sedgwick, folk music movement, Music, pop culture, Suze Rotolo, women

“One night maybe as much as a year later, I went to a party given by the photographer Jerry Schatsberg in his loft near Union Square.  A few of us went by car.  I think Bobby Neuwirth was driving, but I am not sure. We picked up others on the way, including Edie Sedgwick, who was part of Andy Warhol’s Factory and starred in his films.  She squeezed in next to me in the front seat and offered me a cigarette.  I said, No thanks, maybe later.”

- from  A Freewheelin’ Time

Suze Rotolo digs hard and deep into her memory of the 60s in New York and, of course, into her life with Bob Dylan, who she dated for four years or so and was his first real girlfriend.  One must remember that this is Suze’s story, and not a biography of Bob Dylan, so Dylan enthusiasts should slant themselves accordingly.  I was fascinated for a while with Rotolo’s romp into politics to a point, culture, the folk music moments that first surfaced in the 60s and her involvement in civil rights along with loving the rising star, Bob Dylan.  She mentions reading Francoise Gilot’s memoir, Life with Picasso, which ironically is the next book I am reading, in a chapter called “Revelations” which for Rotolo became a revelation in her life about what it meant to be attached to an artist.  She discovers similarities between Picasso and Dylan (????) and what it means to be a woman in a man’s world.

What I did not like was her chapter titled “Ballad” which consisted of three precise paragraphs explaining her unplanned pregnancy after breaking up with the unfaithful Dylan, and her subsequent abortion.  There is minimal emotion expressed here…and I felt nothing too.

I mention again to keep in mind that this is a story about Rotolo’s life, so looking for the Dylan/Warhol/Edie Sedgwick connection proved unfruitful.  I thought perhaps she would have a little slant on the story of the three, but Rotolo seemed to have been oblivious to the affair Dylan had with Edie Sedgwick, or that Dylan even entertained the idea of Andy Warhol as an artist.

“I remember going with Bob to a loft somewhere and watching one of Warhol’s films, a work in progress.  Bob didn’t think much of the film or of Warhol.  His taste in movies could be quite conventional.  Storytelling was important.”

All in all, Suze Rotolo’s storytelling was an interesting one.

Life with Picasso

Tags

Art, artists, Books, Culture, Francoise Gilot, literature, Picasso, women, women writers

This 46 year old book should be on any art enthusiasts list.
Life with Picasso, a memoir written by Francoise Gilot, is not in itself a complete bio of Gilot’s life, but true to the title it is the story of the 9 years she lived with Pablo Picasso.  As we delve into her perspective, we find the story mainly about the man who created Cubism, a post-war Communist and famous artist of the time in exile in France.  Gilot paints a sublime picture of Picasso; an angel herself it seems, throwing herself into the fires of the devil.  At times Picasso is very caring and passionate for her: she models for him often, he teaches her the finer details of art and painting in return for her considerable devotion and unquestioning behavior (she is so young, 21 to his 61 when they meet) but gives her relatively little else of himself in return.  At some points he treats her with open disdain and insult, always placating later that, of course she should know, he has a temper, he doesn’t mean it.  This happens so much that my dear friend Lisa, who recommended this book to me would ask:  Don’t you want to bash him on the head yet?  To which I whole-heartedly answered, Yes!

Francoise puts up with way more than an average “wife” would in any day or time, including the wife and past lovers of Picasso’s who somehow leak back into his life often, never really leaving.  His wife, Olga, even takes to following them around – at one alarming point she actually physically assaults Francoise, to which Picasso laughs.  Any woman would be sure to end something here, but such was Gilot’s love and understanding of this peculiar artist.  She was able to put up with his temper, his seemingly OCD compulsions (one time it took her three hours to get him to decide to get up for a trip they had planned, he not being able to decide if they should go …or not), and his possible Bi-Polar illness, all aside from the fact that he was a plain out self-centered bastard,  but a charismatic one which we see clearly portrayed when Francoise describes the many people who flock around him as well as the ones who avoid him.

There came a point I like dearly in which Francoise, a talented painter herself, who not only bears Picasso two children and relinquishes all else of herself there, but also surges forward in her own art work.  She is offered a show of her own by Picasso’s art dealer.  She immediately said she would have to discuss it with Picasso.  My instinctive fear was that Picasso would say something like this to her: “No, you are not good enough, not ready!  Who do you think you are? Me?”  But instead he was overjoyed and he supported her fully.  I suddenly thought he wasn’t so bad after all, a real Renaissance man.

But alas, a self-centered prick is always just that.  Rarely do the spots change, beautiful and talented and intelligent though he may be.  (Yes, I think Picasso was beautiful – something about his eyes.  And Francoise too…alarming in her natural beauty…)

But here in essence is my favorite excerpt.  It is a hint of the way Picasso was, but is more about Francoise herself and the children, who we read little about.  For a number of reasons this part brought me to tears.

Between and around my various jobs, I managed to find time to paint on my own.  When I went to live in the Rue Des Grands-Augustins, I had stopped painting for about three years and spent whatever free time I had drawing.  It had seemed to me that if I were to go on painting, it would be impossible to work next to Pablo without reflecting his presence.  I felt, though, that if I concentrated on the structural qualities in my drawing, I would be more likely to make progress in line with my own natural development, and that if I was being influenced by Pablo’s work, I would become aware of it more easily since fewer elements were involved than there would be in painting.  In 1948 I began working in gouache and in 1949 I went back to oil painting.

It would not have been feasible for me to work at Pablo’s atelier, even though he had ample room.  Working at home I was more subject to interruptions but I could keep an eye on other things — the children, for example.  Paloma rarely bothered me.  She was, as Pablo often pointed out, an ideal girl-child.  She slept almost around the clock, ate everything she was supposed to and behaved like a model for her kind.

“She’ll be a perfect woman,” Pablo said.  “Passive and submissive.  That’s the way all girls should be.  They ought to stay asleep just like that until they’re twenty-one.”  He spent many hours sketching and painting her as she slept.  She was so passive, in fact, that she rarely talked to either one of us.  And yet during some of her waking periods, we used to hear her chattering endlessly to Claude.  Afterward Claude would speak to us for both of them.  She seemed to want to remain a baby.  She would bring us flowers and present them, in baby talk, long after she was talking normally to Claude.  She was never rebellious, but she never obeyed.  Claude, on the other hand, argued about everything.  After one drawn-out session with him, Pablo told him, “You’re the son of the woman who says ‘no.’  There’s no doubt about that.”

It must have been lonely for them much of the time; they almost never saw their father, and their mother barricaded herself behind her studio door whenever she could see a spare hour or two before her.

Once as I was working at a painting that had been giving me a great deal of trouble, I heard a small, timid knock at the door.

“Yes,” I called out and kept on working. I heard Claude’s voice, softly, from the other side of the door.

“Mama, I love you.”

I wanted to go out, but I couldn’t put down my brushes, not just then.  “I love you, too, my darling,” I said, and kept at my work.

A few minutes passed.  Then I heard him again, “Mama, I like your painting.”

“Thank you, darling,” I said.  “You’re an angel.”

In another minute, he spoke out again.  “Mama, what you do is very nice.  It’s got fantasy in it but it’s not fantastic.”

That stayed my hand, but I said nothing.  He must have felt me hesitate.  He spoke up, louder now.  “It’s better than Papa’s,”  he said.

I went to the door and let him in.

-from Life with Picasso, page 256-257.

A Day in the Life of Abbey Road

Tags

Abbey Road, Abbey Road Studios, albums, Beatles, Culture, Current events, Music, music news

On BBC news today, EMI and its private equity firm Terra Firma, owners of  Abbey Road Studios has put the famous landmark up for sale.  The Beatles recorded their albums there.  Sir Paul McCartney has spoken out, hoping to foster support for a movement to keep Abbey Road a recording studio.

If sold, like many other places of iconic-pop history, the studio could be turned into anything.  A travesty of rock-history…

The cross-walk on the street in front still looks the same as the famous album cover and tourist/fans continue to visit the site and risk the life threatening traffic to re-enact the eternal image of the Beatles (one of my favorites too–and to be quite honest, if I ever get there, I’d have to try to get a pic too!!)

Check out the video here from the BBC article.

A Fashion Loss…

Tags

Alexander McQueen, Culture, fashion, fashion designers, fashion week, Girl in the Black Dress

Lee Alexander McQueen
1969 – 2010

Link: www.alexandermcqueen.com

It is always sad when someone with sizable talent takes his own life, especially at the young age of 40.  Days before he died, Alexander McQueen’s Twitter updates were growing more and more grief-filled, the source of which  the death of his mother on February 2 which may have catapulted him further into the abyss since the he still mourned the loss of his close friend, Isabella Blow, whose suicide in 2007 affected him deeply.  “‘Suffering from cancer and depression, she died after drinking weedkiller and telling friends she was going out shopping.”

McQueen committed suicide the night before his mother’s funeral.  More here.

He  is known for his flamboyant styles and fashion shows, dressing Lady Gaga in some of her outrageous get-ups and also for designing the outfit Janet Jackson wore during her breast-baring “wardrobe malfunction” in the 2004 Super Bowl half-time show.  Above are some of my toned-down favorites.

…the sense of where you are…

Tags

inspiration, life, Photography, quotes, thoughts

Slow down and enjoy life.  It’s not
only the scenery you miss by
going too fast — you also miss the
sense of where you are going and why.

-Eddie Cantor

Photography: Going Next
by Papou at deviantArt

The Tent by Rumi

Tags

closeness, desert, Photography, poems, poetry, Rumi, tent

Outside, the freezing desert night,
This other night inside grows warm, kindling.
Let the landscape be covered with thorny crust.
We have a soft garden in here.
The continents blasted,
cities and little towns, everything
become a scorched, blackened ball.

Friend, our closeness is this:
anywhere you put your foot, feel me
in the firmness under you.

How is it with this love,
I see your world and not you?

Listen to presences inside poems,
Let them take you where they will.

Follow those private hints,
and never leave the premises.

This is Heaven

Tags

Art, Culture, fashion, heaven, photo, Photography

Death Note: This is Heaven
by Behind Infinity

Skatin’ out the Olympics

Tags

2010 Olympic Games, Davis and White, figure skating, Kim Yu-na, Ladies figure skating, Olympic skating, Olympics, Skating, Vancouver Olympics, Virtue and Moir

I have to admit, I’ve been a skating fan my whole life, right down to learning to do a sit spin and a single toe loop on my roller skates in the early 80s.  One of my earliest memories is pretending to be Dorothy Hamill in my not too sizable living room and knocking over a lamp with my camel positioned leg.  (Luckily no damage was evident and my mom didn’t hear the crash.)

So, as with every Olympics sine childhood, I was glued to the figure skating of the 2010 Olympics, and it was amazing, of course, but in some ways I thought the routines fell a little short in the “WOW” factor.  First off:  these skate grabbing spins and positions that were newly sanctioned by the skating federation and garnered extra points when performed in the routines.   I grew tired of the skate clasping in the pairs competition and was pleasantly surprised when the female announcer commented on the same thing, saying it was a shame they changed up all the beautiful spiral positions (as in above photo of Olympic Champion 2010 Kim Yu-na) by reaching back and grabbing that skate blade–every damn time.  But it gets worse.  This newly implemented scoring system required this position as a spin (as in this Caroline Zhang photo from 2008 on the right).   I find nothing beautiful or breathtaking in this crotch-exposing-skate-grabbing-front-leg-lift, or whatever they call it.  I’ve been informed by a friend of mine that this was a required move for the routines.  Seriously the judges should do some reconsideration, because this pose looks good on no one and is quite ugly, and again, I grew tired of seeing.  Perhaps the only one who could pull it off well was Sasha Cohen with all her extreme extension flexibility in the last Olympics, but she was an exception.

Next: This stress on the jumps, the triple-triples, the quads, axles, etc. do show the athleticism of competitors but somehow take away from the beauty of the sport, which seems to be a minimal factor now.  More points should be given for the fine spins some do than the lack-luster ones from those exceptional jumpers.  I did not see one split jump.  I remember years back Paul Wylie wowing the crowd doing four in a row near the end of his program, which did not garner him a gold medal either, but these jumps were way better than another triple something-something.

And where did the lay-back spins go??  Hmmm?  These are hands down the most beautiful part of ladies figure skating, but only one in the top 6 skaters of the ladies free program, Mirai Nagasu,  did one, a  complete lay-back variation spin with four position changes…and it was beautiful, the high-light of my ladies figure skating night. (At left is Mirai in 2008 with exquisite lay-back!)

All complaints aside, my favorite moment was surprisingly the ice-dance free skate.  Though I was rooting for the Americans Davis and White,  Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir of Canada were phenominal and finally broke the rein of Russian domination in the Ice Dance category.  Gold and Silver Medalist in Ice Dance
Tessa Virtue & Scott Moir, Meryl Davis & Charlie White

Photo source: Getty Images

For I am…

Tags

Anais Nin, inspiration, knowledge, Photography, quotes, thoughts, women, women writers, Writers

If what Proust says is true, that happiness is the absense of fever, then I will never know happiness.  For I am possessed by a fever for knowledge, experience, and creation.

- Anais Nin

Phot0:  Ewa by Hellwoman

The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume Five

Tags

Anais Nin, Anais Nin Diaries, book reviews, Books, diary, literature, publishing, women, women writers, Writers

I’ve taken to reading Anais Nin’s Diary series, one book at a time, and a bit out of order it seems.  After finishing Volume One (1931-1934) last year, jumped to Volume Five, the last of her published diary from 1947 – 1955.  Nin was a master of diary writing, taking a notebook with her wherever she went and recording events in her life, starting at the soft age of 11.  In this Volume, Nin shares how her life is without roots, without a home-town, and instead we find her home the world of her travels and visions, from Acapulco and its languorous beauty, to San Francisco, to New York, which she finds chiseled and toxic, and her revisit to Paris.  It it amazing how she often attracts talented and creative people in her life.  Through all her anguish and happiness I find a woman who knew how to experience life and who, as a writer, could describe it with indelible clarity and wonder.  Here is a piece from Summer 1953:

New York.

A martini makes an ordinary glass shine like a diamond at a coronation, makes an iron bed in Mexico seem like the feather bed of a sultan, a hotel room like the terminus and climax of all voyages, the pinnacle of contentment, the place of repose in an altitude hungered for by all the restless ones.

Create space and order in the house.  It is very important.  It is like the empty room of the Japanese, ideal for the gestations of the imagination and inner visions. Uncluttered. Our clutter interferes with freedom of thought. Air and lightness.

Costume in New York is a white wool coat, a white dress, a white hat with two slim abstract birds in flight. A painter asked me: “Aren’t you afraid the birds will fly away?”

“No, I always fly off first and they follow me.”

Parties.  Exhibitions.

You dream of the evening and of what it will bring at twilight, it is the hour I love best and which always saddens me. You cease the day’s efforts, you recline, you bathe, you dress for some event. I love bridges best of all, planes, taxis, the diaries, the hour of dress, the in-between hours, the only moment when I exist alone.

Volume Five concludes with Anais Nin’s description of her controlled experiment with LSD, which for her reaffirmed in her mind the quality of her creativity in writing and questioned whether one needs drugs to find a heightened awareness of vision and dreams.  You can read this experience from the diary in Anais Nin’s Doors of Perception in this blog’s pages. (See header.)

Another thing I absolutely love about Anais is the fact that when American publishers declined on her work, she bought her own press and published her own books.  Under the Glass Bell was one book, which ended up getting such high praise her books eventually won publication from the very publishers who had refused her.  This gives hope to me and all other writers who are considering self publication.

More on Anais Nin at a later date…

Incense and Earth…

Tags

Anais Nin, Anais Nin Diaries, architecture, churches, inspiration, Lloyd Wright, places, spirituality, Wayfarer's Chapel, Writing

Wayfarers Chapel

We visited Lloyd Wright’s completed chapel at Palos Verdes, near Los Angeles. The sun was pouring into it like a million saints’ halos, the sea was glittering beyond the glass, the redwood trees were beginning to peep into the church. The beauty of glass expanded the spirit, let it loose among the clouds and in nature. What a poetic concept of a church. Not to enclose, in dimness, in stone, in tombs, with votive candles burning, but to free the spirit, to follow the clouds, to glitter with the sea, to grow from the earth richly scented with flowers and leaves. Incense and earth smells, the earth smell stronger.

– from The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume 5, page 103 (Winter 1952-1953)

And then the day came…

Tags

Anais Nin, Art, inspiration, Photography, poems, poetry, quotes

And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk it took
to blossom.

-Anais Nin

Photo source: My exceptionally talented photographer nephew, DivineShadow218 at deviantART.

Walk This Way

Tags

Beatles, Culture, Devaint Art, fashion, miscellaneous, people, Photography, photos

Death Note:  Walk This Way
BehindInfinity at deviant ART

Love the Beatles vibe in this photo.

The Interrupted

Tags

goddess, Photography, poems, poetry, Writing

The goddess poised in her reverie
talking with all the saints and capricious visitors
and with Night that went on and on and on…

Then, as if a breeze melted in
she was interrupted
and the trail of thought did not go on and on…

Some Saint, with dusty wings and
abrasive lines disturbed the peace,
as mourning bells rang on and on…

The goddess waited patiently for
that was her gift, until the silence
maintained itself, and went on and on and on…

Photo by Eliara

Spring’s Desire

Tags

inspiration, nature, Photography, poems, poetry, spring, thoughts, Writing

Warm days approach…the snow is melting, melting away…and we hear the first cries of Canadian geese who are making their way back home…a shrub sprouts a green something at its tips…you cannot see it unless you look closely…in our midst a brightness…a hope…renewal…breath…life…

Photo: A Distant Figure by The Tragic Truth of Me at deviantART

The Poetry of Human Anatomy…

Tags

anatomy, anatomy lab, autobiography, book reviews, Christine Montross, Culture, doctors, inspiration, medical school, women, women writers, Writing

Body of Work
Meditations on Mortality from the Human Anatomy Lab
by Christine Montross

Mary Roach for the NY Times Book Review says:  “The author dissects her own emotions as deftly as she does the organs and ligaments of the cadaver, her pen as revelatory as her scalpel…”

I have to agree.  This memoir by Christine Montross covering her first years in medical school, particularly the time spent in the lab dissecting a human cadaver, who she named Eve, is both fascinating and illuminating.

When I first picked up this book in my hand, engrossed by the cover photo, I thought twice about putting it back on the bookshelf.  I was a bit afraid to read it to be honest.  But then I thought: What exactly are you afraid of?  A description of the insides of a dead body?  Of your own?  Then I wanted…no, I needed to read this book.

Not only did I learn, step by step, slice by delicate slice about human anatomy and its miraculous workings, but Montross swept me into medical history with captivating stories of the first anatomy “labs”, of stolen bodies, rotting and decaying before the hands of medicine’s historic predecessors, of the need to learn, the desire to save lives, or just to help one die with dignity.  She also presents a gripping look at the too often callousness she encountered from veteran doctors who’d already developed the ability to look at people–patients–as just problems to solve and a pile of paperwork to do in a regular work day.

But mainly, Montross’s tenderness shines throughout the text.  She studied poetry before she wrote this book and her literary ability shines in this autobiography.  There were many points in which I laughed, and just as many in which I forced tears away including a recount of her caring for a comatose patient whose infected bandages sickened her until she found drawings from this patient’s two children taped to the rails of his bed where he could see them should he awaken…and another poignant time, in the very last chapter, when she alone in the lab says good-bye to the beautiful corpse she and her classmates dissected:

“My hand comes to rest in hers.  I feel her vessels beneath my fingers, her tendons and bones.

Great teacher, I give you flowers.  I carry your body to the funeral pyre.  When you burn, may every space in you that I have named flame and burst into light.”

Truly poetic.

The “Abandonment” of Centralia

Tags

abandoned cities, abandoned towns, anthracite coal, Centralia, clean coal, coal, coal mining, Culture, Current events, eminent domain, environment, mine fires, mines, Pennsylvania

This town is not completely abandoned…not yet anyway.  And the few holding out may have a deep case of strong will, the will for what may be right.

For those unfamiliar with a town called Centralia in Pennsylvania it has a curious and heartbreaking history.  This once flourishing small town of American was pretty much wiped off the map by an underground mine fire.  This fire began in 1962 when someone set a dump on fire…which was not for some reason put out, and it subsequently spread into the network of coal mine tunnels that ran beneath the town.  Dangerous sinkholes and poisonous gases threatened the residents ability to live in the town. A relocation program was launched by the government, costing over $42 million and seemed to be complete by 1993.  But a few people held out, disregarding the eminent domain order.  And a few hold-outs are still there.  There may be more to this sad loss of a town than meets the eye. 

“Centralians have long believed the government’s demolition of their beloved town in the 1980s was part of a plot to swipe the mineral rights to anthracite coal worth hundreds of millions of dollars,” says this quote from Associated Press Writer Michael Rubinkam in a recent article.  The residents believe that the fire which started all those years ago was perhaps intentionally let go, with the results of today’s abandonment the justified plan for the state to take over the land rights as well as the mineral rights below the land for the potential money involved.  As of right now it is not clear who has the mineral rights.

Centralia - Then and Now

But a last-ditch effort has been launched by the few remaining residents, taking these conspiracy claims to court.  They claim that there are no gases leaking from the fire and they claim to have evidence which proves that it is “almost out” and is no longer a danger to themselves nor their homes.  Court documents state from the Department of Environment Protection  study of 2008 that toxic gases are no longer a problem for residents.  They also found the temperatures have gone down measurably.

These home owners do not want to leave their life-long homes and are making this last plea to be left alone.  “There is no mine fire or other related condition that justifies the taking of their property,” a petition said.   Still,  state officials insist that the fire remains a threat to health.

If this is a massive fraud to perpetuate the taking of homes and land that once was flourishing, all for the mining of a mineral that we should just well enough leave alone, it is a travesty of the human condition and thoughtlessness of greed which surrounds our government systems.  There is no question: something happened here.  A tragic fire started and was perhaps left go…more than 1000 people were relocated and 500 homes were destroyed.  Do these last survivors have a right to the dignified claims to their homes?

Once Centralia ceases to exist, the state could sell the mineral rights to a coal company and thus produce even more senseless strip mining in this country, the dangers of which are staggering.  With all this “clean coal” propaganda floating about, a bunch of bullshit if you ask me, Centralia could become “one of the most productive strip mine operations in the country.”  I’m praying  for the last residents. I hope they win.

Source: Centralia Residents Claim ‘Fraud’ -Times Leader- Michael Rubinkam, AP – 3/10/2010

The end came easy for most of us…

Tags

American Flag, Culture, Current events, government, health care, Photography, poems, poetry, questions, Socialism, thoughts, Washington

The Man from Washington

by James Welch

The end came easy for most of us.
Packed away in our crude beginnings
in some far corner of a flat world,
we didn’t expect much more
than firewood and buffalo robes
to keep us warm.  The man came down,
a slouching dwarf with rainwater eyes,
and spoke to us.   He promised
that life would go on as usual,
that treaties would be signed, and everyone–
man, woman and child–would be inoculated
against a world in which we had no part,
a world of money, promise and disease.

Last night our country’s legislation took a historic step…but I question what this exactly means.  Of course I want health care for everyone and am appalled at an insurance system gone a muck with greed……..but what have we sacrificed to get this?   Have we agreed to take the first steps to socialized medicine in our country and if so, is this the first step to a socialist form of government?    What should we give to government to take over next?

Photo sources: Washington by Dennevis at deviantART
Question Mark   by Soffe at deviantART

Silence is not an option…

Tags

activism, activists, Appalachia, Appalachia Mountains, clean coal, coal, coal mining, environment, Maria Gunnoe, mountain top mining, people, strip mining, West Virginia, women

A billboard on roadside near Charleston, West Virginia reads:  Yes, Coal. Clean Carbon Neutral Coal.  But in the yard of a petite 41 year old woman you can see a sign that says: Yes, Wind.

For 12 years, West Virginian Maria Gunnoe has been waging her own battle to end mountain removal, “a process by which the tops of mountains are blasted off so miners can get at seams of coal” that cannot be reached through underground mining.  In this process, the coal companies dump tons of rock and vegetation into valleys near by, which often destroy streams, animal and water habitats and create violations of the Clean Water Act.

“More than 500 peaks across Appalachia have been seared off so far.“   The companies claim reclamation to the land, replanting indigenous trees which seldom root and usually die off, leaving what was once a majestic line of mountain a mere hill of green grasses and undergrowth as a result of their “fix the damage” efforts (my words here).

Maria Gunnoe, a granddaughter of a Cherokee, is a brave soul, one of the few residents of Boone County, West Virginia who refuse to give up despite the ravaged land literally in her back yard.  Her activism and outspokenness awarded her the 2009 Goldman Environmental Prize.  All for not keeping silent; for not shutting up.  And this despite death threats, sand in the gas tank of her truck, the deaths of family pets, and strange gun shots behind her house right before she was to testify before a court.  The threats come from local mine workers, whose only form of income is the work done on the mountains in the area.”I’d like to think they were better shots if they meant to hit me,” she says wryly. “They’re trying to scare me.”  Still, for a few years she wore a bullet proof vest when she ventured outside.  I cannot imagine.

Her activism started years before this with a long-smoldering underground mine fire that came to the surface near her home town of Bob White.  She joined OVEC, Ohio Valley Environmental Coalition. She learned more.  When Mountain top mining came to Bob White in 2000, she set out to learn what it was all about.  The rumble of explosions on the mountain behind her house created layers of gray dust which coated everything in her house and caused nose bleeds.  Then her crystal clear water started to corrode the faucets and had “this foul smell.“  After the familiar mountain peak disappeared, raging flood waters gouged her land, creating a 70 wide trench across her property and washing out two bridges that let to her home. “We had to hike in for seven years,” she recounts. Still, none of this was blamed on the mining but officials said that extreme rainfall was the cause.

This further fueled her activism as she continued to badger regulatory agencies to enforce inspections, recheck dumping permits.  The Obama administration has promised to review changes the Bush administration made to the Clean Water Act–changes that allowed coal companies to dump mine debris into streams.  Valley fill permits are no longer being rubber-stamped by the Army Corps of Engineers and EPA.

Meanwhile, Maria Gunnoe gets in her Jeep and keeps patrol of her mountains.  Despite a now camouflage colored house and a chain link fence around her yard, she stays on.  Her first grandchild is due soon, and her son, who is in the Navy and will be on duty, is building a new home for his family on the land his mother refuses to abandon.  Despite the threats, she’s taught her children to stand up for what is right, to stand up for what you believe in, to take on the “big” companies, and to not let the bastards drag you down.

For Gunnoe, silence is certainly not an option.

Maria, Hobit Mine

Read  Maria Gunnoe’s fascinating story online at More.com or pick up a hard copy of the article in More magazine, April 2010 on store shelves now.  Maria Gunnoe’s Coal Country Crusade by Tamara Jones.  All italic quotes above are from this source.

Feel the chill…

Tags

book reviews, Books, chills, creepy, fiction, horror fiction, literature, movies, scary stories, short story, short story collections, Stephen King, terror, Trilogy of Terror, Writing

This week’s read for Books Read in 2010 is a collection of shorts called American Fantastic Tales, Terror and the Uncanny from the 1940s to Now, edited by Peter Straub.  This a great collection to give the chills…and with tales from classic authors like Ray Bradbury, John Cheever and Shirley Jackson it is quite a ride.  Though I found some of the stories too dull to find out what the creepy chill was all about, some sent me over the edge.  A few I’d read previously, like Shirley Jackson’s Daemon Lover, and an especially strange story, which over the years I’ve always called “the rabbit story” call Stone Animals by Kelly Link. (this story has nothing to do with Easter, I warn you, but plenty to do with haunted houses and haunted rabbits).

One of the best surprises, and perhaps the scariest short story ever written was Prey by Richard Matheson.  I remember this story made into a short horror film for a TV series called Trilogy of Terror in 1975.  It is one of those movies that you see as a kid and always remember.  It starred Karen Black (a cool horror actress around that time, boy could she scream!) as the main character, Amelia, who buys a creepy looking Zuni Warrior doll as a gift for her boyfriend.  It is said that the spirit of the warrior is locked in the doll.  You can probably guess what happens–yeah, it comes to life and tries to kill her.  I actually found the film on YouTube but I cannot get the link to work, so if you’re interested just type in Trilogy of Terror on You Tube home page.  It will come up in 3 short parts.  It seems a bit cheesy now, but when you’re a little kid, you know?…. The written story was better and I even jumped when the phone rang as I was reading it…

Other best stories to note:   Jack Finney’s I’m Scared,  Joyce Carol Oates’ Family,  The General Who Is Dead by Jeff Vandermeer,  Nocturne by Thomas Tessier,   and my favorite short story by Stephen King called  That Feeling, You Can Only Say What It Is in French. (This is a suspenseful story that is obviously about deja vu, and after reading it the first time in King’s collection I thought it was so well written I seriously wondered if any writer could top it.  I still wonder.)

If you feel the need for a chill…pick this one up or check your local library.

We are mad and curious…

Tags

Alice, Alice in Wonderland, Art, Mad Hatter, Photography

We're All Mad Here

Curiouser and Curiouser

Images by Behind Infinity at deviantART

Ah, fairytales…

Tags

fairy tales, fashion, Photography

Forgotten Fairytales

Photography by Zemotion

Moments…

Tags

Art, Photography

Images: A Moment Suspended in Time
Kontroll-Budapest
Merry-G0-Round in Paris

All by: angelreich at deviantART

Season changes…

Tags

Photography

Seasonscape  by alexiuss

Cross

Tags

cross, crosses, Easter, Easter Pie, inspiration, Photography, religion, spirit, spirituality

Cross

by Cobaltglass

This weekend promises to be a lovely one weather wise, and since it is Easter we deserve as much. It is wonderful to feel the sun on these chilled winter bones.  This weekend we take the time to wonder in the glory, to remember what an ultimate sacrifice is, and to reclaim our soul’s liberation.  Whether you are a believer or not, the story is the same;  to rise above it all and to embrace the sense of oneness with humanity.  Yesterday we took a few moments with the family and made Easter Pie, an Italian tradition. My mother-in-law is so patient and loving, encouraging growth in the younger ones through simple rituals.  I placed a cross formed of the dough on top of my pie…to remember this moment, to remember our Lord’s time.

A Peaceful, Love-filled, weekend to all…

Twilight: The Graphic Novel

Tags

teen fiction, teens, twilight, Twilight series, Twilight: The Graphic Novel

Twilight The Graphic Novel Volume 1 “will challenge the mental image some may have of the characters.”  More here.

More Dead in West Virginia

Tags

Appalachia Moutain mines, coal, coal mine, coal mine explosion, coal mining, Culture, Current events, Maria Gunnoe, West Virginia coal mining

If you know me and follow this blog, you know I have a strong dislike for coal mining, mining technology, and the myth of “clean coal” that is shoved down our throats regularly.  The saddest news today comes yet again from West Virginia where 25 mine workers lost their lives in an explosion in an underground mine funded by the prolific WV company Massey.  This company has a history of violations for lack of proper ventilation of methane gas in 1000 foot deep mines.  Since 1998 there have been three deaths linked with this mining company.  At what price are we going to stay in the dark coal ages?  How many people should we sacrifice…how much land?  I do understand that people have to make a living, and may have no other choice but to work in mines for income.  My grandfather did this for many, many years, and suffered terribly at the end of his life with black lung, a result of inhaling coal dust all those years.   Though mining is much safer now than it was back then, I’d truly like to believe this, I still wonder what price  we will be paying in other ways for our lack of finding better energy solutions.

Two weeks ago I posted a story about Maria Gunnoe, a woman fighting the very same Massey company for their regular destruction of the Appalachia Mountains near and around her home.  I’m sure she is on her toes with this event, drawing more attention to what is adding up to be one of the worst mining accidents in many years.  Four men are still unaccounted for.  There is a slim hope they have survived, in an air-tight chamber somewhere deep in belly of this earth.

A few years ago, with my daughter’s class, we visited a local mine which is now a huge anthracite museum.  This was around the time China had that devastating accident a few years back that killed 350 miners.  Today, China has to deal with another dark ages accident, with 150 or so workers missing in another mine collapse from flooding.  In any case, this field trip broke this miner’s granddaughter’s heart.  To go down so deep into the darkness, to see the wax figures of these men working, to see the donkeys that pulled the carts of coal who never say daylight, ever, but lived their entire animal lives underground, and to see the young boys who held the door controls, or sorted the coal…truly a sad way to make a living all those years ago.  I know times have changed….it still haunts me.

I hope the families of these poor hard-working men find peace…Our Easter season prayers go out to them all…and I hope Massey and any other coal company will re-evaluate their regulations and make good changes for all….and for this planet.

But mostly, I hope we find better solutions for energy…this is not the answer…coal is never “clean”….and today it is truly deadly.

Raising martyred plants from their shrouds…

Tags

inspiration, Photography, poems, poetry, Rumi, spirit, spirituality, spring

SPRING IS CHRIST

by Rumi

Everyone has eaten and fallen asleep.  The house is empty.
We walk out to the garden to let the apple meet the peach,
to carry messages between rose and jasmine.

Spring is Christ,
raising martyred plants from their shrouds.
Their mouths open in gratitude, wanting to be kissed.
The glow of the rose and the tulip means a lamp
is inside.  A leaf trembles.  I tremble
in the wind-beauty like silk from Turkestan.
The censer fans into flame.

The wind is the Holy Spirit.
The trees are Mary.
Watch how husband and wife play subtle games with their hands.
Cloudy pearls from Aden are thrown across the lovers,
as is the marriage custom.

The scent of Joseph’s shirt comes to Jacob.
A red carnelian of Yemeni laughter is heard
by Muhammad in Mecca.

We talk about this and that.  There’s no rest
except on these branching moments.

Photo: Spring by Myostis at deviantART.

Book of the Week: Shutter Island

Tags

book reviews, Books, fiction, Film, movies, Shutter Island

Read this one in four days…couldn’t put it down.  No, I haven’t seen the movie yet.  The book had some slow spots now and then, delved into the character completely…but I became a bit suspicious around the middle of the book…I was sort of thinking …could he be?  could this be….?  I won’t give away the ending.  Hope to see this one soon…DiCaprio and Scorsese…a promising combo I’d say.

“Clash” this Weekend

Tags

Clash of the Titans, classic movie, fantasy, Film, movie remakes, movie reviews, movies, new movies

So we took in Clash of the Titan this weekend, the 2010 remake of that 1981 cult classic, although I can hardly call this one a remake.  It had quite a bit of originality in the script to make it stand on its own.  Of course, you have to like a lot of “clash”ing for there are a tremendous amount of battle scenes.  Perseus, played by Sam Worthington (Avatar), does well as the young hero, a demi-god, who rejects this new found knowledge and decides to win this battle as a mere mortal man.  The movies does follow the original premise, the journey to the Three Blind Witches who prophesy, the visit into the depths of hell across the river Styx to visit Medusa (my favorite part) and see if she donate her deadly head to the cause.  This scene could have been, dare I say it, a little bit longer, with a bit more prolonged suspense before Perseus achieves his goal…or perhaps because I knew the story it wasn’t as scary to me as I would have liked.  In any case, it was two hours of non-stop entertainment.

Thumbs up from the entire Continuum family, including one teen who did not even want to see it.  That says something I think.   If I could critique one thing that the writers changed that us women will miss is the lack of  love story…Perseus doesn’t even know who Andromeda is before going on this quest to save her; instead he agrees to seek revenge…This I missed…the quest to save one’s love…the root of all heroic classic adventure tales. (some may argue that Io fits the bill here for the romance, but it wasn’t quite the same).

The movie leaves a grand opening for future flicks, a series in thought, but I don’t see this happening.  Hades will be back…but I don’t think we were scared enough to care.  But this one is worth a look if you are into action/adventure/heroic battle fantasy.

Flowers

Tags

Art, digital photography, flower photography, flowers, macro photography, Photography, Sony Cyber-shot, spring

What can I say?  I took the Sony Cyber-shot everywhere this weekend.  Here are some results.

My Top Songs

Tags

albums, Beatles, Culture, favorite songs, Goo Goo Dolls, Music, Phil Collins, Pink Floyd, Tears For Fears, top songs, U2

I was ruminating about my top songs of all time…it was hard to narrow it down to ten since I usually like to note my songs by era, or artist, say; top songs of the 80s or my favorite songs by the Beatles, etc.  This allows one to include all the favs…but for today I want to share the following that have stuck with me (a few since childhood) and continue to make me crank up the stereo when I’m in my car…heard a couple this weekend.

In The Air Tonight  by Phil Collins

One   by U2

Iris   by the Goo Goo Dolls

Shout    by  Tears for Fears

Eleanor Rigby   by  the Beatles

Another Brick in the Wall  -  Pink Floyd

Magic Man    by   Heart

Dream On   by Aerosmith

Crystal  Blue  Persuasion   by Tommy James and the Shondells

Out In The Country   by  Three Dog Night

The Best 80s Songs

Tags

80s, 80s hits, 80s music, A Flock of Seagulls, Culture Club, Michael Jackson, Music, music history, pop music, songs, Tears For Fears, U2

These are top songs of the 80s for me and the list is completely subjective so let this 80s girl have her peace…hope you enjoy.

I Ran  by  A Flock of Seagulls …Perhaps the best 80s song of all time just for the sheer 80s sound. Oh, and the hair, who could forget the spiked hair in the video.

Relax    by Frankie Goes to Hollywood ….Perhaps the second best 80s song of all time.  Just play it: I dare you not to dance (or at least do one of those 80s style head bobs to the beat!)

Pride, In the Name of Love    by U2…..hands down my favorite group of all time. This song, a tribute to Martin Luther King Jr. is timeless …and full of the 80s vibe.

Harden My Heart   by Quarterflash ….What ever happened to them? This lead singer could belt it out, with her voice, as well as on the sax!  I love singing this song.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World   by Tears for Fears ….Since Shout is on my all time top songs list, this one we’ll put on the 80s list.  They are by far one of the best groups of the 80s. This video is great by the way.

Don’t You Forget About Me   by Simple Minds …..the only group to hit this list twice for me.  This song is the theme for the classic 80s movie  the Breakfast Club starring Molly Ringwald as well as other wonderful brat pack actors.  Love this song…and love the movie more!

You Got Lucky   by Tom Petty …..probably should be on an 80s rock list…but I just love, love the groove of this blusey 80s hit from 1982.  1982 people!  High school…dare I reveal my age????????

Rock with You   by Michael Jackson ….One of his best songs ever.  His long note at the end makes it worth it all. Miss the 80s Michael.

Hold Me Now   by the Thompson Twins ….Ah, another of my favorite groups of the 80s. I don’t believe twins were involved, however this song is still one of the best for me. Never stopped loving it.

Alive and Kicking  by Simple Minds ….big hit from their album, Once Upon a Time, which is currently in my CD case for whenever I hit the road.  Remember: 80s girl! (see pic below to jog dead memory cells)

Take on Me   by  Ah Ha ….this is perhaps the best video of the 80s and started an interesting trend in film.  A few years ago when my girls were big Jonas Brothers fans the brothers sang this song during a special on TV. The girls couldn’t believe that I knew the words…then I gave my daughter the album.  She still has it. I love that they love some of my music.

Time    by  Culture Club ….Boy George I think had (and still has I’m sure) one of the best singing voices of the 80s. This song proves it.  I actually won tickets to a concert in Philly back then.  It was pretty cool.

Culture Club

Have an 80s fav to share…leave a comment.

Spring Break!!

reverberations by Darren Waterston

The Wit Continuum must take a break…

Feel free to browse….

More  later….

Remember

Tags

inspiration, Joy Harjo, Photography, poems, poetry, spirituality, women, women in photography, women poets, women writers, Writing

Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star’s stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun’s birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggles
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother’s, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life, also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them.  They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe.
Remember you are all people and all people are you.
Remember you are this universe and this
universe is you.
Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.

-poem by Joy Harjo

-photography: Seval Tokay

Rain

Tags

Art, flower photography, flowers, macro photography, May, paintings, Photography, poems, poetry, rain, thoughts, women, women writers

Ah, so it rains on this May day. What more can I say. I’ll give you a poem if you have time…

The May Mornings

May mornings wear
light cashmere shawls of quietness,
brush back waterfalls of
burnished silk from
clear and round brows.
When we see them approaching
over lawns, trailing
dewdark shadows and footprints,
we remember, ah,
yes, the May mornings,
how could we have forgotten,
what solace it would have been
to think of them,
what solace
it would be in the bitter violence
of fire then ice again we
apprehend – but
it seems the May mornings
are a presence known
only as they pass
lightstepped, seriously smiling, bearing
each leaflined basket
of wakening flowers.

Poem: The May Mornings (1982) by Denise Levertov
Painting above: Rain 2 by Zeldis
Photography: by The Wit Continuum

Realism Magic

Tags

Art, artists, Casey Baugh, painting, portraits, realism art, women

The artwork of Casey Baugh takes realism to a magical level. I especially love his portraits of women.

The artist:

Casey Baugh Fine Art

Summer is coming…

The Wit Continuum will be back with promising summer posts to the blogosphere featuring more on beauty and creativity in the art world, planetary paranormal energy extractions, the myths and secrets of women, and anything she can find in between….

peace….

Summer Intermission

Tags

Art, blogging, blogs, digital art, drawing, drawings, graphic art, graphic illustration, Illustration

This Wit will return a little later to the blogosphere. Thanks to everyone for all your support. I truly appreciate it.

Featured here are some digital works I love…

More later…

The Story of Demeter and Persephone

Tags

Art, Books, classic mythology, daughters, Demeter, fairy tales, fantasy, fantasy art, fiction, graphic art, Hades, literature, mothers, mythology, myths, Persephone, stories, Tales, women

The maiden, Persephone, daughter of the Earth Goddess, Demeter, is out picking flowers in a meadow when the earth opens up and out charges Hades, God of the Underworld.  He scoops Persephone up, and the Lord of the Dead (not the devil or Satan mind you) plunges back down into the Underworld.  When Persephone is late, Demeter goes out searching but can find her lovely daughter nowhere.  Demeter, the great Goddess of grain, harvest, and fertility lights a torch and scours the earth into the night. After nine futile days of searching, she comes across an old lady, the quintessential Hecate, a crone of great knowledge of the earth and its going-ons (the harbinger of bad news and good) and the Goddess of the dark moon, the crossroads of life.  She explains to Demeter that Persephone has been abducted.

Demeter grows full of rage and gives up her divine earthly duties, allowing the crops to dry up and wither, the earth to become a cold wasteland.  She disguises herself as and old woman and travels to the town of Eleusis where she wallows in despair.  Zeus, the great God, notices this and tries to talk some sense into Demeter.  Hades will make a nice son-in-law, he says.  She needs to lighten up and let the crops grow.  Demeter will not budge.

The earth becomes so desolate and wasted Zeus has no choice but to consult with his dark brother of the underworld and orders Hades to give up Persephone.  Persephone prepares to leave, but Hades loves her and does not want to give her up completely. They have one last meal together, and the Lord of the Dead slips some enchanted pomegranate seeds into Persephone’s food.  She swallows the seeds, which ensures her return to Hades domain for a third of each year.

Persephone and her mother are reunited on the first day of Spring.  Demeter can sense some changes in her young daughter.  Demeter is not happy when she learns about the pomegranate seeds, but Persephone insists she did not know and that she does not mind in any case to go back to see Hades.  Demeter stops her mourning and allows the earth to flourish again. After all, her daughter is back. Not the same innocent girl who picked flowers without a care in the world, but a woman transfigured by her experience.

This is my favorite mythological story about a mother and daughter reunion, about a daughter’s growth and change, about the seasons of the earth as they were formed by the mythic gods.

Story is inspired by an excerpt of Traveling with Pomegranates by Sue Monk Kidd

Images:
Persephone by Blackeri
Hades and Persephone by Sandara

Day’s Ending by Sara Teasdale

Tags

inspiration, literature, love, poems, poetry, Sara Teasdale, spirituality, women, women writers, Writers

I have to make Sara my poet of the week. In a way unbeknownst to my literary agenda, I came across some of her works and sat with apt fascination and attention.  Finding words that speak to you in way you cannot describe is one thing a writer loves.  The poems I came across dealt with spring, and the month of June–how appropriate. So I hope you enjoy my sharing this week.  Today  is  Day’s Ending by Sara Teasdale.  Enjoy…

It was not long that I lived there
But I became a woman
Under those vehement stars,
For it was there I heard
For the first time my spirit
Forging an iron rule for me,
As though with slow cold hammers
Beating out word by word:

“Only yourself can heal you,
Only yourself can lead you,
The road is heavy going
And ends where no man knows;
Take love when love is given,
But never think to find it
A sure escape from sorrow
Or a complete repose.”

Images: Sara Teasdale circa 1913 (Love this pic!) and
Woman on Road by Fertile Ground Vision Cards

More Sara…

Tags

beauty, inspiration, life, literature, love, Photography, poems, poetry, quotes, Sara Teasdale, wisdom, women, women writers, Writers

Sharing more of Sara Teasdale:

Sara Teasdale possessed both intuition and insight in addition to imagination and an exquisite lyric gift. She indeed worked “in the changeless feelings of men,” more particularly of women, and her theme was love, in all its facets of beauty, comfort, and tragedy. Her poetry is personal, drawn from her own deepest emotional experience, and it evokes an almost immediate empathetic response.  “I try to say what moves me,” she said once in an interview.  “I never care to surprise my reader.” Thus, as might be expected from this statement, simplicity is the hallmark of her poetry, but–caveat lector!–”simplicity, the greatest of all arts,” is not the same thing as simple-mindedness.  The sophisticated reader quickly discovers that Teasdale simplicity can be highly deceptive.

Wisdom

by Sara Teasdale

When I have ceased to break my wings
against the faultiness of things,
and learned that compromises wait
behind each hardly opened gate,
when I can look Life in the eyes,
grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
and taken….in exchange….my youth.

The Wine

I cannot die, who drank delight
From the cup of the crescent moon,
And hungrily as men eat bread,
Loved the scented nights of June.

The rest may die–but is there not
Some shining strange escape for me
Who sought in Beauty the bright wine
Of immortality?

Excerpt above about Teasdale from Imaginary Gardens by Rosemary Sprague.
Photography: Monika Stojak

Pissed off Sara Teasdale…

Tags

Art, History, literature, musings, Photography, poems, Poet's Lives, poetry, Sara Teasdale, Vachel Lindsay, women, women writers, Writers

So in reading this lovely little bio of Sara we find a little girl, born into privilege, a child with servants and a huge bank account to go with them.  She grows up, educated, private schools, etc.  and slightly ill most of her sheltered life, but always the poet. Finally, as she matures she finds her gift recognized by teachers, and her parents are elated. With encouragement of her teachers and the first real friends this shy girl has made Sara dives into writing, which centers most of the rest of her life. Now, here’s this homely grown-up girl (she is called un-pretty, but she has a certain quality of beauty I think), and she has published some volumes of poetry, most to immense reviews.  Her first volume is published in 1907.  By 1913, she is well-established in the artist’s field and a friend wants Sara to meet a man, one who admires her through her work, and is already smitten. Of all people Sara is introduced to Vachel Lindsay.  He calls upon her at her parents house, “he is well on his way to falling in love with her.  He is a strong, vital man, with a delightful sense of humor, and an energetic enthusiasm .  He rushes into Sara’s life like a passionate tempest, courting her with long, ardent letters, bewildering, and, for a time, almost bemusing her.“
Well, their love affair goes on.  And after a time, Vachel, a totally free dude, tells Sara of his deep love for her, excited he is by the torrent of his pursuit, and he wants to marry her.

Sara considers this for a time.

But we must understand Vachel.  He’s a guy totally opposite, except for being a poet, than our fair Sara.  He has broken ties with his family, travels a lot finding inspiration for his poems. He does odd jobs to get by. Obligation is a hinge to his freedom, and marriage is an obligation to the first degree.  Sara realizes this.  But he seems not to, still insists that they should marry.  (Getting into her virginal pants must have been quite an engaging prospect, or perhaps they shared a poetic bond beyond the stars, for let’s face it, Vachel must not have had a problem with the ladies…)  In any case, her parents disapproved. He was certainly not rich enough, certainly not capable of providing the life she was used to.  Sara, too, knew the bond would be disastrous for both of them. She had no longing to travel, and this would bind Vachel’s wings, and possibly his inspiration, his artistic life completely.

Sara declines his proposal, and instead agrees to marry the very settled businessman named Ernst Filsinger. (His name even sounds settled to me!)  Ernst for his part, shares Sara’s love for poetry and the arts, is devoted to her and her work, and supports her completely. But things fizzle quicker than expected for Sara. Eventually, their differences add up, and Sara does a brave thing for the time and goes to Reno and gets a divorce.

I just have to think that maybe she missed the boat with Vachel.  Perhaps she would have found a soul-seeking passion that would have broken the confines she set on herself being a home-body, working diligently on her own, staying away from the social life, and the traveling writer’s life.  She sort-of became a recluse to herself, an enigma that made others wonder about and admire.  So much of what she wrote is lovely, nice, precise, perfectly rhymed and timed, elegant.  She seems to shine with pleasure and happiness even with her expression of heartbreak.  I just wonder if she ever got pissed off!!??  Thus, the reason for this post, which has become longer than I thought.  So, I’ve taken the liberty of including one of my favorites of Sara Teasdale’s poems with substantial eloquent adjectives added. The following is my version of “What Do I Care?”

*******************************************

“What Do I Fucking Care?”

What do I fucking care, in the dreams and the languor of sucking spring,
That my damned songs do not friggin’ show me at all?
For they are a bull-shit fragrance, and I am a bloody flint and a fucking fire!
I am the hell bent answer, they are only the lousy call.

But what do I fucking care, for sap-sucking love will be over all too soon,
Let my stilted heart have its say, damn-it! and my freakin’ mind stand idly by,
For my mind is fucking proud and fucking strong enough to be silent,
It is my love-stained broken heart that makes my fucked-up songs,  not I.

Poem image:  Headlight Black Demon III by Monika Stojak

Marion Cotillard Ignites Vogue

Tags

actresses, black dresses, Culture, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, hollywood, Marion Cotillard, movies, Nine, people, Photography, Vogue, Vogue Magazine, women

Just received the July Vogue magazine with Marion Cotillard gracing the cover, breathtaking as always.  Watched Nine the other night and was sadly disappointed in the film, but not with Marion.  Vogue has made a great choice for this month’s feature.

“She’s a rare kind of star, only the third actress who’s ever won the Oscar in a foreign-language film, for her tour de force as Edith Piaf in 2007′s La Vie en Rose.  The “little sparrow” was four feet eight, drug-addled, fragile, a wreck by adulthood and dead at 47. Cotillard at 34 is long-limbed and luminous. She’s got the flawless skin, transparent eyes, and turned-up nose of a child, a generous, connected energy, and a steely capacity for concentration.”  More here…

Photography by: Mario Testino
Article excerpt: Vogue/July-2010 Portrait of the Artist by Joan Juliet Buck

A Day in The Life

Tags

aution, Beatles, Culture, John Lennon, lyrics, Music, Paul McCartney, poetry, song lyrics, songs, Sothby's, The Beatles

John Lennon’s  A Day in The Life fetched $1.2m.

The double-sided sheet of paper with notes written in felt marker and blue ink was sold at Sotheby’s in New York.

The lyric sheet also contains some corrections and other notes penned in red ink.

The song – co-written with Paul McCartney – is the final track on the band’s 1967 Sgt Pepper album.

The buyer was an anonymous American telephone bidder. The lyric sheet had previously belonged to Mal Evans, the Beatles’ road manager.

According to the auction house, the previous record for a sale of Beatles lyrics was All You Need Is Love, which fetched $1m (£655,450) in 2005.

Rolling Stone magazine listed A Day in the Life at number 26 in its compilation of the greatest 500 songs of all time. The album went on to win four Grammy awards.
More here…

Ah….my favorite Beatles’ song.

Article: BBC news

Rainbows: The Secret History

Tags

deities, earth, goddess, Golden Age, heaven, History, myths, rainbow, rainbow colors, rainbows, spirituality, stories, women

Myths often associate the rainbow with the dream-time or Golden Age when earth and heaven were in easy communication with one another. Deities, spirits, and mortals might pass back and forth on the rainbow bridge, which was also the axis mundi, or ladder of heaven, or necklace of the Great Mother who ruled the Golden Age. The Pot of Gold at the rainbow’s end was another form of the Celts’ Holy Grail, a womb symbol related to the pots where Mother Moon kept the souls of the dead in her western paradise.

The rainbow’s seven colors represented the seven celestial spheres and the rainbow-hued veils of Maya, the Goddess working behind the veils to manifest the material world in its many-colored complexity.

The rainbow’s selectivity is a common motif. The glowing bridge was a broad way for the chosen, a razor edge for the wicked. The Katha Upanishad said the rainbow bridge to heaven is as difficult to traverse as the edge of a razor.  The Persians said the same of their Kinvad rainbow bridge: “For the just is is nine lance-lengths wide, for the ungodly it is as narrow as the edge of a razor. The Kinvad bridge is at the ‘Center’…the bridge connects earth and heaven is at the center”.  Christian tradition spoke of the same selective bridge of heaven: “Narrow is the way…and few there be that find it.” (Matthew 7:14)

The Japanese said the rainbow is “the road of the gods and the bridge between sky and earth.”

Text source: Encyclopedia of Women’s Myths and Secrets

Peace….

Celebrating another 4th at the Uncle’s…

Tags

4th of July, family, fireworks, Independence Day, July 4th, parties, viking helmets

We’ll be hitting Uncle’s party around 2 pm on the July fourth, and won’t see the road until late that night after the huge assortment of fireworks has hit the air, and come down precariously close to where we’ll be sitting.  Viking helmet, anyone?  Please remember to eat, drink, and be safe this weekend as we celebrate the country’s birthday!!

Happy Independence Day to all from the Wit Continuum.

Peace…

Eclipse exlipses the others…

Tags

Eclipse, Film, movies, Team Jacob, twilight, Twilight series, vampires

Ah Bella, decisions, decisions….Two thumbs up from the Wit Continuum teen staff members who went to see this film on the first day. (Some ventured out at midnight, and a few at three a.m. showing….true fans!)  Best scene…the newly born vamps emerging from the lake in super creepy fashion…

And…there was lots of Jacob…a plus for us Wits here since we are Team Jacob.

My Favorite Mistake

Tags

inspiration, miscellaneous, mistakes, mothers, musings, plinky, thoughts

Sweet-Talking-Woman

Listening to my mother…inevitably, she was always right (even when it pissed me off).

Plinky…something new…

Tags

blogging, blogs, horizons, hot days, miscellaneous, peach tea, plinky, summer, thoughts

Liking this new idea….Plinky.com.  You get a new prompt each week to write about or comment on and can even ship it right over to your blog for a quick post.  Gets your brain thinking too….always looking for something new, that’s me….

With July 4th over there is sort of a “sigh” flowing through the household…this day was always considered the “half the summer is over” point, although it is hardly true. Still, there is that element of a something finished and we have to look to new horizons. Strange how we jet on, hardly enjoying the moments at hand. I may be looking into this too much. I certainly don’t feel the end of anything by a long shot, but the sense of it still flows around me.  Any one know what I mean?

In any case…another long, hot summer vacation day to enjoy today…. iced oolong peach tea anyone?

Peace…

Sun Goddesses Enter Here…

Tags

Art, Culture, heat wave, History, inspiration, Mary, prayer, spirituality, stories, sun, sun goddess

Being that we are just a few degrees short of baking with our 100 degree heat wave here at The Wit, I thought I’d share a few thoughts on the cause of all this bakage, our glorious sun, and share this amazing piece of art by Robin Nash, called Sun Goddess.

SUN GODDESS

Though western iconigraphy usually called the sun male and the moon female, archaic Oriental tradition spoke of a female sun. Japanese ruling clans traced their descent from a supreme Sun Goddess, Omikami Amaterasu.  Japanese tribes in history were ruled by a queen named Himiko, Daughter of the Sun.

The Hindu Great Mother took the form of the sun as the Goddess Aditi, mother of the twelve zodiacs, spirits who would “reveal their light at Doomsday.”  It is said that the sun was the “garment” of the Great Goddess: “The sun, the most glorious symbol in the physical world, is the mayik vesture of Her who is ‘clothed with the sun’”.  The same Goddess, identified with Mary, appeared in the Gospels as the “woman clothed with the sun” (Revelations 12:1).

Tantric Buddism recognized a precusor of the Middle-Eastern Mari, or Mary, as the sun. her monks greeted her at dawn as “the glorious one, the sun of happiness…
I salute you,
O Goddess Marici!
Bless me, and fulfill my desires.
Protect me, O Goddess,
from all the eight fears.”

Happy sun worshiping….peace….

Text reference: The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets.

Of Mirrors and myth…

Tags

bad luck, Buddist, classic mythology, Culture, death, Echo, History, mirrors, miscellaneous, mythology, myths, Narcissus, Plotinus, reflections, Soul, spirituality, Tales, the dead, thoughts, vampires, Writing

“The ancients attributed mystic powers to any reflective surface, solid or liquid, because the reflection was considered part of the soul.”  It was taboo to disturb waters on which a person’s reflection was present.  Shattering their image was considered damaging to the soul.  Thus, our breaking a mirror equals seven years of bad luck, a creepy notion I believed in as a child but since have put aside.

Narcissus, the fabled self-love obsessed nymph, has been misinterpreted to be a dude who could not get enough of his own reflection, and so pined away and died (or did he fall in and drown?).  Echo was the Goddess of death-by-water, who lay in wait to seize one’s reflection-soul, a belief among the Africans and Melanesians.

It is also believed that a soul can become trapped in a mirror.  The tale of Dionysus repeated by gypsy legend tells the story of how he became trapped in a mirror by a witch named Mara, the same as the Hindu death-spirit Mara.  Among the Slavic gypsies, Mara or Mora was a destroying Fate-Goddess who rode the night winds and “drank the blood of men.”

Which leads us to vampirism.  “Mirrors were connected with death in many Christian superstitions.  Demons, werewolves, vampires, and such “soulless” creatures show no reflection in a mirror.  Many people still turn mirrors to the wall after a death in the house, in the belief that mirrors trap the souls of the living or detain the souls of the dead on their journey.  Some say one who looks in a mirror in a house of death will see not his own face but the face of the deceased.  Pope John xxII had an inordinate fear of mirrors; he claimed wizards sent devils to attack him through mirrors.”

The esoteric meaning of the mirror was explained long ago by Plotinus:  “Matter serves as a mirror upon which the Universal Soul projects the images or reflections of its creations, and thus gives rise to the phenomena of the sensible universe.”

Buddist aphorism:  “All existence is like a reflection in a mirror, without substance, only a phantom of the mind. When the finite mind acts, then all kinds of things cease.”   (In other words:  the world exists for only those who live and perceive it.)

Mmmmm….does that mean that if no intelligent beings perceived it, the universe would not exist at all?

I may have to reflect on this for a while…

Peace…

Text source: Book of Myths and Mystery

The stars come up spinning…

Tags

Art, inspiration, lips, literature, miscellaneous, Music, Photography, poems, poetry, Rumi, singing, spirituality, stars, Writing

The stars come up spinning
every night, bewildered in love.
They’d grow tired
with that revolving, if they weren’t .
They’d say,
“How long do we have to do this!”

God picks up the reed-flute world and blows.
Each note is a need coming through one of us,
a passion, a longing-pain.

Remember the lips
where the wind-breath originated,
and let your note be clear.
Don’t try to end it.
Be your note.
I’ll show you how it’s enough.

Go up on the roof at night
in this city of the soul.

Let everyone climb on their roofs
and sing their notes!

Sing loud!

–from EACH NOTE by Rumi

Photo sources: Stars – digital art by Phantom-Seraph
Lips  by Ryan Love Lace Photo

Working away…

Tags

Art, blogs, Culture, digital art, funny, graphic art, Illustration, robots, work

Here I am diligently working…..

leave me alone!!

Just kidding…

Artwork called The Workstation 2  by Jujika

Terror still does not abate…

Tags

Art, comics, fiction, funny, Illustration, life, short story, terror, Writing

When I think back about the first great intervention in my life (I count my shock as the second), I’m ashamed to remember how long I tried to hold out.  I first sought the conventional remedy for a man of my background and education (Brown ’39).  One takes one’s child to see Fantasia, one dreams that night of the devil, one’s terror does not abate the next morning, not the next, nor the next.  After two weeks of this, off one scurries to a psychiatrist.  To whom one is induced to complain about one’s own childhood.  One is talked around into trying to believe one had such and such feelings about one’s father and one’s mother: the so called family romance.  (Oh yes, I know the jargon.) It is pointed out to one that the word abate is in itself a not insignificant choice.  The terror still does not abate.

An excerpt of fiction from the short story The Mail Lady by David Gates.

Artwork: Noaz  by Michael R.  Buhler

Feminine beauty…

Tags

beauty industry, Books, Culture, fashion, feminine, feminine beauty, feminist, feminist issues, Girl in the Black Dress, inspiration, Marianne Williamson, models, musings, society, spirituality, women, Women in society, women writers, women's issues, Writing

Feminine beauty in not a function of clothes or hair or makeup, although billions of dollars are spent in this country each year by women who have been convinced by the advertising industry that it is.  Beauty is an internal light, a spiritual radiance that all women have but which most women hide, unconsciously denying its existence.  What we do not claim remains invisible.  This is why the process of personal transformation–the true work of spiritual growth, whether couched in religious terms or not–is the only antidote to the pernicious effects of society’s back lash against genuine female empowerment.  Society programs us, through the subliminal messages of popular culture, to believe that we’re not truly desirable as women unless we adhere to the current standards of physical beauty.  The reason we’re such fertile ground for the dark forces of such lies and social manipulation is that we’re dissociated from the genuine light of self-awareness.

Our spiritual essence is non material, non physical; and when we become aware of this, we are genuinely empowered. The more we develop what is called in Alcoholics Anonymous our “conscious contact” with truth as God created it, the less we are prey to the lies of a fearful world.  When we are truly aware of our spiritual glory, a varicose vein or two is not that big a deal.

Text: From one of the books all women should read: A Woman’s Worth by Marianne Williamson

Fresh Thomas C. Katt

Tags

Art, cats, drawing, fashion, funny, Illustration, painting, spots, toasters

Okay, I just love this artwork, what can I say. Makes me think…

Artwork: Fresh Thomas C Katt  by Phantom Seraph

A Full Cup

Tags

a full cup, Art, inspiration, life, literature, love, On Earth, Photography, poems, poetry, Robert Creeley, thoughts, women

A Full Cup

by Robert Creeley

Age knows little other than its own complaints.
Times past are not to be recovered ever.
The old man and woman are left to themselves.

When I was young, there seemed little time.
I hurried from day to day as if pursued.
Each thing I discovered, another came to possess me.

Love I could ask no questions of, it was nothing.
I ever anticipated, ever thought would be mine.
Even now I wonder if it will escape me.

What I did, I did finally because I had to,
Whether from need of my own or that of others.
It is finally impossible to live and work only for pay.

I don not know where I’ve come from or where I am going.
Life is like a river, a river without beginning or end.
It’s been my company all my life, its wetness, its insistent movement.

The only wisdom I have is what someone must have told me,
neither to take not to give more than can be simply managed.
A full cup carried from the well.

Photo: A Cup of Sunset by Cren

Evil is boring…

Tags

astrology, evil, fashion, Free Will Astrology, Gemini, illumination, inspiration, joy, life, love, Photography, poetry, quotes, spirituality, success, women

Evil is boring.  The universe is friendly.  Life is on your side.  Joy is a birthright.

Cynicism is idiotic.  Fear is a bad habit.  Despair is lazy.  In fact, all creation wants you to succeed.

Act as if the universe is a prodigious miracle created for your amusement and illumination.

Assume that secret helpers are working behind the scenes to assist you in turning into the gorgeous masterpiece you were born to be.

Remember the fact that life always gives you exactly what you need, exactly when you need it.

These words are from a Sacred Advertisement on Free Will Astrology for my Gemini horoscope last week.  I’m not a big horoscope follower, as horoscopes go in the common sense, like what you find in magazines and newspapers and such. I downright detest the ‘love’ ones, only because they seldom make sense and insult a person’s intelligence.  I would amaze me if there was any truth in them.  They are just for entertainment.  And this site, Free Will Astrology, can be just that too, but I find the words very spiritual and life-affirming.  Check it out if you have time.  In this world where the negative reigns at times, I think we could all use a enlightened uplift occasionally.  Peace…

Photo:  by Ceren Aksan [totally inspired by her work too!]

Books for the Feminist

Tags

Books, Culture, emotions, feminism, feminist, healing, health, inspiration, non-fiction, spiritual, spirituality, women, women's issues

Still delving into this one….complete esoteric and spiritual view of a woman’s body, inside and out.  An uplifting experience….Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom….highly recommended.

And this book, A Woman’s Worth I read some years ago….was quite awakening to read it again….

Teen books: Tithe and Ironside

Tags

Books, faery, fairies, fairy tales, fantasy, fiction, Holly Black, literature, modern fairy tales, teen, teen books, Tithe

Holly Black does a great job with these two…I was fascinated from the beginning.  I love stories that are fantasy, but yet have the reality of our current modern world as home-base for the characters.  The characters were edgy and very human….even if one ended up being a fairy!   I want faery wings!!!!!

Eclecticist Astrology

Tags

astrology, Culture, fun, funny, life, miscellaneous, zodiac signs

Just for fun, inspirations on the astrological currents of celestial whims….See if any ring bells for you.  Peace…

Capricorn – Time for a new read. Consider something different, out of your normal genre.

Aquarius – You tuned into the last season of The Hills just to see Heidi’s new face, and realized that change is not always a good thing.

Pisces – Your future is in your hands.  Now, drop those weeds you’ve been picking and go get a french manicure!

Aries – Ah, the convertible top on your shiny, black sports car is on the fritz.  Pray for no rain.

Taurus – College football season starts in less than 6 weeks.  Keep your chin up.

Gemini – The half moon may be influencing you – or perhaps your undies have ridden up on one side…

Cancer – Ah, summer is in full swing…buy a bathing suit on sale now and have another bowl of ice cream.

Leo – Hair dryers and straighteners only last for about 2 years. Get a new one now before yours quits one morning with half your hair done!

Virgo – That strange dream you had last night may mean something…or not…

Libra – Remember when you take a walk that bird crap on your shoulder (or head) means good luck.

Scorpio – No, you cannot see a rated R movie when you’re 14!

Sagittarius – I see frogs, polar bears, and a jaguar in the future…I don’t know why?  Sheesh.

One of my favorite quotes…

Tags

Art, artists, Jeremy Blake, people, plinky, quotes, Theresa Duncan, women, women writers, Writers

“An artist is supposed to be a land-based astronaut. You’re supposed to be walking out in front of people, avante garde, reporting back, if you make it.”

- Theresa Duncan(1964 – 2007)

More Reading…

Tags

Ann Kidd Taylor, Books, Culture, daughters, Greece, History, inspiration, literature, mothers, Pomegranates, Sue Monk Kidd, Traveling with Pomegranates

Catching up on my books read in 2010…no, I haven’t been slacking off.

This book was a thought provoking mother/daughter memoir about coming to terms as a woman with changes in life, age, and getting a handle on depression, all while traveling to Greece and planning a wedding.  Covers some Virgin Mary history and Greek mythology as well.  Loved the story of Persephone and Demeter, which I blogged earlier.

Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel

Tags

authors, Beatrice and Virgil, book reviews, Books, fiction, Life of Pi, literature, stories, Tales, Writers, Writing, Yann Martel

Those of you may remember my ultimate favorite book is Life of Pi, and for those who are fans of this book there will be disappointment, for Beatrice and Virgil is nothing like the previous Yann Martel lit.  This statement, I must say, is nothing against the great writer, whose delectable ability with words and storytelling stands firmly intact—but more in that, for me, Life of Pi was life enhancing (I won’t say life-changing) and doubt provoking into wonder…it altered my assumptions of survival, religion, and writing, so much so, that Martel of course, could not be expected to achieve this again.

But…since I was told years ago that in a previous life I was a victim of the Holocaust, the end of Beatrice and Virgil scared the shit out of me and produced that knot that’s hard to shake off in the middle of my chest…an emotional rendering. And the retelling of the obscure  Gustav Flaubert story near the beginning of the book made me ill.

Well, that said, I guess you should read it anyway.  Let me know…perhaps my emotional literary habitations altered my diplomacy here.

The Wings of the Dove deeply flutter….

Tags

Books, fiction, Henry James, literary, literature, love stories, stories, Tales, The Wings of the Dove, Writers, Writing

No mistake, a great literary achievement, though many find this one a “hard” read.  I have to agree, and used a nice printable summary of the story by Michael McGoodwin online that helped tremendously with pure understanding.  That said, once you read a few chapters, you get James’ feel in the writing, even with all his detached reminiscences, added toppings, and sometimes obscure references all attached to one simple sentence.  I found myself starting to simplify the wordage myself, while still absorbing the story and his fine literary line.  If you read this one, do print out that summary. I found myself writing my own outline and thoughts on the chapters, which perhaps I’ll type out into a page sometime.  I have to say, I love Milly, “the world’s richest orphan”, and her dramatic will to live life.

Slow Lament

Tags

fashion, heart, inspiration, literature, love, Night, Pablo Neruda, Photography, poems, poetry, portaits, rain, Spanish, Writing

Lamento Lento

En la noche del corazon
la gota de tu nombre lento
en silencio circula y cae
y rompe y desarrolla su agua.

Algo quiere su leve dano
y su estima infinita y corta,
como el paso de un ser perdido
de pronto oido.

De pronto, de pronto escuchado
y repartido en el corazon
con triste insistencia y aumento
como un sueno frio de otono.

La espersa ruenda de la tierra
su llanta humeda de olvido
hace rodar, cortando el tiempo
en mitades inaccesibles.

Sus copas duras cubren tu alma
derramada en la tierra fria
con sus pobres chispas azules
volando en la voz de la lluvia.

Slow Lament  by Pablo Neruda

Into the night of the heart
your name drops slowly
and moves in silence and falls
and breaks and spreads its water.

Something wishes for its slight harm
and  its infinite and short esteem,
like the step of a lost one
suddenly heard.

Suddenly, suddenly listened to
and spread in the heart
with sad insistence and increase
like a cold autumnal dream.

The thick wheel of the earth,
its tire moist with oblivion,
spins, cutting time
into inaccessible halves.

Its hard goblets cover your heart
spilt upon the cold earth
with its poor blue sparks
flying in the voice of the rain.

Photography: Rain   rain  by Lonely Pierot

Rain today….

Tags

Art, Illustration, miscellaneous, musings, Photography, rain, thoughts

We experienced much needed rain in the early blue morning…so today I’m inspired by rain…and pray for more.

Rain Princess by Leonid Afremov

Rain by Suetilanglz

Rain by OmeN2501

Rain by Bramleech

The Rain by OjosVerde

Rain by Biblegeek

All artwork and photography can be found at Deviant Art.

Peace…

Shiva and Shakti

Tags

feminine, Goddesses, gods, History, inspiration, life, love, poetry, Shakti, Shiva, Soul, spirituality, Vedic Gods, women, yoga

Stretching our minds beyond our own religious concepts, I find the Vedic traditions fascinating.  Shiva is the oldest of the Vedic trinity which also includes Brahma and Vishnu (sort of Father, Son and Holy Spirit here too).  Shiva is called the god of yoga, death, cattle, dance, the moon, and all the abstract forces like beneficence and destruction.  Shiva, for me, the lord of yoga is meaningful, being a yoga practitioner, and Shiva, the lord of the dance, as he is usually depicted in bronze statues shows multiple talents (and multiple arm-age!).  Dancing in this circle, Shiva is said to have performed in the place called the “Center of the Universe”, shown in bronze by  the circle of flames which represents the cosmos,  and that the location of this place is within the human heart.  The heartbeat, the basic rhythm of soul pleasing human music, is never forgotten but what is more is that this center of the universe is regarded in each of us, where god is located, within our core, within our own self.  A connection to Shiva brings on a state of actualization and union with our own higher self.

Shiva’s ultimate universal energy could only be expressed, of course, with his female counterpart, Shakti.

Shakti, herself, the Great Goddess (Kali Ma), is realized as both the sexual partner and the innermost animating soul of man or god.  Jung has called her My Lady Soul: “Every mother and every beloved is forced to become the carrier and embodiment of this omnipresent and ageless image, which corresponds to the deepest reality in man.”

Shakti means “Cosmic Energy.”  She implies “power, ability, capacity, faculty, strength, prowess; regal power, the power of composition, poetic power, genius; the power or signification of a word or term; the power inherent in cause to produce it necessary effect…”

Shakti was also a spirit-wife, or female guardian angel, who could incarnate in human female form or remain wholly supernatural at will.  She is the epitome of the thought that “behind every successful man is a great woman”. “An important division of the ‘mythology of woman’ is devoted to showing that it is always a feminine being who helps the hero to conquer immortality or to emerge victorious from his initiatory ordeals…”

So with Shiva we have Shakti.  It is said that all things rose from the union of the two, and that to “become” the powers of both, the body and soul absorb together, bringing one into “possession of her, the cosmic Shakti, the living embodiment of the principle beauty and youth eternal, the ultimate quest”, and with Shiva, lord of yoga, or union, bringing one into contact with his own universal energy, actualization of body, and eternal bliss.

Peace….

A Visit to Lizland…part one

Tags

60s, 70s, Art, artists, Culture, drawing, Illustration, Liz Mamorsky, painting, paintings, women, women artists

Love the 60s and 70s painting series by San Francisco artist Liz Mamorsky.  Her studio, known as Lizland, is an incredible place to visit. For the paintings that follow, Liz is quoted: “I put water and salad oil in a sushi tray to see the shapes the oil made. When I got something I liked, I drew it”

1. Mahogany
2. Osculum
3. Dynamo
4. Neon

A Visit to Lizland…part two

Tags

Art, artist, artists, drawings, dysfunctional, Illustration, mixed media, mixed media art, paintings, people, robots, sculptures, women, women artists

More works by inspirational goddess of art Liz Mamorsky.  She subtitles her studio work as “functional and dysfunctional art.”  I have to agree.  Here’s a few just to prove that nothing is impossible…

Ruby Turtle Spills Her Guts, 1998

Little Egypt...Mixed media wall sculpture

La Table Lavande, iconic abstract, 2005

Dancer, mixed media reindeer table

Lagomorphine, mix media robot wall sculpture, 2010

Have to confess…I like that reindeer table!  Call me weird….please….

Peace…

I am tired of trying to remember…

Tags

fiction, inspiration, literature, short stories, stories, women, Writers, Writing

I am tired of trying to remember all this.  Things people said. I can’t remember.  What I thought of.  I can’t remember.  What I did and where I stood and why I stood there and what it was like to be standing there thinking about why I wasn’t standing somewhere else.  As if the details were related to the whole.  As if the naughts and crosses of this night really were a puzzle you or I could solve.  As if at the end there would be an ending.

Don’t waste your life.

Huh.

The music they played, oh the music they played.  It was joyous, of course.  I am sorry to have to inform you. That it was joyous, and that you were not there.  Unless you were.  And even if you were, you were not.  Not exactly.  Not at exactly my coordinates.  Not the same sort of there.  Not the same there.  Where I was, at the end of my wandering hours.  The there where I stood with my problems and my doubts.  Like a man who had traveled grimly and arrived to a smile.  Ambushed, at the end of everything.

****

Have you wasted your life?  Think carefully. (You don’t actually have to think carefully.)

Exclude your good works and accomplishments.  Think of the empty hours.

Has there once been a once?

I mourn and pity and grieve for you if there has not.

Think harder.  Just once.  It doesn’t matter what it was.  Maybe it was nothing.  Perhaps you think it was nothing.  Insignificant.  The tiniest fleeting thing.  You are embarrassed even to consider it.  But there it is, in your mind, in your memory.  Something.  The line of a shoulder.  The line of a fence.  The roll of a moment.  The feeling.  That feeling.  That you had once.

Come forward with it.  Hold it up and click it.

****

It is very unlikely, statistically speaking, that you have wasted your life.

Text: Keith Ridgway  from the short story Do Make Say Think Show published in Zoetrope All-Story Magazine.
Photo: Wild flowers by Lonely Pierot

Blue Icebergs?

Tags

Argentina, blue icebergs, Chile, Culture, global warming, icebergs, nature, ocean, Science, South America, South Pole, thoughts

In South America????

Off the southern coast of Chile these mammoth freaks of nature can be found, if you can believe it.  A cruise here would be fascinating.  It is said that these large chunks of ice have broken off from a glacier near the Northern Patagonia fields, about 3,000 miles from the South Pole, and can be viewed from a national park in the lower tip of Chile.  There is no supernatural mystery to the beautiful color of this ice.  The blue glow results from a long cycle (for centuries) of freezing and melting that makes the frozen snow dense and airless.  Scientifically speaking: “Molecules of compacted ice crystal absorb red light, which has a long wavelength, and reflect only the shorter wavelength, blue.”  Unfortunately, we have a limited time in viewing this surreal phenomena of nature.  The recent climate changes have doubled the melting rate.  By 2030 these babies will be nothing more than tiny ice cubes that we’ll be able to float in a drinking glass.

Vacation…and fractal art…

Tags

Art, fractal, fractal art, fractal images, Illustration

Taking a bit of vacation this week but thought I’d share some lovely fractal imagery art I found along the way.
More later….

Doves  by NWizard
Doves  by Levitas Rain (both artists at DeviantArt).

More Marion…

Tags

actress, actresses, hollywood, interview, Marion Cotillard

My friend at Just Under the Surface shared a wonderful article by Nicole Kidman about my fav actress Marion Cotillard.  Thought I’d share these incredible photos by Mikael Jansson and some words from Marion herself.  Enjoy…

It’s really an interesting idea to enter someone else’s dreams. I would love to go into an animal’s dream–like a lion’s or a cats’.

I think the Earth and everything around it is connected–the sky and the planets and the stars and everything else we see as a mystery.  I think we connect when we accept that the mystery is also taking place here on the ground.

I think searching is a beautiful thing.  There is this thought that goes, If you search and search and stop searching, then ultimately you’ll find what you need…You have to search first…

The Cost of Distraction: What Kurt Vonnegut Knew (via The Frailest Thing)

Tags

dystopia, fiction, future, government, Kurt Vonnegut, short stories, Writers, Writing

Mezmerized by this post. (Never thought I’d re-post anything, but this is so, so good!) Visit the original post please, especially for the video trailer at the end.

“The year was 2081, and everybody was finally equal.” So begins the late Kurt Vonnegut’s 1961 short story, “Harrison Bergeron.” In 2009, Chandler Tuttle released a 25 minute film version of the story titled 2081, and you can watch the trailer at the end of this post. Vonnegut goes on to describe the conditions of this equality: They weren’t only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. N … Read More

via The Frailest Thing

Here…

Tags

Art, inspiration, Octavio Paz, Photography, poems, poetry, streets

HERE

BY OCTAVIO PAZ

My steps along this street
resound
in another street
in which
I hear my steps
passing along this street
in which

Only the mist is real

Photography: Mist 35  by  Hengki24

Sun throughout the day…

Tags

inspiration, life, literature, love, musings, Octavio Paz, Photography, poems, poetry

TROWBRIDGE STREET

BY Octavio Paz

Sun throughout the
Cold throughout the sun
Nobody on the streets
parked cars
Still no snow
but wind wind
A red tree
still burns
in the chilled air
Talking to it I talk to you

I am in a room abandoned by language
you are in another identical room
Or we both are
on a street your glance has depopulated
The world
imperceptibly comes apart
Memory
decayed beneath our feet
I am stopped in the middle of this
unwritten line

Doors open and close by themselves
Air
enters and leaves our house
Air
talks to itself talking to you
Air
nameless in the endless corridor
Who knows who is on the other side?
Air
turns and turns in my empty skull
Air
turns to air everything it touches
Air
with air-fingers scatters everything I say
I am the air you don’t see
I can’t open your eyes
I can’t close the door
The air has turned solid

This hour has the shape of a pause
This pause has your shape
You have the shape of a fountain made
not of water but of time
My pieces bob
at the jet’s tip
what I was……am……still am not
My life is weightless
The past thins out
The future……a little water in your eyes

Now you have a bridge-shape
Our room navigates beneath your arches
From your railing we watch us pass
You ripple with wind…more light than body
The sun on the other band
grows upside down
Its roots buried deep in the sky
We could hide ourselves in its foliage
Build a bonfire with its branches
The day is habitable

The cold has immobilized the world
Space is made of glass

Glass made of air

The lightest sounds build
quick sculptures
Echoes multiply and scatter them
Maybe it will snow

The burning tree quivers

surrounded now by night

Talking to it I talk to you

Translated by Eliot Weinberger

Photo sources:

An Empty Street by Michiru Haranda
Empty Room  by Fashistt
Fountain by  Alex Durdan
Burning Tree  by Jean Francois

Guests

Tags

fiction, literature, Marie Howe, poems, poetry, stories, thoughts, women writers, Writing

What can I say I just like this poem/story by Marie Howe.  I’m on a poetry kick if you haven’t noticed which, in reading, helps me a lot with finding more expressive words when writing. I recommend it to any writer. And I hypothesize, writing it out could only help…so I thought I’d do it here and share.  This piece is a bit strange…the first line is a killer. I get the feeling of Cheever’s famous short The Swimmer when I read it.  What do you think?

GUESTS   by Marie Howe

You are at a cocktail party, talking to someone who is skewering
a small hot dog with a toothpick when you see the dead peeking
out of the pantry, motioning to you.

Your partner, looking up, just misses your raised eyebrows and
the small wave that has ended in your hand pushing through your hair.
You say, “Suddenly, I have a headache.  I need a glass of water,”

and head through the pantry door where the hostess emerges carrying a tray
and announcing a game of charades.  You allow her to pass, then step
through the pantry to the kitchen where the cook and three

older uncles are sitting around the kitchen table talking.
They say, “Sit down, sit down, the party’s in here.”  You laugh, but decline
and go to the kitchen door where you hear something scratching to get in.

You open it to admit the cat that walks in precise steps to its bowl and eats.
Outside, the snow is falling like teeming arrows to the pavement
and piling up.  A sudden roar of laughter comes from the living room.

Many people are calling your name.  They want you on their team.
The men at the table are rising.  You join them, passing by the cook
and the cat that never looks up from its dinner.

Writing Bliss…

Tags

biography, Bliss, Katherine Mansfield, life, literary, literature, love, short stories, stories, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

I’ve been writing hard, and hopefully getting somewhere and in the mean time
reading many short stories for inspiration, among other things. Katherine Mansfield’s stories have always been my favorites, though, I must confess to having not read all of them, but alas, I’ve found a website that seems to have quite of bit, if not all, of her literary geniuses stuffed on to its pages. Here’s a short bio and a link to my favorite story by Katherine called Bliss.

Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923) was born in Wellington, New Zealand. She persuaded her father, a banker and industrialist, to send her to London in 1903 to study the cello.  With a small allowance from her family, she decided to become a writer instead of a musician after meeting such literary people as D.H. Lawrence and Virginia Woolf.  Her first book of short stories, In a German Pension, was published in 1911.  In the same year she met the literary critic and journalist John Middleton Murry, who became her husband in 1918.

She became stricken with tuberculosis in 1918 and she found it difficult to continue her work. In her posthumously published Journal (1927) she writes: “Look at the stories that wait just at the threshold. Why don’t I let them in? And their place would be taken by others who are lurking beyond just there—waiting for the chance.”  She sought a cure for her illness at the Gurdjieff Institute in France, an establishment run by the mystic Georges Ivanovitch Gurdjieff, whose methods of combined spiritual and physical healing.  Katherine died there a few months later after her thirty-fourth birthday.

So sad, to die so young.  88 of her stories have been published and they have had a great influence on the development of the literary form. She simplified plot to intensify the emotional impact, dramatized small events to reveal the larger significance in the lives of people.  Katherine developed her own technique of prose narration. She presented a psychological moment when a character’s life is illuminated in an unforgettable manner. “Bliss“, in which she depicts the secret and passionate lives of individuals flowing treacherously beneath the seemingly smooth and harmonious surface of a marriage, shows the purity of her style.

Text source: The Story and Its Writer by Ann Charters

Unfold Your Own Myth…

Tags

inspiration, life, love, Photography, poems, poetry, Rumi, spirituality, The Essential Rumi

Who gets up early to discover the moment light begins?
Who finds us here circling, bewildered, like atoms?
Who comes to a spring thirsty
and sees the moon reflected in it?
Who, like Jacob blind with grief and age,
smells the shirt of his lost son
and can see again?
Who lets a bucket down and brings up
a flowing prophet?  Or like Moses goes for fire
and finds what burns inside the sunrise?

Jesus slips into a house to escape enemies,
and opens a door to the other world.
Solomon cuts open a fish, and there’s a gold ring.
Omar storms in to kill the prophet
and leaves with blessings.
Chase  a deer and end up everywhere!
An oyster opens his mouth to swallow one drop.
Now there’s a pearl.

A vagrant wanders empty ruins.
Suddenly he’s wealthy.

But don’t be satisfied with stories, how things
have gone with others.  Unfold
your own myth, without complicated explanation,
so everyone will understand the passage,
We have opened you.

Start walking toward Shams.  Your legs will get heavy
and tired.  Then come a moment
of feeling the wings you’ve grown,
lifting.

–from The Essential Rumi

Not a day on any calendar…

Tags

inspiration, life, miscellaneous, musings, poems, poetry, Rumi, spirituality, stories

Spring, and everything outside is growing, even the tall cypress tree.  We must not leave this place. Around the lip of the cup we share, these words,

My Life Is Not Mine.

If someone were to play music, it would have to be very sweet. We’re drinking wine, but not through lips. We’re sleeping it off, but not in bed. Rub the cup across your forehead. This day is outside living and dying.

Give up wanting what other people have.  That way you’re safe.  “Where, where can I be safe?” you ask.

This is not a day for asking questions, not a day on any calendar.  This day is conscious of itself. This day is a lover, bread, and gentleness, more manifest than saying can say.  Thoughts take form with words, but this daylight is beyond and before thinking and imagining.  Those two, they are so thirsty, but this gives smoothness to water.  Their mouths are dry, and they are tired.

The rest of this poem is too blurry for them to read.

—from The Essential Rumi

Sneak Peek: Chanel’s Lego? (via In allure)

Tags

Chanel, fashion

Saw this and just had to share….

Dee & Ricky, the NYC geniuses behind assorted youthful Lego-pieces accouterments, have created a new brooch that lets you wear your faithfulness to the house of Chanel on your lapel. In the shape of Chanel’s iconic red lipstick, the new brooch is classy with a twist of quirk. … Read More

via In allure

Vampire TV

Tags

CW, movies, teens, televison, TV, twilight, Vampire Diaries

Ah, the new season of TV is starting soon…

So I like the Vampire Diaries…and I am so looking forward to the show tonight. What can I say?  I didn’t get to see all the episodes because I got sucked into this poor excuse for a show they at ABC called Flashforward, which aired at the same time on Thursday nights which got canceled it was so amazing….But this little CW show has got it going on….a little town, a little soap opera, a little cute girl, and not so little hunky vampires. I’d say it’s still for teens, but at least it doesn’t insult the intelligence as much as New Moon.  Do I really need to explain this?

Here’s to a new fall season….

Hey, read this thing I read! And watch this thing I watched! (via Madame Librarian’s Blog)

Tags

blogging, Books, Culture, funny, thoughts, Writers, Writing

This post is so great…speaks to me as an aspiring writer also, and the video at the end, well, it totally cracked me up…don’t ask why…it’s Friday afternoon!!!

I was reading “The Onion” yesterday during my commute. And I got so engrossed in an interview with Jonathan Franzen. I’ve never read any of his books, but this dude has shit figured out, so much so that I’ll have to seek out his work. I really like what he has to say about reading and writing and communicating electronically. I couldn’t trim this down, it just all speaks to the core of my being: I think novelists nowadays have a responsibility—wh … Read More

via Madame Librarian’s Blog

We smuggled the tooth of the Buddha…

Tags

fiction, History, literature, Michael Ondaatje, poems, poetry, stories

Buried 2

i

We smuggled the tooth of the Buddha
from temple to temple for five hundred years,
1300 – 1800.

Once we buried our libraries
under the great medicinal trees
which the invaders burned
–when we lost the books,
the poems of science, invocations.

The tooth picked from the hot loam
and hidden in our hair and buried again
within the rapids of a river.

When they left we swam down to it
and carried it away in our hair.

Poem: by Michael Ondaadje
Image: via madhuganga.com

A surprising movie that really got to me…

Tags

Film, I Am Legend, movies, plinky

I know this film is on the edge considered a horror film, but the whole idea of this guy, all alone, with only his dog, talking with mannequins he’s set up in stores to give himself the semblance of life with people broke my heart….there is so much more, the “cure” that wiped out humanity, his guilt for having create it, his goal to “fix it”, along with the loss….at the end of this film, zombie-freaks aside, I cried my eyes out.

Conflicted Feelings about that Mosque…

Tags

Culture, Current events, Ground Zero, mosque, religion, spirituality, thoughts

Please check out this article by Rachel Larimore at Slate magazine if you’re feeling similar:

Yes, I Do feel Conflicted About the Ground Zero Mosque

This was a great article; summed up my own thoughts to a certain extent.

By the 8th century our rough harbours…

Tags

gardens, life, literature, poems, poetry, rivers

Buried 2

ii

By the 8th century our rough harbours
had already drowned Persian ships

We drove cylinders into the earth
to discover previous horizons

In the dry zone we climbed great rocks
and rose out of the landscape

Where we saw forests
the king saw water gardens

an ordered river’s path circling
and falling,

he could almost see

the silver light of it
come rushing towards us.

– Michael Ondaatje, from the poem collection, Handwriting

The poets wrote their stories on rock and leaf…

Tags

Books, Michael Ondaatje, people, poems, poetry, Sri Lanka, stories

Buried 2

iii

The poets wrote their stories on rock and leaf
to celebrate the work of the day,
the shadow pleasures of night.
Kanakara, they said,
Tharu piri…

They slept, famous, in palace courtyards
then hid within forests when they were hunted
for composing the arts of love and science
while there was war to celebrate.

They were revealed in their darknesses
–as if a torch were held above the night sea
exposing the bodies of fish–
and were killed and made more famous.

What we lost…

Tags

Culture, inspiration, literature, Michael Ondaatje, poems, poetry, Sri Lanka

If you’ve been following along this week, we’ve noticed my outpouring of the poem Buried 2 by Michael Ondaatje, one of my favorite authors.  The poem is from the book, Handwriting, published in 1999.  It is a historic tale of sorts, and perhaps we have to get our brains into another world, another country (Sri Lanka many centuries earlier…or today) to open ourselves the presence of the words.  Esoteric it may be for some.  I understand.  The section that I present today is my favorite…

Buried 2

iv

What we lost.

The interior love poem
the deeper levels of the self
landscapes of daily life

dates when the abandonment
of certain principles occurred.

The rule of courtesy–how to enter
a temple or forest, how to touch
a master’s feet before lesson or performance.

The art of the drum. The art of eye-painting.
How to cut an arrow. Gestures between lovers.
The pattern of her teeth makes on his skin
drawn by a monk from memory.

The limits of betrayal. The five ways
a lover could mock an ex-lover.

Nine finger and eye gestures
to signal key emotions.

The small boats of solitude.

Lyrics that rose
from love
back into the air

naked with guile
and praise.

Our works and days.

We knew how monsoons
(south-west, north-east)
would govern behaviour

and when to discover
the knowledge of the dead

hidden in clouds,
in rivers, in unbroken rock.

All this we burned or traded for power and wealth
from the eight compass points of vengeance

from the two levels of envy

I Love fashion illustration…

Tags

Art, artists, black dresses, Chanel, Culture, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Illustration, Kate Moss, models, Vogue, women

Igor and Andre put out some fantastic illustration work over at Blogger. Here are just a few of my favorites. I wish they were mine!!

I particularly love this last one…I wonder if any of them will actually eat?  Check out more illustrations from Igor and Andre here.…

Happy Birthday to Wit!

Tags

Art, birthdays, blogging, blogs, Cartoons

The Wit Continuum turns two today!!

Time goes by too fast….

Thanks to all for your love and support.

Peace…

A Fashionable Closet

Tags

fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Michael Kors, Vogue

A girl can dream….of Michael Kors….

In the forest of kings…

Tags

History, Michael Ondaatje, poems, poetry

….the rest of Buried 2 by Michael Ondaatje…

Buried 2

v

In the forest of kings
a Dilo Oil tree, a Pig Lily,
a Blue Dawn Bonnet flower

Parrot trees. Pigeon Berries.

Alstonia for the making of matchsticks,
twigs of Moonamal for the cleaning of teeth.
The Ola leaf on which to compose our stanzas of faith

Indigo for eyelids, aerograms / The mid-rib of a coconut palm / to knit a fence
Also Kalka, Churna, Dasamula, Tharalasara….

In the south most violence began over the ownership of trees, boundary lines–the fruit and where it fell
Several murders over one jak fruit tree

vi

For years the President built nothing but clock-towers.

The main causes of death were “extra-judicial execution” and “exemplary killings.”

“A woman said a man pretending to be from the
military make her part with four jak trees in
her garden as a consideration for obtaining the
release of her son arrested some years earlier
during the period of terror.”

–Daily News 15.10.94

The address of torture was off the Galle Road in Koolupitiya

There were goon squads from all sides.

Our archeologists dug down to the disappeared
bodies of schoolchildren

vii

The heat of explosions
sterilized all metal.

Ball bearings and nails
in the arms, in the head.
Shrapnel in the feet.

Ear channels
deformed by shockwaves.
Men without balance
surrounding the dead President
on Armour Street.

Those whose bodies
could be found.

viii

“All those poets as famous as kings”

Hora gamanak yana ganiyak A woman who journeys to a tryst

kanakara nathuva having no jewels,

kaluwan kes kalamba darkness in her hair,

tharu piri ahasa the sky lovely with its stars

Earthly Artwork

Tags

Art, artists, Design, earth, ice, inspiration, lakes, sand, sand art

This artwork was carved out of the frozen lake of Baikal in Siberia by artist Jim Denevan who has created similar art on sand in the Nevada desert as well as on beaches (see below).  This artwork spans nine square miles on Baikal. Impressive. Note the size of people and the truck!

Photos via Amusing Planet
See more amazing sand art by Denevan here. You get to see sort of how he does it! So cool. I wish I possessed his patience.

K. (via missallaneous)

Tags

cell phones, funny, life, musings, teens, text, texting, thoughts, Writing

I have to share this post since my own lovely daughters tend to answer me with the brief, yet poetic, “K” all the time. When I text I still use the old standard “OK” but it seems that in texting world this is too long. Speaking of the text machines (my teens, I refer to here) one actually texted over 20,000 in July! I kid you not. Thank God for unlimited.

You know what’s not happy? When people reply to a text message like this: Now, admittedly, being concise is not my strongpoint; eventhough poetry training taught me to value brevity. And I do. But I’m kiasu and like to make the most of my 10cents per text, so my text messages are like an everyday poetic endeavour to squish the most meaning I can into the least amount of characters. But it’s just kinda sad when you send an extensive text on the cu … Read More

via missallaneous

More books….reading my ass off, people…

Tags

Amitav Ghosh, blogs, Books, Culture, fiction, Film, literature, Michael Ondaatje, novels, Stieg Larsson, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Writers

So I fore-go  the unwit-i-fying gravity defying reviews of the following, though I will give a follow up review of the latest, since it is a “read” in progress….

Books read: Read The Hungry Tide a few years back and found it fascinating. This was done equally well. Ah, the historic opium trade….what did I know?

Re-read Amil’s Ghost because I could not remember how it ended….and because I love the indulgence of words from Ondaatje.

Okay, so I’ve fallen into the “what’s the big deal about this book?” for my latest endeavor. It is out of my genre, and complex, yet methodical in the story telling….taking my time and liking it so far. Stieg Larsson died in 2004, just after delivering the manuscript for this book and the two follow-ups already out in publication.  The movie just came out on video and On Demand.

Going to finish reading before taking this one on. Sound cool?….I’ll give an update review later.

More Wit?

Check out Wit is the New Black for my latest ramblings on art and illustration and style and some other creative stuff in between.

Advice to a Prophet

Tags

dreams, fear, life, literature, love, maddness, poems, poetry, poets, Richard Wilbur, Soul, world, Writing

by Richard Wilbur (1922-         )

When you come, as you soon must, to the streets of our city,
mad-eyed from stating the obvious,
not proclaiming our fall but begging us
in God’s name to have self-pity,

spare us all word of the weapons, their force and range,
the long numbers that rocket the mind;
our slow, unreckoning hearts will be left behind,
unable to fear what is too strange.

Nor shall you scare us with talk of the death of the race.
How should we dream of this place without us? -
The sun mere fire, the leaves untroubled about us,
a stone look on the stone’s face?

Speak of the world’s own change. Though we cannot conceive
of an undreamt thing, we know to our cost
how the dreamt cloud crumbles, the vines are blackened by frost,
how the view alters. We could believe,

if you told us so, that the white-tailed deer will slip
into perfect shade, grown perfectly shy,
the lark avoid the reaches of our eye,
the jack-pine lose its knuckled grip

on the cold ledge, and every torrent burn
as Xanthus once, its gliding trout
stunned in a twinkling.  What should we be without
the dolphin’s arc, the dove’s return,

These things in which we have seen ourselves and spoken?
Ask us, prophet, how we shall call
our natures forth when that live tongue is all
dispelled, that glass obscured or broken

in which we have said the rose of our love and the clean
horse of our courage, in which beheld
the singing locust of the soul unshelled,
and all we mean or wish to mean.

Ask us, ask us whether wtih the worldless rose
our hearts shall fail us; come demanding
whether there shall be lofty or long standing
when the bronze annals of the oak-tree close.

The Crosby Street Hotel

Tags

architecture, Design, designers, hotel rooms, hotels, interior design, Kit Kemp, New York City, people, travel

If  I ever find myself at wit’s end in New York City, of course travel will always get one there, I have to stay at The Crosby Street Hotel to release my artistic vein in travel. This hotel, freshly opened last October, is the design child of the British husband and wife team Tim and Kit Kemp. Interior designer Kit might be described as “Mary Poppins gone Umbrellas of Cherbourg”. She creates an atmosphere of eccentrically severe layers of color and has personally designed every room.  The Kemps are co-owners of London’s Firmdale Hotels. The 11-story Crosby is robust 85,000 square feet and sits back from the curb at a respectable 27 feet.  The front: brick and glass, the upper floors creating great views of the city, but no room is bad in any sense. Stars like Kristen Stewart stay when visiting NY, and last week on the Rachel Zoe Project, the fashion consultant mentioned having to call the Crosby for fashion week. Staying here, means good company.

Read much more about the hotel in link below.

Article Link: Metropolis Magazine

a very, very, mad world…

Tags

dreaming, dreams, Illustration, inspiration, life, love, Mad World, miscellaneous, musings, poems, poetry, song lyrics, spirituality, stories, Tears For Fears, thoughts

I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad.
The dreams in which I’m dying
are the best I ever had.
I find it hard to tell you
’cause I find it hard to take.
When people run in circles
it’s a very, very
mad world…
a mad world.

–Mad World, lyrics by Tears for Fears

So I had this dream the other night…

I was driving my car, the moon roof open (I couldn’t shut it, though I tried) to this town I had to go back to….a desolate place, where everything was dark, black, or shades of gray. The houses, the buildings were partially in ruins, yet still standing…waiting.  A profound sense of emptiness loomed, entered the space of my car, an emptiness of silence, loss, desolation, isolation, desperation.

I stopped the car in the middle of the street, no worries about blocking traffic, there was none. My cousin Chris with the darkest long black hair got out of the car too. She held out this piece of saffron silk and said, I’m going to check out the store, see if she can do anything with this.

Is that from the bridesmaid’s dresses? I asked. She nodded, said to meet her at her apartment and disappeared into the thick of things. I felt alone. I drove on to what was left of her apartment building. What had happened here? Why is everything so dark, so gray? I realized that the entire place had somehow been robbed of all its color, like a color photograph changed to black and white, a thing I can do with my computer. Had someone changed this town, this world to black and white?

Her apartment was intact, mostly, except for part of the roof, which let in the non-illuminating light from the dim sky. I checked her refrigerator. Everything was cold, but no light went on. I climbed up the spiral iron stairs that let to the loft space where a bed was. (Mind you, this is not my cousin’s place…totally new to me…I’m not sure how my mind even created it).  While I’m up there a large white dog comes into the apartment’s living room below. He looks up at me and starts climbing the stairs. What to do? A strange large dog coming  my way, so I wait. He looks like a shaggy German Shepherd, perhaps a husky mix. What is so incredible is how large he is; our faces are level with each other when he sits down and I’m five foot eight inches tall.  I let him sniff my hand, like I’d do with any strange dog and he seems to smile at me. I ruff his furry neck, my hands disappear in his thick hair.  I love this dog. He seems to illuminate, glow in front of me. I woke up after that.

What does is all mean?  So I look in my sister-in-law’s dream interpretation book and find some info. Driving a car in dreams represents one’s independence, self-confidence, responsible for life’s decisions. Driving alone may mean feelings of being alone. The stairs; taking steps toward something, going up in life (or down if going down stairs), an opening or widening of awareness to include areas of experience usually avoided.  The spiral stairs, going a round-about way.  The Dog–dogs are expressions of aspects of ourselves, aggression, sexuality, friendship. A dog is pegged as man’s best friend. A dog in dreams can mean devotion to someone or something. In mythology, a dog in this light may represent an inner sense of knowing how to find transformation through the death of some aspect of ourselves.

Yes….it all makes sense to me now….

Luna

Tags

Chaos, Gnostic, goddess, Goddesses, Luna, moon, mystical, myths, pagan, symbolism, symbols, women

Luna is the Latin name of the Moon-Goddess. In Gnostic symbolism and magic texts she is coupled with Sol, the male sun. Together they represent fire and water, the combination produced the Blood of Life.

Chaucer wrote of Luna:

Luna the Serene
Chief goddess of the ocean and its queen,
Though Neptune have therein his deity,
Is over him and empress of the sea.

Many myths present the Moon-Goddess as the Creatress who first drifted alone on the primal ocean of chaos until she decided to bring orderly forms out of elemental formlessness. She has been known in pagan cultures as “Moon Shining Over the Ocean” and called Luonnatar, Daughter of Nature. But she was not the daughter of anything; she existed all alone in primordial time, until she tired of loneliness and decided to create a world.

Christians claimed the worshippers of Luna were crazy, hence the word “lunatic”, a person moon-touched or moon-struck. To this day, many people believe lunacy is affected by the moon, being characterized by increased psychic disturbances when the moon is full.

Text source: Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

Welcome to October…

Tags

Art, black cats, blogging, blogs, cats, Illustration, October, poems, stories, Tales, thoughts

Aaahhh….the strange and mysterious demands of picking the right mum, the right pumpkin, and if you can stand it, the right scare-crow to decorate the front of your home….

Well, this Wit is bored with all that…and you all  know this is my favorite time of year so I’m setting out on juicy and not-so-nice adventures to find things that creep and scare to share with all my fellow children of the night.

Hope you will enjoy this months posts of esoteric mystery, sacred myths, magical texts and stories of disillusionment and disenchantment.

Welcome all to October….

Black Cat by The White Raven Flies at Deviant ART.

Lycaon

Tags

Lycaon, mythology, myths, stories, Tales, werewolf, werewolves, wolf, wolves

Lycaon was an Arcadian sacred king, and considered the ancestor of all “lycanthropes” or werewolves. His totemic form, of course, was the wolf. He was formerly worshipped in the Lyceum or “wolf-temple” where Aristotle taught.

Lycaon seems to have been an earthly incarnation of several elder gods able to assume the form of a wolf, such as Apollo Lycaeus and Zeus Lycaeus.

Source: Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

Ruth tells my mother about her hallucinations…

Tags

blogging, blogs, drugs, fiction, flash fiction, Gotham Writer's Workshop, hallucinations, morphine, musings, people, scary stories, spirituality, stories, Tales, thoughts, women, Writers, Writing

I may be at my wit’s end for I have diligently working on blogs, writing short stories, revising a novel, drawing some new illustrations, and taking the Gotham Writer’s Workshop online fiction course. October is rocking people!

But I’ve just felt the need to share this strange yet true story. My mother’s neighbor is a lovely lady named Ruth, 91 years old now, who still lives on her own. My mom stops by occasionally to check in on her, bring her some lunch, or a piece of pie she’s made. They sit and talk, for Ruth is alone most of the time…well, sort of.  My mother was amazed to hear about the visions the older woman has been having. Now, one thing must be made clear here before I go on; Ruth is taking some pretty strong meds, including, uh, a morphine patch.  But her delicacy in sharing what she is seeing, and her renowned sense of what is true for her makes this Wit wonder…

Ruth tell my mother that her husband, dead for 18 years is upstairs. He came the night before, with a nurse, and Ruth was relieved. Ruth asked them what they were doing here. Her husband said he was going upstairs. Ruth told the nurse that she better stay and take care of her husband, because she couldn’t anymore since she was in bad shape herself. They went upstairs to her husband’s old room, and Ruth saw them later that night, the nurse taking her old husband to the bathroom.  This was all clear to her, she could see them plain as day, and she was awake, not dreaming.

She tells my mom about the radio station that perpetually plays in her head. She hears the songs, some oldies, and the radio announcer talking, pretty much all the time. This part, flicks on a little light in my head…where have I heard of this happening before??

Then, the other day, when my mom stopped in (she brought Ruth some left over dinner and slice of cake) Ruth told my mother that a woman was walking up the staircase. My mom, of course, got up to check, went upstairs, but no one was there. When she came back down, Ruth understood that Mom couldn’t see the woman, but insisted she could. “That’s nothing,” Ruth said. “There are two guys in the hallway over there trying to open a box. It’s a pretty big box. They’re having a hard time.”  There were no men. There was no box. Then she tells my mother that there were some kids sitting on her couch. “You can see them right now?” my mom asks. “Yes, of course,” Ruth says. They weren’t bothering her in the least.

I’m sure I don’t have to explain, my mother was a bit freaked out. We started talking about the possibility of Ruth maybe seeing dead people, ghosts, something supernatural. I haven’t looked it up, but I’m sure there are side effects to the medications the older woman is taking. Still, the story stops me in my tracts. I’m working on converting this into a short flash fiction piece for my writing class. I always love a good, creepy story.  A true one is sometimes stranger than fiction….

More later….

Something strange…

Tags

Art, black dresses, creepy, creepy art, drawing, Illustration, scary art, women

see something strange

by Willow Hex at DeviantArt

The End

Tags

Art, creepy art, dreams, Halloween, Illustration, nightmares, paintings

The End

by TavernerScholar at Deviant Art

Just sharing another piece of unique, creepy art. This one makes me think…love the dream, or nightmare, – like quality.

What would October be without some Black Cat art?

Tags

Art, black cat, black cat art, black cats, cats, deviant art, Halloween, Illustration, October, paintings

Here are a few fantastic pieces I’ve found with the puss-noir as main subject-matter. Enjoy.

 

 

 

Check out more lovely and haunting black cat art at Deviant Art search, black cats.

My girls wear black….

Tags

Art, black dresses, designers, drawing, fashion, fashion illustration, Girl in the Black Dress, Illustration, pen and ink, Vogue, watercolor, watercolor art

 

 

Ralph Lauren Girl – 1

Autumn

 

Emily – 1

All original Illustrations by The Wit Continuum

©September, October

Check out more of my work at Wit is the New Black/I Dream in illustration

It’s late, and I sit here sipping chamomile tea…

Tags

Art, Benjamin Franklin, electricity, History, Theresa Duncan

It’s late, and I sit here sipping chamomile tea, nursing a sore throat that I did not order, as I read Theresa Duncan’s blog….I read about the history of electricity….

“In 1750 Benjamin Franklin published a proposal for an experiment to prove that lightning is electricity by flying a kite in a storm that appeared capable of becoming a lightning storm. On May 10, 1752, Thomas Francois d’Alibard of France conducted Franklin’s experiment (using a 40-foot-tall iron rod instead of a kite) and extracted electrical sparks from a cloud.”….

More here….

Japanese Robot Creepiness (via Webner House)

Tags

androids, concepts, creepy, Current events, Japanese robotics, life, miscellaneous, robotics, robots, Science

This is creepiness to my wit’s end….

The Japanese seem to be leading the world in robotics, and in particular in attempts to develop an android — that is, a robot that possesses human features. One of the latest ventures in that regard is the Telenoid R1, created by a professor at Osaka University.  Oddly, it is marketed as a kind of telecommunications tool.  The concept is that people will respond to the eye and head movements of the android and communicate more effectively and na … Read More

via Webner House

My love for spiral staircases….

Tags

architecture, Art, Design, Photography, spiral staircases, staircases

I know it’s not something creepy…but I just thought I’d share this lovely spiral staircase sent to me from a Wit Continuum follower in China. The color changes as one looks up into the spiral are so fascinating….it has a dream-like quality.  Perhaps I’ve been staring at it too long…

Image: Tony Hnojcik

Peace…

October Twenty-sixth

Tags

inspiration, life, poems, poetry, songs, Steely Dan, Theresa Duncan

In memory of Theresa….

It’s hard to believe it’s been so many years that you’re gone…

Happy Birthday, where ever you are….

Link to a spooky post from Theresa’s blog

The Dead…

Tags

buried, cemeteries, cemetery, dead, death, Halloween, headstones, James Joyce, literature, Photography, snow, the dead, Writers, Writing

Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of
the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and , farther
westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part
of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the
crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul
swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like
the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.  – James Joyce, The Dead

Photo: Cemetery by blue-blood-karina

Ophthalmic Photography (via Eyeballs By Day, Crafts By Night)

Tags

Art, Culture, eyes, inspiration, life, ophthalmalogy, Photography, Science

The mysteriousness of the inner eye….what I could have only imagined, here in pictures….

I get a lot of questions about what exactly I do, and a lot of confused looks when I introduce myself as an ophthalmic photographer.  I work in a unique and interesting field photographing the insides of people’s eyes, specifically the retina. The retina lines the back wall of the eye and is responsible for our detailed vision.  My imaging of the retina provides the  doctors with crucial information that allows them to diagnose and treat retinal … Read More

via Eyeballs By Day, Crafts By Night

Halloween Jewelry…oohhh…

Tags

Art, artists, creepy, Culture, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Halloween, Halloween Jewelry, jewelry, strange, teens, weird

Bjorg’s 2010 jewelry collection is quite a nightmare….Why not add some creepiness to your style? Inspired by Charles Darwin, these include crab claws, snake skeletons, octopus tentacles and big hunks of raw, unpolished gemstones (chic weaponry?)

Or perhaps your little weary, creeped-out heart would rather these:

Danielle Nicole Hills has some of the darkest designs going….Is that human blood in that ring???

We are chilled…

Link: Frightening Finery: 50+Macabre Jewelry Creations

My “Guests”…

Tags

creepy, Culture, dead, death, ghosts, Halloween, History, life, myths, scary, spirits, spirituality, stories, teens

“A cognate of “guest,” the word ghost is rooted in Germanic Geist, originally a spirit of a dead ancestor invited to tribal feasts on such occasions as Samhaim, or Halloween, and other solemn ceremonies.  Many European peoples preserved the heads or skulls of the dead, which were set up, painted, and decorated, in a prominent position at gatherings of the clan, and were consulted for oracles after being offered their portion of the collation.  Hence the saying “Death’s-head at the feast.”

During later Christian times the custom was discouraged, for the church’s doctrine of resurrection of the flesh forbade burial of bodies without heads.  Nevertheless, the visiting ghost was an ineradicable belief.  Ghosts were supposed to haunt all the scenes of the former lives, especially if they died violently or unhappily, or were buried in unconsecrated ground, or had possessed evil spirits.  The earlier, more benevolent type of family ghost is still suggested by the identical pronunciation of “ghost” and “guest” in northern England.  The anger of ghosts was most feared by people who refused to honor them as guests. “

Text source: The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets
Images:   in ghosts  by mOthyyku and  All the Ghosts will Come Back  by Scheinbar

Doppelgangers

Tags

creepy, Culture, Doppelganger, fiction, Halloween, mirrors, Photography, reflection, scary, Tales, teens

Never quite understood the whole meaning of the doppelganger thing…so here’s a cool and creepy definition from The Book of Myths and Secrets:

Doppelganger is the German word for one’s “double,” corresponding to the Egyptian ka, or a reflection-soul.  Sometimes the afterbirth was said to be an unformed twin of the newborn baby; by magic it might assume the living twin’s shape and follow him through life.  Sometimes this was thought to be the Doppelganger seen in one’s reflection.

Photography: Doppelganger  by Feinga87

Grotesques…Church decoration on the creepy side

Tags

architecture, Art, churches, creatures, Culture, Design, gargoyles, grotesques, Halloween, History, idols, pagan, paganism, sculptures, stories, teens

Grotesque as a word means “creatures of the Grotto” which stems way back before the Christian churches and refers to the sacred caves of paganism.  Early churches were built over the heathen “grottos” and these delicately creepy statues and carving were incorporated on the wall and corners of the new buildings in the forms of animal gods, masques, sirens, gorgons, satyrs, serpents and other idols.  These same deities were worshipped side by side with the Christian ones, so the people would continue to come to church by force of habit, finding their familiar idols there. Some hardly noticed the change, which is exactly what the early church authorities counted on.  Pope Gregory the Great ordered missionaries to “accommodate the ceremonies of the Christian worship as much as possible to those of the heathen, that the people may not be much startled at the change.”

Later, the Grotesques were defined as “devils”, and the church was left with the images of rival deities undermining their religion.  The people secretly prayed to them, or touched them for “luck,” and often gave offerings. The traditions of the grotesques were perpetuated by secret societies among artist, masons, and smiths, whose work together preserved the gargoyle art we still see today adorning famous buildings and ancient shrines.  Above is a view from Notre Dame, Paris.

Source text; Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

Hex…and the number 6

Tags

666, Chartes Catherdral, Culture, Esoteric, esoteric traditions, Halloween, hex, hexagrams, hexes, History, magic, mazes, numbers, religion, six, spells, witches

Hex is a word with many deep esoteric undertones….it is the word for a witch’s spell and has a long association with the number six–Greek hex, Latin sex, and Egyptian sexen, “to embrace, to copulate.”  Six was everywhere the number of sex, representing the union between the Triple Goddess and her trident-bearing consort, which is why Christian authorities call six “the number of sin.”  Pythagoreans on the other hand called six the perfect number.

To this day, hex signs are hexagonal like the six-pointed Tantric yantra of love, or Hexagram. (sample above from a Christian church).

A triple six, 666, was the magic number of Triple Aphrodite (or Ishtar). The Book of Revelation calls it the number of the Beast and it is usually referred as the number of  Satan.  Yet recurrences of this number in esoteric traditions are often surprising. For example, the maze at Chartes Catherdral was planned to as to be exactly 666 feet long. (Image below)

Happy Halloween 2010

Tags

black cats, Halloween, Happy Halloween, pumpkins

Happy Halloween

2010

Hope you get your fill of munchies, frights, good creepy movies, kids acting weird, pumpkins at large, and the lone stray black cat at your door….oh, and don’t forget to carve that pumpkin before some prankster smashes it…

Images of Theresa

Tags

artists, blogs, Jeremy Blake, life, love, Photography, quotes, Theresa Duncan, women

© Images of Theresa Duncan by Wilbur King III, September 1990 are copyright registered.

These beautiful photographs of Theresa were taken by Wilbur King one day in September, 1990, on the rooftop of the Hotel Washington.  Afterward, they attended a Sam Fuller movie at the Kennedy Center.

Theresa loved to talk at length about French literature, and a little known fact to pass along is that she always celebrated her birthday on Halloween.  I love that….

The first photo is my favorite, but all are so poignant, and mesmerizing.  Theresa’s eyes in the last picture hold a quality I cannot put my finger on….It is quite soul-reaching for me…

I would like to extend a special, heart-felt thanks to Wilbur King III for exclusive permission to use these images and the story provided.

Political Satire on the Mall…

Tags

comedians, comedy, Culture, Current events, funny, History, Jon Stewart, life, miscellaneous, musings, news, people, rally, Stephen Colbert

Thousands gathered at the Mall in Washington D.C. on October 30th to witness some political satire from these two comedians, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. The rally, so titled The Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear started at noon on Saturday and was broadcast live on CNN.com.  I stuck around for the opening parts, the semi-fun commentating by Stewart and the arrival of Colbert through the stage floor, attired in Evel Knievel costume, from a fictional underground “fear bunker” in a Fenix tube (like the one that was used to rescue the Chilean miners.) Afterward, Father Guido Sarducci, from SNL fame, gave a benediction asking God to send a sign of which religion was the “right” one.  It was quite funny, or so this Wit thought.

All in all, it seemed to be a fun day for all to which CNN called a “Moment of Zen” on the Mall.  How poetic?

People carried signs with quotes like: “Oh no, You Di’n't! Fox News”, “Biparti – Sanship”, “Obama Cake”, “God hates Nags”, “I respect your opinion,” and my favorite, “Does this sign make me look fat?”

Give me an insanity pill and a fear enema, please.  It is clear…some of us need to lighten up. Perhaps Stewart and Colbert just might have pulled it off.

Images: Post-Gazette.com and Guardian.co.uk

Rula’s View

Tags

black dresses, Books, Culture, fashion, Film, journalism, Julian Schnabel, movies, people, poetry, Rula Jebreal, TV, women, women writers

Photograph by Annie Leibovitz

In the spring of 2007, Rula Jebreal, a prominent political journalist and TV anchorwoman in Rome, was lunching with her friend Walter Veltroni, the city’s mayor. He told her that a man wearing pajamas had come to his office that morning and asked him to turn off the lights—to improve the view of the Roman ruins outside the window. “Who was that nut?” she inquired. “He’s an artist, an interesting guy,” Veltroni said. “His name is Julian Schnabel, and he’s having a show at the Palazzo Venezia tonight—you should go.”
Rula did go to the Schnabel opening and stayed for the festive dinner afterward. Toward the end of it, the artist made his way down the long table, exchanging pleasantries with some of the 300 guests. He stopped when he got to Rula and introduced himself.

“Are you Indian?” he asked.

“No, I’m Israeli.”

“So you’re Jewish?”

“No. I am Palestinian.” (Pause.) “What’s wrong? Are you scared?”
“Should I be?” Schnabel wasn’t scared. He was dazzled—by her dark-skinned beauty, her intelligence, and her reputation as a writer, which he had already heard about. “He had a charming smile,” she remembers. “Very innocent, like a child.” He asked if he could see something she had written.

She sent him her first book, Miral, in a rough English translation. Published in Italy in 2003, it is an autobiographical novel about three generations of Palestinian women, told through the eyes of a girl growing up in Jerusalem during the first intifada—the Palestinian uprising that began in 1987 against the Israeli occupation. The book, surprisingly, is not anti-Israel; it recognizes the conflict as an ongoing tragedy for both sides. “I found the story was very important, heartbreaking,” Julian tells me. “It was a learning experience for me, as a Jewish person, like taking a walk in somebody else’s shoes. I also thought, This is a movie—it’s actually written like a movie.” More here.…

Article: Vogue magazine by Dodie Kazanjian

Unusual Ballot Measures…

Tags

aliens, ballot, California, Colorado, Culture, Current events, Denver, funny, life, marijuana, miscellaneous, musings, news, people, Proposition 19, vote, voting

So today the Californian residents get to vote yes or no on Proposition 19….So far the smoke out has a 41% opposition….I say legalize it and put some of these drug lords out of business….

Proposition 19, also known as the Regulate, Control and Tax Cannabis Act of 2010, is a California ballot proposition which will be on the November 2, 2010 California statewide ballot. It legalizes various marijuana-related activities, allows local governments to regulate these activities, permits local governments to impose and collect marijuana-related fees and taxes, and authorizes various criminal and civil penalties.^[1] In March 2010, it qualified to be on the November statewide ballot.^[2] It requires a simple majority in order to pass, and would take effect the day after the election.^[3] Yes on 19 is the official advocacy group for the initiative, and No On Proposition 19 is the official opposition group.^[4]

Proponents of Proposition 19 argue that it would help with California’s budget shortfall, cut off funding to violent drug cartels, and redirect law enforcement resources to more dangerous crimes,^[5] while opponents claim that it contains gaps and flaws that may have serious unintended consequences on public safety, workplaces, and federal funding.^[6] As of October 2010^[update], even if the proposition is passed, the sale of marijuana will remain illegal under federal law via the Controlled Substances Act.

But Denver, Colorado residents have an enormously different decision to make today…to support Denver Initiative 300, which will protect them from future contact with, you guessed it…aliens (uh, the ones from another planet, please).

Denver Initiative 300 on the 2010 ballot seeks to establish and fund an “extraterrestrial affairs commission” to ensure our safety in any “potential interactions with extraterrestrial intelligent beings or their vehicles.”

Because that’s what these sorts of illegals do. They come here smuggling their unearthly drugs and spreading disease strains we can’t cure. They drive their non-American unregistered vehicles around without proper driver’s licenses and smash into American citizens and then they fly across the border and beyond the clouds.

The Initiative proponent is Denver resident Jeff Peckman, who has appeared on Letterman and on FOX to speak about ET visitations. He introduced the initiative in April and in roughly a month he landed the 3,973 signatures– or 5 percent of the number of votes cast in the city’s prior mayor’s race– to secure a place for Initiative 300 on the November ballot. Peckman posted a website, extracampaign.org, as part of his signature-gathering efforts.

Uh, okay….We here in PA have to decide on Home Rule form of government….I feel so bored….

Sources: Wikipedia  and Colorado Independent.com

Images: Uncoverage and  Wisdom Quarterly

The wind? I am the wind…

Tags

Art, artists, Carl Sandburg, Dance, dancers, freakish accidents, History, Isadora Duncan, modern dance, poems, poetry, stories, untimely deaths, women

Isadora Duncan is considered to be the creator of modern dance. She was born in the U.S. but lived most of her life in Europe and the Soviet Union. Isadora died in one of the most freakish auto accidents I’ve ever heard of, her fondness for long scarves being the cause, and giving rise to the mordant remark by Gertrude Stein that “affectations can be dangerous.”

On the night of September 14, 1921, Duncan was a passenger in the automobile of handsome French-Italian mechanic Benoit Falchetto. Before getting into the car, she reportedly said to Mary Desti and her friends, “Adieu, mes amis. Je vais a la gloire!” (Good-bye, my friends. I am off to glory!) or she may have said, “Je vais a lamour.” (I am off to love).  Who really knows?

Either way, when they drove off, Duncan’s long, long scarf, a gift from Mary Desti, and wrapped around Isadora’s neck, became entangled around one of the vehicle’s open-spoked wheels and rear axle.

New York Times obit quote: “Isadora Duncan, the American Dancer, tonight met a tragic death at Nice on the Riviera. According to dispatches from Nice, Miss Duncan was hurled in an extraordinary manner from an open automobile in which she was riding and instantly killed by the force of her fall to the stone pavement.”  Other sources describe her death as resulting from strangulation, noting that she was almost decapitated by the sudden tightening of the scarf around her neck.

Which leads this Wit to wonder: How the hell long was that scarf?

She is buried at Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. Carl Sandburg in his poem Isadora Duncan wrote:

“The wind?  I am the wind.

The sea and the moon? I am the sea and the moon.

Tears, pain, love, bird-flights?

I am all of them.

I dance what I am.

Sin, prayer, flight,

the light that never was on land or sea?

I dance what I am.”

Story source: Wikipedia

Something finer than wit or beauty…

Tags

beauty, Books, fiction, literature, Michael Cunningham, mirrors, movies, novel, poems, reflection, stories, The Hours, Virginia Woolf, wit, Writers, Writing

She rises from bed and goes into the bathroom….In the bathroom, she washes her face. She does not look directly into the oval mirror that hangs above the basin. She is aware of her reflected movements in the glass but does not permit herself to look.  The mirror is dangerous; it sometimes shows her the dark manifestation of air that matches her body, takes her form, but stands behind, watching her, with porcine eyes and wet, hushed breathing.  She washes her face and does not look, certainly not this morning, not when the work is waiting for her and she is anxious to join it the way she might join a party that had already started downstairs, a party full of wit and beauty certainly but full, too, of something finer than wit or beauty;  something mysterious and golden; a spark of profound celebration, of life itself, as silks rustle across polished floors and secrets are whispered under the music.     –The Hours, by Michael Cunningham

Currently reading The Hours by Michael Cunningham. This part is from a section in the narrative about Virgina Woolf, a fictional account of her life. Or a part thereof….The entire book  is a fascinating read.

Photo: Mirror by In The Cold Breeze

Just thought I’d share this…

Tags

Art, blogging, blogs, Culture, Current events, inspiration, Netherlands, quotes, thoughts, Writing

… lovely comment from my contact page…Thank you,  Eric.     Times are hard. Where is the beginning and where is the end? Sometimes i forget about all of this and i end up in my own world again. It’s an vision of a utopie, but very blurry and surrounded by mist. Questions are raised and answers reveal themselves. Where am i? I am right here, sharing this moment with all of you, outside, inside and in every space between. Trying to connect myself. Why do i try? We are already connected. Everything. Dear, I came to your website. I must say that everything i see is very interesting for me. I get lots of inspiration from your world, you’r images and your energy collection everything, bringing it all together. Times are hard. I am an young man from Groningen, Netherlands. The government over here try to cut down the money for art and culture. Our country is very disturbed right now. But not only our country. The whole world! As i said, your blog gives me inspiration and strength. Strength to fight even harder for a free world! Thanks for being! Eric

Fog

Tags

Amy Clampitt, Art, fog, inspiration, islands, Photography, poems, poetry

A vagueness comes over everything,
as though proving color and contour
alike dispensable; the lighthouse
extinct, the islands’ spruce-tips
drunk up like milk in the
universal emulsion; houses
reverting into the lost
and forgotten; granite
subsumed, a rumor
in the mumble of ocean.

Tactile
definition, however, has not been
totally banished: hanging
tassel by tassel, panicled
foxtail and needlegrass,
dropseed, furred hawkweed,
and last season’s rose-hips
are vested in silenced
chimes of the finest,
clearest sea-crystal.

Opacity
opens up rooms, a showcase
for the hueless moonflower
corolla, as Georgia
O’Keeffe might have seen it,
of foghorns; the nodding
campanula of bell buoys;
the ticking, linear
filigree of bird voices.

 

-  Amy Clampitt

Image: Into the Fog by Raindog

 

Looking….down….

Tags

Art, London, Monument tower, Photography, spiral staircases, spirals

Monument Stairs by Raindog

A view down the stairs of the Monument tower in London.

My own fog….

Everything fades and disperses to the eye as the fog falls into the bay. The lighthouse becomes a mysterious thought, somewhere out there among the spruce tips, sinking into milkiness. Houses are lost and forgotten on the shore, the granite walks invisible, but the soft mumble of the ocean makes its presence known.

What is still clear before one’s eyes are the numerous water growths, substancial little cities in themselves, the foxtale and needlegrass landing, the dropseed and the furred hawkweed on the promenade, and last season’s rose-hips showing crystal clear streets near the edge of the milk world.

We walk on into the opacity which opens up the room of flowering whiteness (we think Georgia O’Keeffe might see this one too) and our ears, our ears can still be clear though all this denseness, for the foghorn calls softly to those in danger, the bell buoys tink in the soft waves, and a bird calls in its whited flight.

The All-knowing Fog

Tags

Art, digital art, fog, haunted, myths, poems, poetry, stories, Tales, Writing

She had lost her way….

But the fog came to guide her…

She followed the fog…

A simple spirit….who knew and subsumed the day….

And there someone waited….lighting the way.

Link

The Other Side

Tags

Art, artists, Culture, images, inspiration, Marilyn Gelfand, people, photographers, Photography, photos, women

Rial to Bridge

 

Recently I’ve come across the lovely and quite extraordinary photography talent of Marilyn Gelfand. Her wonderful series called The Other Side is a fascinating gallery of images, each a story of its own.

Of herself she says:  My photography is inspired by the notion that every split second of life is unique; never to play out the same way again.  Wherever I am, I hunt for opportunities to make pictures and record my personal take – exposing the extraordinary  in the ordinary.

Tilter Reflections

 

Il Gesu

Dash

Diver

 

 

Another book…another scare…

Tags

blogs, Books, Film, John Ajvide Lindqvist, literature, Morrissey, movies, poetry, Stephen King, stories, Swedish writers, teens, twilight, vampires

Yes, I know, Halloween is well over, and I was late in picking up a good scary read for the season….but I have to say I’m not disappointed.  Let the Right One In is the scariest read since Duma Key by Stephen King.  Writer John Ajvide Lindqvist has been proclaimed the King of Sweden. I can see why. This is a true vampire story without the sickening crap, smoldering glares, and teen drama trauma to hinder its brilliance.

Though the story left some mysterious mysteries hanging….like that strange gold egg puzzle of Eli’s and what ever happened to the intern guy who got half eaten…he should have perhaps attacked quite a few people in the morgue later….

So it wasn’t prefect, had a lot of extra detail, but the last half of the book is so frightening we don’t care a wit.  The extra sexuality I can do without. It was unnecessary to enhance the story.

Yet to see either Swedish or American versions of Let Me In….will fill you in when I get my wits up see it.

I leave you now with the opening text of Part Five: Let the Right One Slip In:

Let the right one in
Let the old dreams die
Let the wrong ones go
They cannot do
What you want them to do

– Morrissey, “Let the Right One Slip In”

Tags

Culture, Current events, holidays, movies, Thanksgiving, The Godfather, turkey

 

Allow me to give you an offer you can’t refuse….

Have a Happy Thanksgiving….

and after the stuffed bird has stuffed you, grab a nice glass of vino and sit back to The Godfather marathon on AMC.  That’s were this wit will be….

 

The feeling of winter…

Tags

Andrew Wyeth, Art, artists, fall, landscape painting, life, miscellaneous, musings, people, quotes, season, thoughts, winter

“I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure in the landscape – the loneliness of it – the dead feeling of winter.  Something waits beneath it – the whole story doesn’t show.” – Andrew Wyeth

That says it all for me.

?

Tags

life, musings, poems, poetry, quotes, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Writers

There are the unanswered questions;
Couldst see thy proper eye,
Always it asketh, asketh;
And each answer is a lie.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

B&W Kate Moss

Tags

black clothes, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Kate Moss, models, people, poetry, women

Nothing deep today….just some images I like….Kate in black and white….

Images from Harper’s Bazaar and Topshop.

…nothing is just what it seems to be…

Tags

Anne Sexton, life, literature, poems, poetry, rooms, typewriter, window, women, women writers, Writing

THE ROOM OF MY LIFE

Here, in the room of my life the objects keep changing,
Ashtrays to cry into, the suffering brother of the wood walls,
the forty-eight keys of the typewriter
each an eyeball that is never shut,
the books, each a contestant in a beauty contest,
the black chair, a dog coffin made of Naugahyde, the sockets
on the wall waiting like a cave of bees, the gold rug
a conversation of heels and toes, the fireplace
a knife waiting for someone to pick it up,
the sofa, exhausted with the exertion of a whore,
the phone
two flowers taking root in its crotch,
the doors
opening and closing like sea clams,
the lights, poking at me,
lighting up both the soil and the laugh.

The windows, the starving windows that drive trees like nails
into my heart.
Each day I feed the world out there although birds explode right
and left.  I feed the world in here too, offering the desk puppy
biscuits.  However, nothing is just what it seems to be.
My objects dream and wear new costumes, compelled to, it seems,
by all the words in my hands and the sea that bangs in my throat.

ANNE SEXTON
from The Awful Rowing Toward God (1975)

Post Thanksgiving Post

Tags

American, Culture, History, holidays, immigrants, inspiration, life, Thanksgiving

A note from fellow writer Erick Messias:

America has mused and been sung by many great voices, from Whitman’s poetry to Springsteen’s songs, from Gershwin’s melodies to JFK’s oratory. Yet, each November, as winter knocks on the continent’s door, even the most out-of-tune singer, the most handicapped writer hears the call to pay homage to this amazing land.

Thanksgiving is the quintessential American holiday. It’s not bound by religious, ethnic, or racial affiliations and does not have equivalent in other countries. It’s also a time when we are reminded we are all immigrants in this generous land. Someone, a close or distant relative, took a boat, or a plane, seeking opportunities and freedom, and made that trip for each one of us, crossing oceans and continents to reach these shores.

Through out its history, America has been a welcoming land, a true beacon of hope for people of all creeds, including no creed at all, and all races. America with its beaches, its rivers, its never-ending prairies, its mountains; America with its swamps and deserts, its lakes and gulfs, has welcomed multitudes that sought these shores as safe harbor from injustice, oppression, and tyranny.

In this holiday season, take some time and thank that relative, that parent or great-grandparent, that five generation forgotten elder, who one day, possible while young and strong, took that decision, crossed the planet and made you an American, a native of this great country, a member of the greatest human adventure for the right to life, liberty and the pursue of happiness.

Erick L M de Messias, MD, MPH, PhD
Psychiatric Research Institute
University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences

May all of us remember this through the holiday season and always.

Peace…

Talking Cats Play Pattycake (via The Ancient Gaming Noob)

Tags

cats, Culture, funny, laugh, randomness, you tube

One of the funniest cat videos I’ve ever seen….
Check it out for a good laugh to start the weekend…

It is Friday and that guy who did the Werner Herzog videos on YouTube hasn’t done anything in ages. So, instead, here are cats playing Pattycake courtesy of my wife.  Pattycake is a game of sorts, right? Oh, and the cats, they talk.  But you kind of have to talk to play Pattycake. Our cats don’t have the patience for this sort of thing, though one of our cats will play fetch if he is in the moo … Read More

via The Ancient Gaming Noob

Life Interrupted….more reading….

Tags

artists, autobiography, Books, car accidents, Culture, inspiration, life, Life Interrupted, literature, monologues, movies, non-fiction, notebook, people, quotes, Spalding Gray, stories, suicide, Writers, Writing

Yes, yet again life is interrupted with great reading….this time in the form of a great book by the late Spalding Gray.

Life Interrupted, The Unfinished Monologue, was Gray’s last work. He was a pretty well-known actor, appearing in such films as The Killing Fields and Steven Soderbergh’s Gray’s Anatomy. He is best known for his one-man shows on Broadway, a lone man sitting at a desk, with a glass of water and a notebook, performing the monologues of his life. He was still working on Life Interrupted, and suffering from intense depression, when he died in 2004, another tragic suicide in which it is believed that he jumped off the Stanton Island ferry, his body found in the East River a week later.

Life Interrupted sort of tells the initiation he had into his depth of depression, recounting the tale of the car accident he was in on a trip to Ireland with his wife and some friends. Heavily present throughout the reader can feel  “a lot of death in the air.”  The accident left Gray’s right hip crushed, an injury he never fully recovered from, and an injury to his brain from a cranium fracture, that went undetected for some time (Irish hospitals were not up to snuff, and quite filthy it seems during his stay). Gray’s intense and honest words hold the reader captive. I could only imagine him acting them out on stage, or perhaps I’d rather have listened to him over a glass of wine in the living room just sharing his thoughts straight out…laughing and crying at the same time.

I’ll leave you with the end quote:

“I’ve never been able to give advice before in my life. I’ve always been a relativist, and someone who felt that he didn’t know. Even as a father it’s been difficult to say what exactly one should and should not do in this world of confusing, relativistic, movable-feast morality.  But I have to say that I now can give advice around one issue, or two issues:  Always wear your seat belt in the back seat of the car, which I’m sure you know, whether you do it or not.  And whatever you do, get an American Express platinum card–it’s only three hundred dollars extra–so you can be medevacked the fuck out of a foreign country if you get in an accident.

Thank you for coming tonight.”

Remembering John

Tags

artists, Culture, Current events, death, History, Imagine, inspiration, John Lennon, life, love, Music, musicians, obits, people, poems, quotes, The Beatles

It was 30 years ago today….yes, 30 years, hard to believe,
that some loser came up to the Beatles legend and asked him
to simply sign his album cover.
John Lennon obliged. A nice guy he was.
A few hours later that same loser….well, you know the rest,
and the world lost one of the greatest thought-provoking musicians of our time.

Today The Wit Continuum remembers John Lennon.
October 9, 1940 – December 8, 1980.

Imagine all the people…
Living life in peace…

Hope you are still imagining….wherever you are…

 

Portrait: Schimmel Art

Who needs it?

Tags

Charles Bukowski, Culture, drinking, drinks, funny, life, martini, poems, poetry, poets, quotes, Writing

see this poem?
it was
written without drinking
I don’t need to drink
to write.
I can write without
drinking.
my wife says I can.
I’m not drinking
and I’m writing.
see this poem?
it was
written without drinking.
who needs a drink now?

probably the reader.

poem by
Charles Bukowski
the man who “brought everybody down to earth,
even the angels.”

image: link

Portrait Perfection

Tags

Art, artists, Culture, famous people, Illustration, Kurt Vonnegut, Lucy Lui, mosaic tile art, mosaic tiles, Nicole Kidman, paintings, people, Pop Art, portrait art, portraits, Schimmel Art

I’m still amazed at the mosaic portraits created by the very gifted Sandhi Schimmel Gold.  She carefully places recycled pieces of junk mail and other scraps to create these works of art. The time it must take??? Featured today are a few of her newer pieces that I love.  The second on is for you, SB…

Link

Her Fearful Symmetry…

Tags

Audrey Niffenegger, book clubs, book reviews, Books, fiction, ghost story, ghosts, Her Fearful Symmetry, literature, reading, reading books, stories, Tales, teens, women, women writers, Writing

So I finished this book over the weekend with all the rain keeping me tucked in, and after decorating the Christmas tree, which is really bringing the spirit home.

And thankfully it is not the spirit that haunts this book. I didn’t read The Time Traveler’s Wife, and from what I’ve read in reviews of Her Fearful Symmetry, if you’ve read Time Traveler you’ll surely be disappointed with this one.  Since I am new to Niffenegger’s novels, this one was a fine read for me, though strange at times.

We find some unique character building in the chapters, and I sometimes did wonder what was connecting them all, aside from where they lived, but that aside, a guy with an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder who incessantly cleans with bleach and won’t leave his apartment, and mirror twins who dress alike and are 21-years-old was enough to keep me going. Though I do find the twins’ lives implausible, except perhaps in a fantasy world unlike our own, I bought into it for the story’s sake and went on.  The ghost who ends up haunting them is at first a delight to get to know, and the author’s take on the afterlife is quite thought provoking, but the spirit in question turns a bit weird and egoistic, and without giving away the story, well, she becomes sort of creepy, which would be right up my alley, if I thought the story was supposed to be really scary, but it wasn’t.  In any case, one would have to read this one to get their own final take on the ending, which I think was appropriate for all involved.  I am left remembering these characters; they are visions in my mind, and somehow I know they will never leave.  This is a compliment to Audrey Niffenegger, which I hope she’d appreciate.

Morning, Noon and Night

Tags

book reviews, Books, children, Culture, family, funny, inspiration, kids, life, literature, love, parenthood, people, Spalding Gray, stories

I enjoyed this one, a short read this week.

From the book cover:

“A richly comic work about parenthood, about adults who won’t grow up and children who do, Morning, Noon and Night stands as Spalding Gray’s most mature work…”

Praise for Spalding Gray

“Spalding Gray may be the nation’s most outstanding storyteller. Nothing eludes his eye or the sureness of his satire. The secret of his success is the skewed angle of vision–his eccentric wit and ruthless candor.” — Los Angeles Times

I love falling snow….

Tags

Art, artwork, blog, blogs, Digimon, digital art, falling snow, funny, Illustration, miscellaneous, snow, snow fall, winter, wordpress

And I love it on my blog…until January 4….thank you WordPress….

Digital artwork: Knuxz at Deviant Art

Black Dresses XIII & XIV

Tags

actresses, Art, artists, black dresses, blogs, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Illustration, Marion Cotillard, models

Could it be that a year has gone by since my last black dress was posted??  Crazy huh? So I had to share one I’ve come across, which is mostly black, and looking exquisite on Marion Cotillard, one of my favorite actresses.

And my own black dress illustration art (for Lisa):

©2010,the wit continuum

Magic persists without us….

Tags

cats, Charles Bukowski, Egypt, Egyptian Mau, Egyptians, History, inspiration, literature, love, magic, poems, poetry, words

in other words

by Charles Bukowski

the Egyptians loved the cat
were often entombed with it
instead of with the women
and never with the dog

but now
here
good people with
good eyes
are very few

yet fine cats
with great style
lounge about
in the alleys of
the universe.

about
our argument tonight
whatever it was
about
and
no matter
how unhappy
it made us
feel

remember that
there is a
cat
somewhere
adjusting to the
space of itself
with a delightful
grace

in other words
magic persists
without us
no matter what
we may try to do
to spoil it.

_________________

Just thought I’d share another great “Buk” poem from
The Pleasures of the Damned.  I like this one…on more than
one level.

Rare Lunar Eclipse Tonight (via Columbia County Current)

Tags

celestial objects, Culture, Current events, Druids, Eclipse, inspiration, lunar eclipse, moon, Night, pagan, paganism, peace, spirituality, twilight, winter solstice

This Wit will be up to view and receive blessing from the lunar eclipse tonight….sure to be donned in the warmest of witless attire, all in black of course, expressing some pagan chant in a cloud of white breath, into the longest night of the year….
Peace to all in the celestial world….that means you as well as the moon.

Tonight, technically Tuesday morning, the moon will move into the earth’s shadow, causing a lunar eclipse. This will be the first time a lunar eclipse has occurred on the Winter Solstice since 1638 so Druids, Pagans and Twilight Fans are sure to be out chanting in the moonlight. Depending on cloud coverage in your area, the eclipse will be visible to anyone in North America. Starting around 1:30 a.m. Eastern time, the earth’s shadow should begin … Read More

via Columbia County Current

Another…Black Dress XV

Tags

actresses, black dresses, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, models, Natalie Portman, Vogue, women

Yet another gorgeous dress noir on the ever petite Natalie Portman who appears in her new film Black Swan this weekend.  Here, in Vogue from 2006.  Love it, and she makes me want to crop my hair and be done with it….

Image via Fashion Moment

Nothing says Christmas like red…

Tags

Christmas, clothes, dresses, fashion, Gemma Ward, Girl in the Black Dress, gowns, holiday dresses, models, red, red dresses, Valentino

Gemma Ward stuns in this Valentino red gown that I’d eat nails to own.  What can I say? This girl who wears mostly black would make an exception, especially at this time of year.  Salute!

Image via Fashion Moment

Christmas is almost here…

Tags

Brixton, Christmas, Christmas decorations, Electric Avenue, greetings, History, people, Photography

….are you ready?

Tags

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

Wishing everyone a Christmas full of love, happiness, peace
and all the cookies one can possibly eat ….
And a Happy New Year!
…may it be the best ever.

 

The Wit Continuum will be on leave through the holidays…
see you all on the other side…

Tags

Black Swan, Natalie Portman

The Wit Continuum is on a holiday break….

See you in the new year.

Wit is Back…

Tags

2012, enlightenment, fashion, inspiration, Jimmy Choo, models, New year, red, red dresses, red shoes, shoes, thoughts, Valentino, women

I’m baaaaccckkkk…..

(totally did not know how to write that, but hope you all get it).  So I can’t believe it is the year 2011.  Some I know will be preparing for all that 2012-end of the world crap…but this Wit is believing in the inevitability of world-wide spiritual awakening, enlightenment, and a new karmic wonder evolving in the universe….

and of course some red shoes….

like these Miss Me satin Jimmy Choo knock-offs….
and this Valentino red chiffon gown to go with them….

Add this garnet ring by Suzanne Felsen and I’m ready for V-Day already!

Home and Dry

Tags

1970s music, 70s, Gerry Rafferty, Home and Dry, inspiration, lyrics, Music, Obituaries, people, singers, song lyrics, songs, songwriters

Mr. C and were running errands yesterday and I heard one of my favorite songs, Home and Dry by Gerry Rafferty.  It seems this song, from my school days, from an album my friend and I played over and over again, was on the local classic rock station’s cycle of song play for the past month or so because I’ve heard this song at least twice a week for a few weeks now.  I never get tired of it.

So hearing it yesterday set yet another warm spell in my heart, singing along, picturing the clouds, and a pure ride back to a loved one.  There’s  a great story in that song, from this great song-writer.

I wondered what had happened to him occasionally. Then yesterday on World News I am told that Gerry Rafferty died at age 63 in Dorset, England.  His obit says he had complications with his liver and kidneys.  I was saddened tremendously, especially after hearing the song that very day….and singing it out so brilliantly.

That Baker’s Street album, and such songs as Right Down the Line along with Home and Dry will live on despite this loss of talent.  The loss of Gerry will hang with me for some time, especially if I keep hearing this song.

This silver bird takes me ‘cross the sky.
Just one more hour and I’ll be home and dry.
‘Cross the ocean
Way above the clouds
I come stealin’.

I gotta see you
I gotta be with you
We’ll make it better now
In every way.

It’s gotta be you
It’s gotta be you…
Yes, from now on I’ll tell you everyday….

Ooh, yes home and dry

Hope you are home and dry now Gerry.
Peace to you….wherever you are….

Reverting to Type Exhibition in London

Tags

Art, artists, Culture, letterpress, miscellaneous, poster art, prints, quotes, saying, typographers, typography, Writing

Poster by typographer and graphic designer Carl Middleton, UK

On December 10th London’s Standpoint Gallery brought together a wide variety of prints and publications–an ode to the letterpress, which is on a resurgence of late in the art world.   Here, some of my favorites…

Poster by typography collective, Ocassional Print Club, UK

Poster by printmaker, Brad Vetter, USA

Richard Ardagh and New North Press

Poster by Rosa De Carlo, UK

Caresse Crosby…a part of Anais Nin’s diary…

Tags

1930s, 1940s, Anais Nin, bras, brassiere, Caresse Crosby, Harry Crosby, History, literature, New York City, people, quotes, stories, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

“Party at Kay de San Faustino’s and Yves Tanguy’s.  Caresse Crosby enters with the bouyancy of a powder puff, a caressing voice (was this how she gained the nickname of Caresse from Harry Crosby?), her fur hat, her eyelashes, her smile all glittery with animation.  The word on her lips is always yes, and all her being says yes yes yes to all that is happening and all that is offered her.  She trails behind her, like a plume of a peacock, a fabulous legend.  She ran the Black Sun Press in Paris, lived in a converted windmill, knew D.H. Lawrence, Ezra Pound, Andre Breton, painters, writers.  At the Quartre Arts Ball she once rode a horse as Lady Godiva.

The life of certain women dresses them in anecdotes which become more visible than fur coats or silk dresses.  Stories surround Caresse like a perfume, a necklace, a feather.  She always seems fresher and younger than all the women there, because of her mobility, ease, flowingness.  D. H. Lawrence would have called it her “livingness.”  A pollen carrier, I thought, as she mixed, stirred, brewed, concocted her friendships by a constant flux and reflux of activity, by curiosity, avidity, amorousness.”

This was just a nice descriptive piece that I read last night in Anais Nin’s Diary, book three, 1939-1944.  Anais had just arrived in New York City from war-torn Paris, and was deeply homesick for her favorite city and all her friends. The the recent publication of her book, Winter of Artifice had made her well-known, and invitations began flowing to her, like this one she mentions at Kay de San Faustino’s.  This was in the winter of 1939.

A note on the subject matter. Caresse Crosby was married to Harry Crosby, a famous poet and writer, and the two were quite promiscuous, which is an understatement to say the least, in their married life, known for their partying, affairs (seven in bed at one time), drug use…basically they would make any current Hollywood celeb’s grandiose activities seem like child’s play. Harry Crosby died tragically in a double suicide pact (or so it is thought)  with one of his lovers years before this was written, and may be one of the “stories” that “surround Caresse like a perfume, a necklace, a feather” as quoted above by Anais. Caresse’s real name was Mary Phelps Jacobs and she was known for inventing the bra.  Just love discovering little pieces of history like this.

 

Remembering Jim Croce

Tags

artists, History, Jim Croce, Music, people, poetry, songs, Time in a Bottle

Born January 10, 1943
Jim Croce

The Wit Continuum remembers the great artist, songwriter, singer from the 70s,
the ever-warm in our memory Jim Croce.  I remember as a kid hearing his songs,
over and over again on the radio, my Dad singing Bad, Bad Leroy Brown in the car,
myself memorizing the lyrics to Time in A Bottle. I also remember hearing about
his death in a plane crash and being heart-broken. Some things you never forget.

Here’s to Jim,
Happy Birthday
where ever you are…

Now I’m off to You Tube to listen to Time in A Bottle…just for Jim.
Peace…

Poetry…more like stories…on Tuesday

Tags

artists, Books, cats, Charles Bukowski, funerals, hearse, John Fante, life, literature, poems, poetry, stories, Writers, Writing

So I like these two poems by the “laureate of American low life” Charles Bukowski.  Because of the way he writes them they seem more like stories to me, short, short pieces that take you somewhere and bring you back again.   He was brilliant in his own way. Bukowski’s subject, his late friend and fellow writer, John Fante.   Just thought I’d share a few here on Tuesday. I’ve written the first out like prose, just because I wanted to.

Peace…

 

John Fante photo by Los Angeles Times

 

 

one writer’s funeral

there was a rock-and-mud slide on the Pacific Coast Highway and we had to take a detour and they directed us up into the Malibu hill and traffic was slow and it was hot, and the we were lost.

but I spotted a hearse and said, “there’s the hearse, we’ll follow it,” and my woman said, “that’s not the hearse,” and I said, “yes, that’s the hearse.”

 

the hearse took a left and I followed it as it went up a narrow dirt road and then pulled over and I thought, “he’s lost too.”  there was a truck and a man selling strawberries parked there and I pulled over and asked where the church was and he gave me directions and my woman told the strawberry man, “we’ll buy some strawberries on the way back.”  then I swung onto the road and the hearse started up again and we continued to drive along until we reached that church.

 

we were going to the funeral of a great man but the crowd was very sparse:  the family, a couple of old screenwriter friends, two or three others.  we spoke to the family and to the wife of the deceased and then we went in and the service began and the priest wasn’t so good but one of the great man’s sons gave a fine eulogy, and then it was over and we were outside again, in our car, following the hearse again, back down the steep road passing the strawberry truck again and my woman said, “let’s not stop for strawberries,” and as we continued to the graveyard, I thought, Fante, you were one of the best writers ever and this is one sad day.  finally we were at the graveside, the priest said a few words and then it was over.  I walked up to the widow who sat very pale and beautiful and quite alone on a folding metal chair.  “Hank,” she said, “it’s hard,” and I tried in vain to say something that might comfort her.

 

we walked away then, leaving her there, and I felt terrible.

 

I got a friend to drive my girlfriend back to town while I drove to the racetrack, made it just in time for the first race, got my bet down as the mutuel clerk looked at me in wonder and said, “Jesus Christ, how come you’re wearing a necktie?”

_______________________________________________

the wine of forever

re-reading some of Fante’s
The Wine of Youth
in bed
this mid-afternoon
my big cat
BEAKER
asleep beside me.

the writing of some
men
is like a vast bridge
that carries you
over
the many things
that claw and tear.

Fante’s pure and magic
emotions
hang on the simple
clean
line.

that this man died
one of the slowest and
most horrible deaths
that I ever witnessed or
heard
about…

the gods play no
favorites.
I put the book down
beside me.

book on one side,
cat on the
other…

John, meeting you,
even the way it
was was the event of my
life.  I can’t say
I would have died for
you.  I couldn’t have handled
it that well.

but it was good to see you
again
this
afternoon.

 

Wednesday’s snow…

Tags

Art, crazy, Culture, Current events, inspiration, Italy, life, miscellaneous, musings, New York, Paris, Photography, photos, snow, snow day, snow days, teens, Venice, winter

Well, I’d like to say that today’s snow has me down…but instead it has me feeling pretty good, a bit nostalgic in a way, thinking back to the younger days, waiting for school cancellations or delays, and clearing a path down the side-walk because I didn’t want to have to wear boots to school. We got the edge of that coastal thing that crept up the eastern seaboard last night…a good six inches for the Wit today.  It seems that winter is officially here for me…perhaps some of you may think this is crazy if you’ve had more snow than me, but in any case Wednesday is officially a winter snow day.  Here I’d like to share my three favorite cities…with snow….

Love this wonderful shot from New York today via Decoding NYC.

Snow in Venice image found on Italy Heaven.

And this creative image called Snow in Paris via Trekearth.com

Peace…

Fresh and Fifi

Tags

Art, artists, black dresses, blogs, Culture, drawings, fashion, fashion illustration, funny, Girl in the Black Dress, Illustration, painting, Paris, women

Found the cutest Parisian influenced art by Fifi Flowers Design.

 

Theme Post: Chocolate

Tags

Books, chocolate, Culture, dogs, fashion, Film, funny, Ghiradelli, History, Hot for Chocolate, inspiration, jewelry, literature, martini, memories, Mercedes, movies, musings, phones, Rolex, thoughts, vintage

I should probably save this post for closer to Valentine’s Day….romance aside, this vintage rotary phone in chocolate is the inspiration for it all…I must go on…

One of my most favorite romantic movies, Chocolat, starring Juliette Binoche and Johnny Depp…pure sexy….and delicious….I remember having to take a small box of chocolates to see this movie. I said: I’m not sitting through a movie called Chocolat without eating chocolate….and I did.

And why not rent said movie and have a chocolate martini while enjoying….?

Another love: Le Vian chocolate diamonds….

A pretty cool read….movie version not too bad either.

Chocolate and diamond Rolex….pure luxury….

Diane Von Furstenberg chocolate brown suede clogs…my feet are happy…

Tell me, tell me! What is cuter than a chocolate Lab puppy?

I could live in this the rest of the PA winter.

My favorite nail polish: Revlon’s Hot for Chocolate.

Who thought they made chocolate colored cars anymore? This 2010 Mercedes in cuprite brown looks good enough to eat…of course I may die trying…then I’d end up here perhaps….

Heaven.

 

Tags

History, Martin Luther King, MLK, Music, music video, U2, Video

“Everybody can be great…You only need a heart full of grace,
a soul generated by love.”  -  Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Peace…where ever you are….

Idea

Tags

Art, artists, blogs, Culture, dream, Gnostic, Gnostics, goddess, History, Idea, inspiration, muse, musings, myths, Psyche, religion, Sophia, spirit, spiritual, spirituality, women

We are perhaps living in dream…and from where do our ideas surge….where do they come from….is there some root, some esoteric origin of thought…a genesis?

Idea: “Inner-Goddess,” by definition. Occult tradition said an idea emanated from the female soul of the world, named Shakti, Shekina, Psyche, or Sophia amoung others.  Her “ideas” were sparks, like a personal muse, “which forms she did in the Heavens above the Stars frame to herself.”

Medieval theologians disliked the Idea’s feminine connotations and instead replaced the feminine “idea” with the masculine “concept” which used to mean the same as conception, from Latin concipere semina, a gathering-up of semen.

Early Christian Gnostics regarded God the Creator as a child of a Mother who created all in his mind, gave him all his “ideas” to make his claim in the material world.  He claimed all these ideas to be his own, ignorant of the very source of inspiration and not acknowledging it.  This notion of course was deemed heretical by the orthodox church to which they forced the adherents to change their minds.

This leaves us where?  Still in wonder as to where and idea comes from….but always thankful that this spirit of idea lives in us all…

Image: Sophia by Saiaii at Deviant Art.
Article source: Book of Myths and Secrets

Nothing new on Wednesday…except new snow….

Tags

blogging, blogs, Culture, Current events, I Love Snow, inspiration, life, love, Nothing, Nothing New, snow, snow day, thoughts, wednesday, winter, wisdom, women, women writers, words, Writing

Well, I have nothing new today, no new thoughts, no new words, no wisdom to impart. LOL. (As if I’m your source of wisdom?)
But I have new snow, and a bit of ice mixed in from early this morning and my world looks like this.  It’s beautiful.
This Wit officially loves winter!  Plus, no humidity to mess up my hair!

While My Guitar Gently Weeps…..

Tags

Across the Universe, artists, Beatles, blogs, Film, love, movie scene, movies, Music, music video, music videos, musings, poetry, rock music, songs, Video

Across the Universe, a romp through torrential times of  the 60s and early 70s featuring Beatles music throughout, is one of my favorite musical films. Recently I took another look at this movie, and the profoundness of it relapsed onto me, into me.  Here, my fave part of the film:

Truth Beauty

Tags

actresses, beauty, blogging, blogs, Culture, Facebook, fashion, hollywood, John Keats, literature, love, Marion Cotillard, people, poems, poetry, quotes, snow, women

Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty–

that is all you know on earth,

and all you need to know.

-John Keats

Again, the Wit is digging out of snow today.
But thought I’d share some beauty of another
kind on this Friday.

And yes, I finally broke down, with much
encouragement from Continuum teen members:
Check out my new Facebook page, click like,
join me, leave a comment or link.

Winter Reading: Under the Dome

Tags

blogs, book reviews, Books, Culture, fiction, horror, literature, novels, reading, scary stories, science fiction, Stephen King, stories, supernatural fiction, suspense, Under the Dome, winter, winter reading, Writers, Writing

So it is a long winter for the Wit Continuum, and what better way to pass the long cold dark nights than reading the latest Stephen King book, Under the Dome.  The perfection: this book is 1072 pages long….did I mention it was long? The premise of this story that Mr. King has had in mind since 1976 goes like this: An invisible dome covers a small town and its inhabitants and what happens in the time afterward when this community is cut off literally from the rest of the world. Interesting note: two people can talk  through this clear barrier and hear each other easily, yet it will stop anything from passing through, including 60 mile an hour traveling vehicles.

So far in the beginning what I’ve read is: one woodchuck cut in half, one small plane crash with body parts falling around, one horrifying murder in detail, one 18-wheeler carrying a trailer of tree logs smashing into edge of dome and bursting into flames, one decapitate deer, and one poor woman who bleeds to death in her husband’s arms after losing her right hand…all due to the dropping of this invisible dome over a small town in Maine by forces yet to be revealed…and it may take a long time for said forces to be revealed I think.  In any case, this Wit is totally intrigued so far. Not all the text is mayhem, and the introduction of characters is flawless, as per Stephen King-ism, and as many Constant Readers will attest to.  I give myself three weeks to get this one under the belt. Will update more later. If you’ve read it, let me know what you thought without spoiling the events and ending. Thanks.

Found this interesting web-site dedicated to the book. Check it out if interested. Link

Beds to Adore…

Tags

Art, bed, bedroom design, bedrooms, decor, decorating, Design, furniture, inspiration, interior design, iron beds, life, love, rest, romance, romantic, sleep, spirals

Though I feel essentially well-rested, these inspire me to dive in and …. sleep…

I have a passion for iron beds….and the spirals are perfection here…

Slim Paley’s comfy Sun Valley bedroom makes one wish to retire early tonight….

A girl’s fantasy….

Romance found at Lilac Silhouette.

And a final bed….a dream-like canopy….

Peace…

We fill the cup of truth…

Tags

Art, being human, blogging, Culture, forgetting, Illustration, inspiration, life, life's journey, love, musings, myths, remembering, spirituality, thoughts, truth, words

“What can I do to always remember who I really am?” – Juan Ramon Jiminez

Most of our time is spent searching, looking for ways to discover who we really are. We continually run into mountains, cross rivers, search the far seas, fall into the arms of strangers, all to be shaken into remembering.  And some of us try to lead simpler lives, hoping to practice how not to forget.  But part of our journey is this forgetting and this remembering.  It is a special part of what makes us human.

So what can we do?  Well, it is no secret that slowness remembers and hurry forgets; that softness remembers and hardness forgets; that surrender remembers and fear forgets.

It is beautifully difficult to remember who we really are.  But we help each other every time we fill the cup of truth and hold each other up after drinking from it.

I gathered these inspiring words from The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo.

Share your inspiration. What keeps you remembering who you really are?

 

Image: Our cup of Tea by Anhdres

Red Riding Hood – movie trailer

Tags

Amanda Seyfried, Books, fairy tales, Film, literature, Little Red Riding Hood, movie trailers, movies, Movies 2011, new movies, Red Riding, stories, Tales, twilight, werewolves, wolf, wolves

Catherine Hardwicke’s sexy and violent adaptation of Little Red Riding Hood, called Red Riding Hood, hits theaters on March 11, 2011. This Wit will be there, as my love for various fairy tales is known, and the fairy-tale re-told has a special interest for me.  From this Screencrave article I’ve read, it seems that Hardwicke is clinging to her Twilight roots, and this film reflects that (without vampires, of course).  That’s okay with us here at The Wit Continuum.  The original of the Twilight series was by far the best.  Kudos to C.H.

The cast for Red Riding Hood includes Amanda Seyfried (we love her) in the title character role.  Others include Gary Oldman, Lukas Haas, Virginia Madsen, Billy Burke, and Julie Christie as the grandmother.  Mmmmm……

http://screencrave.com/2011-01-21/new-trailer-for-catherine-hardwickes-red-riding/

The Wit’s latest page…

Tags

Art, artists, best of, blog posts, blogging, blogs, comments, Culture, fashion, fiction, funny, Girl in the Black Dress, History, hits, inspiration, literature, Louise Bourgeois, miscellaneous, musings, pages, people, Photography, posts, stories, Theresa Duncan, women, Writing

I have just finished a new page (see above) called The Best of The Wit Continuum.  It’s full of linked posts from the past that have reached the “best of” list due to elevated hits, responses, and just because I damn well like them!  If you are new to my blog this is a great place to start….if you visit regularly you may have forgotten some of these esoteric thoughts from the past two-and-a-half years.  Hope you enjoy taking a look…and leave a comments if you wish.

My highest hit post was about the creepy art of Louise Bourgeois. This was on June 1, 2010, the day she passed away at the age of 92.  She’s a piss…

Love and peace to all.

So, what is the thing with Stieg Larsson?

So I’m totally bored this Sunday afternoon…and can’t keep my mind into that Stephen King book I’m trying to read…so I found this interesting article about Stieg Larsson, author of The Girl With the Dragon Tatoo, which I have read…and finished, though I haven’t read the rest of the trilogy.  After reading the article, I’d say I don’t have to, but the story about Larsson’s life, how the books were written, and his views on life and women per say are quite interesting.

Why People Love Stieg Larsson’s Novels – The New Yorker

Iced in January…

Tags

blogs, Culture, digital photography, ice, icicles, miscellaneous, PA, Photography, photos, snow, weather

So we are surrounded by ice here in Pa, and I just thought I’d share some of the images I took Sunday afternoon…something about icicles fascinate me…and scare me at the same time…

photos © The Wit Continuum

D.

Tags

Art, artists, black dresses, blogging, blogs, Culture, fairy tales, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, Japan, Photography, Tales, teens, twilight, women

Great photography by one of my faves…Zemotion….

D.
Dark Angel
Forgotten Fairytales
Avatar
Summer II
© Zemotion

Snow on Tuesday

Tags

Art, artists, blogging, Culture, Current events, fashion, February, ice, inspiration, life, love, miscellaneous, musings, novel, novel writing, Photography, snow, snow storms, teens, thoughts, twilight, weather, winter, Writing

 

Snow Walk by Dream Traveler

 

So yet again, we are inundated with snow…and this is only the first wave on Tuesday….with more snow and ice tonight into Wednesday….It seems like every week there is a new weather event…but it is winter….and even though I’m not looking forward to that ice, I still am liking the season….Well, it is February now….winter is running out perhaps…

And so after blogging…and writing work on my new novel…and chipping away at what is covering my lovely car, I may be doing this….

Fanus II by Cren

or….not….

Peace….

Groundhog Day

Tags

Culture, Current events, German traditions, Groundhog Day, holidays, ice, inspiration, life, miscellaneous, musings, myths, PA, Pennsylvania, Punxsatawney Pa, Punxsatawney Phil, rodents, shadows, snow, spring, storms, traditions, weather, Weird in Pa, winter

Yeah, so we live in Pennsylvania, and the half of us think this is such a stupid thing…though it makes one wonder how a day, which is not a holiday that celebrates a country’s liberation, a religious saint, a religious holiday, a famous person who changed world, nor a President, could actually exist…and honor a rodent no less….but here we have it in western PA, Groundhog Day.

I’m not sure if this is a nationwide celebration, or if anyone from other parts of the world know of this holiday…strange. Perhaps Katie can let us know if you guys down under have ever heard of this furball, Punxsatawny Phil.  These top-hatted dudes get up way before sunrise in Punxsatawny, Pa,  and hoist the sad little creature from his well cared for domain (meaning cage) and see if he sees his shadow.  How does one know if the rodents sees his shadow?  It is a mystery, a mysterious mystery that only handler John Griffiths is keen to I’m sure. I’ve heard that the 14 members of Phil’s club are the ones that decide our mysterious fate.  If the rodent see his shadow, we get 6 more weeks of winter, if not, an early spring is forecast.

This Pa tradition is based on an old German superstition that if a hibernating animal comes out on Feb. 2, a holiday called Candlemas, and sees his shadow there will be 6 more weeks of winter.  Well, today, February 2, 2011, Phil officially did not see his shadow, which could be due to the rain, sleet, and snow, and constant cloud cover we are experiencing today due to that double wammy storm.  Very mysterious….

In any case, I love animals in general, and even though I call him a rodent, I think he’s darn cute.  I think these stupid top-hatted guys are pretty cool anyway, and admire the tradition, strange though it is, which is perhaps why I admire it, and all those people who fight the cold and weather and come out in wee hours of the morning on this one day a year, without liquor mind you, it’s a dry celebration by law, and see Phil make his appearance.  What can I say? I love the weird in Pa.

And, this means we get spring in a few weeks!!

Ah, fat chance people….

Love the movie Groundhog Day with Bill Murray. Very funny, and brought fame to this strange little sort of kinda almost holiday.

Peace…and Happy Groundhog Day.

Valentines….

Tags

Art, artists, blogging, blogs, Culture, Danny Roberts, drawings, fashion, figure drawing, holidays, Igor+Andre, Illustration, inspiration, life, love, models, painting, teens, Valentine's Day, women

Valentine ‘Love’ illustrations by Igor+Andre

Character, atmosphere…

Tags

1940s, Anais Nin, artists, blogs, Books, Culture, diaries, diary, funny, History, life, literature, myths, New York, non-fiction, people, quotes, stories, teens, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

 

First a quote:

“It isn’t good to stay too long in the polluted air of history.”- Anais Nin

I love this excerpt from The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume Three.

It is taken from text written in April, 1940, when she lived in New York.

“I rented a furnished apartment on Washington Square West.  The Village has character, atmosphere.  The houses are old, the shops small.  In the Square old Italians play chess on stone tables.  There are trees, patios, back yards.  It has a history.  The university was built by the Dutch.  I love the ginko trees, the studio windows, the small theaters, Blecker Street with its vegetable carts, fish shops, cheese shops.  It is human.  People stroll about.  They sit in the park.

My bed is convertible, which means it vanishes into a closet.  I am always afraid it will do this while I am asleep.”

 

Fashion Friday

Tags

bohemian, bohemian clothes, bohemian fashion, bohemian style, clothes, fashion, models, teens, women

Well it is absolutely sunny here today, for a change, for the time being (meaning just for today) and so this Wit is feeling springy, and fashionably boho inspired….

Love these shoes….ah, the whole outfit…

And the colors here…

For more boho style and taste visit Bohemian Girl.

Inception…finally gets some notice…

Tags

Culture, Current events, fiction, Film, Inception, Leonardo DiCaprio, literature, Marion Cotillard, movies, Sci-fi, science fiction, screenwriters, screenwriting, Social Network, Writers Guild Awards

My favorite movie of 2010 finally gets some much deserved recognition…

Inception and Social Network Win Writers Guild Awards

Inception won for best original screenplay. The Social Network for adapted screenplay.

Glad that Chris Nolan was very gracious. He mentions however that the award would have meant more if certain other screenplays had been nominated (meaning The King’s Speech?).  Anyway, this Wit is happy for him, and for the well-written movie starring two of my favorite actors: Leonardo DiCaprio and Marion Cotillard.

Tags

Art, blogs, body, Culture, earth, inspiration, laughter, life, love, poems, poetry, Rumi, spirituality, sunlight, teens, thoughts, twilight, women, Writing

i am sunlight slicing the dark
who make this night?
a forge deep in the earth-mud.

what is the body?
endurance.

what is love?
gratitude

what is hidden
in our chests?
laughter.

what else?
compassion.

 

–from all rivers at once by Rumi
image: Monique by shimoda7

Feeling….white….

Tags

Art, Books, Culture, fairy tales, fashion, life, literature, love, miscellaneous, models, Peonies, people, Photography, shoes, snow, Snow White, Tales, teens, The Beatles, Vogue, white, white sand, white wine, white wolf, wolf, Writing

More snow yet again today…feeling like this…
This is my favorite arctic wolf shot by Jim Brandenburg …loving the white…

When warmed up these will be great…Michael Kors sandals.

Karen Elson and Jack White…

 

Italian vogue…

 

a favorite store…

Snow White by Melyannam at Deviant Art

And we’re back in the white snow again….

 

 

 

 

Latest creations…

Tags

Art, artists, blogs, drawing, faces, fashion, fashion illustration, figure drawing, Illustration, miscellaneous, painting, portraits, teens, watercolor, watercolor art, women

I really should get these on the page…

Clemence© 2011The Wit Continuum

Zem © 2011 The Wit Continuum

Clemence was done with watercolor and Zem, black pen with water color. Enjoy…

Tags

blogging, blogs, Books, flowers, freesom, inspiration, life, literature, love, miscellaneous, musings, myths, people, Photography, poetry, quotes, snow, thoughts

Snow Flower   ©2011 NaViGa7or

Just living is not enough.  One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.
- Hans Christian Anderson

Fashion Friday – Red

Tags

Art, artists, Carey Mulligan, celestial objects, Culture, dresses, fashion, fashion friday, Film, Girl in the Black Dress, Julianne Moore, Karen Elson, Kate Moss, Maria Callas, models, movies, myths, people, Photography, plaid, red, red carpet, red clothes, red plaid, Sasha Pivovarova, Teresa Palmer, Valentine, Valentine's Day

Teresa Palmer in red plaid….vogue….

Carey Mulligan looking adorable in this cinched red jacket…Valentine-esque….

Kate Moss + Red dress = envy

Sasha Pivovarova as Maria Callas….breathtaking…

and fabulous red heads…Julianne Moore….and Karen Elson….

 

 

Tags

beauty, blogging, blogs, Current events, fashion, fashion designers, inspiration, life, love, miscellaneous, models, musings, myths, philosophy, Photography, quotes, spirituality, teens, thoughts, twilight, wit, women

Even though I’ve been under the weather this week, I did have time to do this:
Wit + Beauty

(bookmark it if you wish…)

 

Black Dress XVI

Tags

Alexa Chung, beauty, black dresses, clothes, dresses, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, life, miscellaneous, models, people, women

Black Dress #15 for Fashion Friday
Alexa Chung
(and I love her hair!)

Head Strong…an amazing story…

Tags

articles, blogs, brain damage, brain injuries, Culture, Current events, fashion, funny, inspiration, inspiring stories, life, love, miscellaneous, Nancy Jarecki, people, recovery, Vogue, women

Wanted to share this amazing and inspiring story I read in Vogue last month….

Photographed by Jonathan Becker

A lot of people have said that 2009 must have been a horrific year for me. It certainly changed me. I have short hair. I’m a little lankier now. I no longer have the taste for meat. Or Magnolia cupcakes. Or Twizzlers. And I’ve had four brain operations.

Such a small percentage of people make it through a brain aneurysm (my neurosurgeon told me that 50 percent typically die, and the rest either have permanent brain damage or some sort of deficit. Only 5 percent have an amazing outcome like mine). Everybody wants to know what led up to it. “Did you have bad headaches?” “Blurred vision?” “What were the symptoms?” Nobody really knows anything about the brain until something bad happens to it.

More…

This says it all…

Tags

Anne Sexton, artists, blogs, inspiration, life, literature, musings, myths, people, poems, poetry, poetry slam, quotes, spirituality, Video, women, words

My business is words. Words are like labels,
or coins, or better, like swarming bees.
I confess I am only broken by the sources of things;
as if words were counted like dead bees in the attic,
unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings.
I must always forget how one word is able to pick
out another, to manner another, until I have got
something I might have said…
but did not.

Your business is watching my words.  But I
admit nothing.

– from Said the Poet to the Analyst
by Anne Sexton

 

Push

In Memory of George….

Tags

Art, artists, Beatles, birthdays, blogs, Culture, George Harrison, inspiration, love, memory, Music, music history, music videos, musicians, poems, poetry, Something, songs, videos, women

Happy Birthday to George Harrison…one of the best of all time…

Five Fave Films Of 2010 NOT Nominated for an Oscar (via filmdrift)

Tags

Academy Awards, Film, Ghost Writer, Let me In, literature, movies, Oscars

Found the films here interesting too. Some of the best always seem to get missed.

By my count, there are 41 movies vying for an Oscar on February 27th. This includes all of the award categories such as best picture, best editing, best documentary, best makeup, etc., but does not include short film nominees. (Sorry, I didn’t see any of those.) I’ve listed all 41 of the nominated films at the end of this article. … Read More

via filmdrift

Klepto-Cat…

Tags

blogs, cats, Culture, funny, Video, you tube

Saw this on Animal Planet’s Must Love Cats episode this weekend….

More reading….

Tags

Arthur Golden, blogs, book reviews, Books, Culture, fiction, Film, geisha, History, inspiration, Japan, Japanese, life, literature, love, Memoirs of a Geisha, movies, novels, stories, Tales, teens, Writers, Writing

So after putting down that monstrosity of a Stephen King book (Under the Dome, in case you all forgot) I moved on to one of my library book sale finds, a book I always had in mind to read but never did.  I know this is an older book, and the movie was out in 2005 I believe…what can I say?  The book was fascinating.

I found myself totally engrossed in this breathtaking novel. The description and fine detail that Arthur Golden produces in Memoirs of a Geisha centers one’s mind in the time and place presented.  I fell in love with the main character, and of course, felt a bit of anger with her situation, but  I stayed entranced and on edge with what would happen next.  Throughout the story we learn of this main character’s love for one man who showed a kindness to her as a young girl…and we wait the entire book for that secret to come out, for that all-encompassing moment when he realizes it was her, and she shows him the handkerchief he’d given her, that she’d kept close to her for over 15 years…and unfortunately this is where the story fell flat for me.  I guess it was within the last 20 pages or so….sad really.  I waited for the moment, waited….waited….and the characters jumbled on with talk so much the moment just sort of came and went without this reader’s emotions charged.  Perhaps this was the author’s intention, or I missed something in my eagerness….

The book also takes us a bit through the rough times the Japanese people faced during WW II, the lack of food and essentials for living, but I felt Golden kept the tragedy of such a time at a distance without much impact.  The atom bombs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were not even mentioned, and I find it quite hard to believe that no one in Kyoto would have even spoken about these disasters…Surely I wouldn’t have wanted this stunning tale to turn into a war story, but still, a little more would have made the time more haunting and substantial in a reader’s memory.

But all in all:  Enthralling.

Zero Hour…simply nothing…

Tags

Culture, despair, hour, inspiration, life, love, musings, myths, people, Photography, poems, poetry, spirituality, Stephen Dunn, zero

Zero Hour
It was the hour of simply nothing,
not a single desire in my western heart,
and no ancient system
of breathing and postures,
no big idea justifying what I felt.

There was even an absence of despair.

“Anything goes,” I said to myself.
All the clocks were high. Above them,
hundreds of stars flickering if, if, if.
Everywhere in the universe, it seemed,
some next thing was gathering itself.

I started to feel something,
but it was nothing more than a moment
passing into another, or was it less
eloquent than that, purely muscular,
some meaningless twitch?

I’d let someone else make it rhyme.
– Stephen Dunn

Link: whiskey river

photo: my twilight dream

Like this place…

Tags

Art, artists, blogging, blogs, Culture, funny, inspiration, life, love, newspaper blackout, newspapers, poems, poetry, quotes, stories, Writers

Newspaper Blackout Horoscope March

The creativity of Austin Kleon is inspirational…click link above for his great work with Newspaper Blackout, and get a unique view of your March Horoscope.

The Key to knowing Joy….and I don’t mean some woman with red hair…

Tags

awakening, belief, blogs, Books, Culture, funny, God, God is Everywhere, happiness, I'm the center of the fucking universe, inspiration, joy, life, love, Mark Nepo, miscellaneous, musings, people, poems, poetry, religion, thoughts, Writers, Writing

An excerpt from The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo

{Comments from The Wit Continuum in parenthesis}

So many of us have been trained to think that being particular about what we want is indicative of good taste, and that not being satisfied unless our preferences are met is a sign of worldliness and sophistication. I remember being at a party where a woman wouldn’t accept her drink unless it was made with a certain brand of vermouth. She was, in fact, indignant about it. Or going to dinner with a colleague who had to have his steak prepared in a complex and special way, as if this particular need to be different was his special public signature.  Or watching very intelligent men and women inscribe their circle of loneliness with criteria for companionship that no one could meet.  I used to maintain such a standard of excellence around the sort of art I found acceptable.{Not me, frankly, I’m not that particular at all…and I find myself at ease with life being this way and enjoy many things…}

Often, this kind of discernment is seen as having high standards, when in actuality it is only a means of isolating ourselves from being touched by life, while rationalizing that we are more special than those who can’t meet our very demanding standards.

The devastating truth is that excellence can’t hold you in the night, and, as I learned when ill, being demanding or sophisticated won’t help you survive.  A person dying of thirst doesn’t ask if the water has chlorine or if it was gathered in the foothills of France. {Seriously, I know a few who would do this…}

Yet, to be accepting of the life that comes our way does not mean denying its difficulties and disappointments.  Rather, it means that joy can be found even in hardship, not by demanding that we be treated as special at every turn, but through accepting the demand of the sacred that we treat everything that comes our way as special.

Still, we are taught to develop preferences as signs of importance and position.  In fact, those who have no preferences, those who are accepting of whatever is placed before them, are often seen as simpletons or bumpkins.  However, there is a profound innocence in the fact that sages and children alike are easily pleased with what each day gifts them.{I know more people who are never satisfied, this or that is not good enough unless it comes from as far away as possible or is as expensive as it could possible be….tiring really…}

The further I wake into this life, the more I realize that God is everywhere and the extraordinary is waiting quietly beneath the skin of all that in ordinary.   Light is in both the broken bottle and the diamond, and music is in both the flowing violin and the water dripping from the drainage pipe.  Yes, God is under the porch as well as on top of the mountain, and joy is in both the front row and the bleachers, if we are willing to be where we are.

{Are you willing to be where you are?  Can you find joy in the small things set before you?  Or are you one of those complainers, thinking this is what makes me special, the world must change for me, I’m the center of the fucking universe?}

photo: graffiti decorative bathroom tiles by Dan Krusi.

Free fallin’….yeah, I’m free fallin’…

Tags

Art, artists, black and white, blogs, France, inspiration, life, literature, love, Music, Paris, Photography, photos, poems, Robert Doisneau

photo: Robert Doisneau

Enchanted?…

Tags

enchantment, fashion, inspiration, life, love, miscellaneous, models, musings, mystical, Photography, poems, quotes, spirituality, teens, thoughts, twilight, women, women writers, Writing

“What,” you say, “me, enchanted?” Yes, I say, and don’t be so surprised. You were born with a mystical purpose…In reading this now you might remember what it is.”

- Marianne Williamson
A Woman’s Worth

photo: IIEE

In a Station of the Metro

Tags

crowd, Ezra Pound, faces, inspiration, life, miscellaneous, myths, people, Photography, poems, poetry, quotes, thoughts, twilight

The apparition of these faces in the crowd,

Petals on a wet, black bough.

-Ezra Pound
1916

photo: chantepleure

i don’t know why…

Tags

bowl of keys, crumbs, dream, dreams, inspiration, key, keys, life, musings, Photography, poems, poetry, spirituality, stories, Tales, teens, thoughts, twilight, Writing

…last night i dreamed of a bowl of a bowl of keys…

What could it mean?…………

 

photos: Big Keys  by  Eyster Aeg

Key Chains  by hertbonfaroff

Any Key Will Do   by SparrowLP

Key II   by Impure Heart

Keys   by  AwaitingDawn

Tags

change, fairy tales, fashion, inspiration, life, love, miscellaneous, musings, myths, people, Photography, poems, poetry, spirituality, teens, twilight, women, women writers, Writing

Some women love to wait for life, for a ring in the June light, for a touch of the sun to heal them, for another woman’s voice to make them whole, to untie their hands, put words in their mouths, form to their passages, sound to their screams, for some other sleeper to remember their future, their past.

Some women wait for themselves around the next corner and call the empty spot peace, but the opposite of living is only not living, and the stars do not care.

Some women wait for something to change, and nothing does change, so they change themselves.

 

from Stations (1986) by Audre Lorde (1934-1992)

Image: My Twilight Dream

Store window philosophy…

Tags

Art, blogs, Culture, dreams, goals, inspiration, life, love, miscellaneous, musings, philosophy, spirituality, windows, Writing

via: Handle with Care

Tags

Art, artists, blogs, blue, cats, Cats in Art, cool, drawing, Illustration, illustrators, inspiration, moon, painting, people, Roger Olmos, Spanish Artists

Check out Spanish illustrator Roger Olmos for some inspiration today….

More later….

the 60s…

Tags

1960s, 60s, Art, blogs, fashion, inspiration, life, love, miscellaneous, Photography, women

Just love the 60s…and these awesome photos at So60s…

Violets, violets, violets….

Tags

Art, artists, colette, Culture, enchantment, flowers, inspiration, literature, love, miscellaneous, musings, mysterious, myths, people, Photography, poems, poetry, snow, spirituality, spring, stories, twilight, violets, wild, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

“I can see meadows, deep woods, which the first outburst of buds mists over with an elusive green, cold streams, forgotten springs drunk up by the sand as soon as they are born,….and violets, violets, violets….

…I can see a silent girl whom spring had already enchanted with wild happiness, with a bittersweet and mysterious joy….

…Short-stemmed violets, white violets and blue violets, and white-blue violets veined with mauve mother-of-pearl, big enemic cowslip violets, which raise their pale odorless corollas on long stems….

…February violets, blooming beneath the snow, ragged-edged, burned with frost, ugly, poor fragrant little things…

…O violets of my childhood!  You rise up before me, all of you, you lattice the milky April sky, and the quivering of your countless little faces intoxicates me…”

******

This post is dedicated to my mother, the queen of violets.  Forever in my house growing up there were various pots of African Violets throughout, adorning every window sill that faced the sun.  When they became too thick she would divide of flowers and re-plant them, and somehow, always, these little purple miracles would start to grow….Sometimes she’d give them away…as gifts for no reason at all….Today, she still is the queen of violets, but presently only a few sturdy plants adorn her kitchen window, the watering of which is my job this month while she’s away in Florida…Seeing them warms my heart, and coming across these images did the same.  Reminders….memory….

The text with the images above was written by Colette, from a short piece called “The Last Fire.”

Image list:  Violets  by  Fearium

Violets…January   by  mechtaniya (the little girl is beautiful!)

Sweet Violets   by  TThealer

Violets   by  ierrepier

Violets   by  Coherence

 

Tags

blogs, Books, cosmic, Culture, fashion, inspiration, life, literature, love, meaning of life, myths, novel, Photography, quotes, spirituality, teens, thoughts, twilight, women, women writers, Writing

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life,  an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel,  a book for each person.  -  Anais Nin   {image via cosmic dust}

The skyline of New York…

Tags

Ayn Rand, cities, dusk, fashion, literature, New York, New York City, people, Photography, quotes, travel, twilight

“The skyline of New York is a monument of a splendor that no pyramids or palaces will ever equal or approach.” – Ayn Rand

Images: New York at Dusk by CatchMe-22 and  New York City  by Under-Milkwood

My gray contented pussycat…

Tags

Art, bohemain cat, bohemian, Books, cats, colette, life, literature, myths, people, Photography, poems, short stories, stories, Tales, teens, twilight

Don’t go to sleep, my gray contented pussycat, for my friend Valentine will soon ring the bell, make her entrance, swish about, and carry on.  She will run her gloved hand over your back, and your spine will shudder as you look at her with murderous eyes.  You know she really doesn’t like you very much, my short-haired country girl, she goes into ecstasies over Angoras, which have capes like collies and whiskers like Chauchard.  Ever since you scratched her that day, she keeps her distance; she knows nothing about your violent soul, delicate and vindictive, the soul of a bohemian cat.  As soon as she comes, turn your striped back to her, roll yourself up into a turban at my feet, on the satin scratched by your curved claws shaped like the thorns of a wild rosebush….Shhh! she rang….here she is! She shivers and haphazardly plants her icy little nose on my face – she kisses so poorly!    -   Colette, What Must We Look Like?

image: Toraman the Caddy by elifvargi

Green: Not just for St. Patrick’s Day

Tags

Art, blogs, catholic, Catholicism, Culture, Current events, earth, funny, green, History, hope, Illustration, inspiration, Islam, life, love, Napoleon Bonaparte, poetry, poison, roses, shamrock, St. Patrick's Day, stories, Venus

Found some things associated with the color green:

LOVE:  Green was a symbol of budding love in the Middle Ages.  The Romans associated green with Venus, goddess of love.

SYMBOL OF POISON:  Green dye used to be produced with copper and toxic arsenic.

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE’S favorite color:  His home on St. Helena had green wallpaper, paint and furniture.  He was poisoned by arsenic fumes from the green dye.

ISLAM:  The prophet Mohammed loved green and it became the holy color of Islam.

FERTILITY:  Osiris was a god in ancient Egypt; he was regarded as a source of Earth’s fertility.  Also called “The Great Green.”

CATHOLIC WORSHIP:  In 1570 Pope Pius V declared white, red, purple and green the colors of liturgy;
green symbolized hope.

 

Images:

Shamrock  by Matt Jenny
Atomic Water Bomb Green  by  Redevils
Masque of the Red Death: Green Room  by  Pimpdaddyhetser
Islam  by  Abdelghany
Elements – Earth  by  Cassiopeia Art
Green Like Hope  by  Lilyas

Alternate endings…

Tags

Art, Cartoons, comedy, funny, graphics, Illustration, Iron Man, Lord of the Rings, movies, Video, you tube

Love these little features brought to my attention by the Wit Continuum teen members…enjoy and great weekend to all…

 

 

Tags

blogging, blogs, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, inspiration, life, love, models, myths, teens, twilight, women

Wit + Beauty

freshly update…

Call for Creative Thinking…

My dear friend Raymon Grace has issued a Global Call for Creative Thinking….

for this evening, March 20, 2011 at 8 p.m. EST. Please think about spending  few

moments doing whatever you do to bring yourself into the spirit of the world.

There are no set parameters to do this. You can pray, meditate, dance, jog, laugh,

write, hug someone…whatever you wish, but think of how you’d like to see the

world globally when you do it.  This focus of many in unison brings a movement

in energy that is astonishing.  Read the Global call link above for more information,

and please consider joining in.  Here are some words by Faye to guide you:

Where ever you are we ask you to join us and feel the energy of wholeness within you. Feel joy, happiness, balance and wholeness, and from that place think about those people, places and things you want to send energy. The best way of creating peace is to be in a place of peace in your heart, so do something that brings joy and peace to you. As you think about it, visualize the earth and those you love, being vibrant, pure, in peace and balance, doing the things they choose to do in joy, with respect for all other beings and things; the air clear, clean and refreshing; the water sparkling as it plays over the rocks, crystal clear and a wonderful environment for fish and plants and people to frolic in and have fun; with each and every person being their most authentic self, taking full responsibility for their own life and having respect for all others. See each being living life to the fullest, being fully aware and conscious, enjoying each moment of our existence here on the earth in harmony with nature and with each other.
Peace…

Global Call for Creative Thinking…

Tags

blogs, community, creative thinking, creativity, Culture, Current events, earth, enlightenment, Global, inspiration, life, love, meditation, musings, peace, people, prayer, spirituality, teens, twilight, world

One of my dear friends Raymon Grace has posted a

Global Call for Creative Thinking

which is scheduled for this Sunday evening, March 20, 2011 at 8 pm. EST.

Please consider joining in for a few minutes in your own private space and do whatever is your groove to connect with the spirits of love, peace, forgiveness, and community.  For myself, I think of how I’d love to see the world, healed, with all people enlightened and working as one.  There are not set parameters here…just do whatever is comfortable for you:  prayer, meditation, exercise, dance, drumming, music, hugging someone you love….whatever!

Check the Global Call link above for the full run-down on this peaceful endeavor!

Peace…from The Wit Continuum

Reading…

Tags

Books, life, literature, miscellaneous, people, poems, poetry, poets, Stephen Dunn, Writing

Reading Stephen Dunn….

Fascination: Spiral Staircases…

Tags

architecture, Art, Design, inspiration, life, movies, myths, Photography, poems, poetry, portals, spiral staircase, spiral staircases, spirals, spirituality, staircase, stairs, twilight, Writing

Stuck on the Stair Case

What heavenly portals we enter…

I felt I was climbing up a spiral staircase,
my life circling around, around, upward,
then I found myself on a landing,
stuck on a treadmill that kept me level there,
apart from my progress…

then a light shone from above,
a pale blue heavenly light…and I looked up,
found myself lifting my foot, up, up, to the next step,
up until I could continue the
climb.

Julie Harris and Richard Johnson in The Haunting (1963, dir. Robert Wise).

Staircase photos via: Spiral Stairway to Heaven

Centralia Websites

Tags

abandoned cities, abandoned towns, Centralia, Centralia Mine fire, Centralia PA, clean coal, coal, coal fire, coal mining, Culture, Current events, energy, History, life, mine fire, PA, Pennsylvania, people, tourism, tragic, travel

For those of you who haven’t heard of this abandoned town in Pennsylvania, here’s a quick rundown of its story. First and foremost, for those of you who also don’t know this, I am not a promoter of coal mining, clean coal, or any of that other bullshit we are hit with saying that coal is the alternative energy source we are looking for.  My dear grandfather was a miner for most of his life here in America, and he died from black lung, a disease from breathing in coal dust that literally makes your lungs turn black. I realize that now, though I’m not sure, regulations and protections of miners may be more advanced, but I’m still not a supporter. And this small town in PA, once thriving and simple and pretty is an example of the greed, and just general stupidity when it comes to coal in this region of the world.

Centralia is best known for the fire that is still burning underground since 1962. It all started when someone got the bright idea to create a pit to burn garbage. The garbage fire burnt through the ground eventually, igniting a large vein of coal that was underneath, a common thing in this coal rich area of the world. Eventually this doomed the town, for the coal continued to burn beneath the surface, causing hot spots, smoke and steam rising. The local people thought the fire was a problem, but did not realize the magnitude of what would happen. Although steps were taken to extinguish the fire, and for a short time was thought to be a success, the fire continued to burn through the vein, under the town and some of the outlying area.

In 1982, two decades after the fire started a boy fell though a sink-hole and was pulled to safety quickly. This was a tragic awakening for the town and drew attention of the state government who decided to consider “shutting down” the town of Centralia. Throughout the next decade over $3.3 million was spent trying to control the fire. The Office of Surface Mining estimated that it would cost much more to do the job, like $663 million to put the blaze out entirely. Instead PA spent $42 million dollars to buy out and relocate most of the residents of Centralia. More than 1,000 residents were relocated and 500 homes were destroyed. The population today stands at 10.  And these 10 people are fighting. You see, they don’t want to leave their homes which they’ve lived in for decades, nor have they experienced any bad health effects from living in this coal fire region. These residents have formed their own plan to take back the condemned town, which has now been officially taken off the map, no area codes, zip codes, etc.

Centralia in 2006. photo: Daniel Shumaker

This core group of residents have maintained that the fire is all but completely out. They have done their own studies, and their own law suit, saying that the area is safe to live in. There seems to be no smoke coming out of the ground. They contend that the fire has either burned itself out or has moved away. The thing is, there may have been some alternative reasons why the state did not go forth with getting this fire completely under control. It is estimated that the coal vein beneath the ground where the fire start would be worth over a billion dollars if mined, and a coal company had shown interest in purchasing the land once the residents of Centralia cleared out. So you see, people homes are less important than this filthy source of energy, one that made coal barons in PA at the turn of the century some of the richest people in the world. If the government is masking these ulterior motives and wishes to claim rights to the thousands of acres of coal so that it can be sold for an inestimable amount of money, well, we truly live in greed-filled times.

Centralia in 2008, looking pretty green…though abandoned….
photo: Donald Davis

In May of 2010, the last residents fought to keep their homes after an eviction notice was given by Governor at the time, Ed Rendell. The Centralia zip code was officially revoked, and a state appeals court told the group he had no jurisdiction to hear arguments for the residents to stay. As a last ditch effort, the people plan a federal lawsuit, and the Supreme Court may be asked to review the claims and intervene.

There is a church that remains in Centralia, in which priests outside the area come each Sunday to hold mass; St. Mary’s Ukrainian Catholic Church.  It is one of the few public buildings still standing in Centralia.  A 100th anniversary of the church is planned for later this year, and I’ve read that the plan after that is to tear it down.

For this incredible story and well-presented information and photos on Centralia visit Carolyn Marteinssen’s website at
oscette.com/centralia.htm

For more information and images of Centralia, visit centralia.offroaders.com

Article source: Burning Down the House by Rich Pietras for dtown Magazine (Doylestown PA.)

A Day at Six Flags or Waterboarding? Tough One (via oldspouse)

Tags

amusement parks, blogs, Culture, Current events, funny, kids, life, miscellaneous, musings, parenting, people, Spring Break, teens, theme parks, vacation

With the summer season coming, and the thought of theme parks flicking ever so slightly through our minds, I thought I’d post this hilarious article I found….Need a laugh? Take a few minutes….
and great weekend to all…

by Roger White Spring break was winding down and nothing of major importance in the house had been destroyed, the trees in our front yard had remained free of toilet paper, the police had not been called all week to my knowledge, and no one near and dear to me had been injured, died, gotten pregnant, or been hauled to the slammer, so as a reward the wife and I decided to take our lovely daughter and a friend of hers to the nearest Six Flags amus … Read More

via oldspouse

We are meant to be different…

Tags

Art, expression, ideas, individuality, inspiration, life, love, people, philosophy, Photography, poetry, psychology, quotes, self, Soul, spirituality, teens, thoughts, twilight, women, Writing

Part of self acceptance is releasing other people’s opinions.  Often what we think of as things “wrong” with us are only our expressions of our own individuality.  We are meant to be different.  When we can accept this, then there is no competition and no comparison.  To try to be like another is to shrivel our soul.  We have come to this planet to express who we are.  -  Louise L. Hay

Image: Behind Infinity

A Kiss…

Tags

Art, Ingrid Bergman, inspiration, kiss, kissing, love, movies, musings, myths, Photography, quotes, teens, thoughts, twilight, women

“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous. – Ingrid Bergman

image: a kiss is just a kiss by meriirem

Chartreuse by any other name…

Tags

Art, chartreuse, color, Culture, decor, Design, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, inspiration, life, love, miscellaneous, models, movies, people, Photography, teens, twilight, weddings

…is probably some sick yellow/green color that most people dislike…but I love…

don’t ask me why?

Ziyi Zhang in chartreuse Armani gown at Golden Globe awards…the red carpet fuzz was sticking to the bottom…oh, to have these problems…

Proof that some things never last…but this picture will. Love the gown!

Chartreuse Quartz Ring

Mercury glass bead Christmas decorations.

 

What can I say today…

Tags

Art, artists, change, creativity, Culture, drawing, Erica Jong, fashion, fear, graphic art, heart, Illustration, inspiration, life, love, models, musings, myths, painting, teens, thoughts, twilight, women writers, Writers, Writing

I have accepted fear as a part of life – specifically the fear of change…

I have gone ahead despite the pounding in the heart that says: turn back.
- Erica Jong

Simply love the graphic artwork by  illustrator Alexey Kurbatov.

Tags

Chanel, Culture, decor, Design, fashion, Girl in the Black Dress, happiness, inspiration, life, love, Madame de Stael, morning, musings, myths, quotes, teens, thoughts, women, Writing

Glory can be for a woman but the brilliant morning of happiness. – Madame de Stael

or

a Chanel dress…

Table by James Merill

Tags

Art, Culture, eternity, fashion, inspiration, life, love, Madame de Stael, memory, musings, myths, people, Photography, poetry, quotes, teens, twilight, women

Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notion of time; effaces all memory
of a beginning….

…all fear of an end.

 

quote: Madame de Stael
image 1: Love by nyinaa
image 2: Love by recreate the misery
image 3: Love by Tynka Billisek

Fame…

Tags

Angelina Jolie, Erica Jong, fame, fashion, Film, Girl in the Black Dress, inspiration, life, musings, myths, people, Photography, quotes, teens, thoughts, women, women writers, Writing

“Fame means millions of people have the wrong idea of who you are.”
- Erica Jong

image: Angelina Jolie

Talent…

Tags

Art, artists, cats, courage, Culture, Erica Jong, glee, inspiration, life, Photography, quotes, rock n roll, sing, talent, teens, thoughts, twilight, women, women writers

“Everyone has talent. What is rare is the courage to follow the talent to the dark place where it leads.” – Erica Jong

image: Rock N Roll, Baby  by gre3g

Spring Fantasy….

Tags

Art, artists, fairy tales, fantasy, fantasy art, inspiration, love, myths, spring, Spring Break

Feeling the fresh air of spring….and inspired by the fantasy art of James Browne…

The Wit Continuum will be taking a Spring Break for the week…see you on the other side…

the earth

Tags

earth, God, heaven, loafing, novel writing, poems, poetry, smoke, Soul, thoughts, twilight, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

God loafs around heaven,
without a shape
but He would like to smoke His cigar
or bite His fingernails
and so forth.

God owns heaven
but He craves the earth,
the earth with its little sleepy caves,
its bird resting at the kitchen window,
even its murders lined up like broken chairs,
even its writers digging into their souls
with jackhammers,
even its hucksters selling their animals
for gold,
even its babies sniffing for their music,
the farm house, white as a bone,
sitting in the lap of its corn,
even the statue holding up its widowed life,
even the ocean with its cupful of students,
but most of all He envies the bodies,
He who has no body.

The eyes, opening and shutting like keyholes
and never forgetting, recording by thousands,
the skull with its brains like eels-
the tablet of the world -
the bones and their joints
that build and break for any trick,
the genitals,
the ballast of the eternal,
and the heart, of course,
that swallows the tides
and spits them out cleansed.

He does not envy the soul so much.
He is all soul
but He would like to house it in a body
and come down
and give it a bath
now and then.            – Anne Sexton

i like love these words for some reason, they haunt me today…as i sit here thinking about this…and that….this season of the year when for some of us god is ever present and alarming….i love the idea of god loafing around heaven, thinking about having a smoke or obtaining some useless human habit.  the one thing i always wonder about is if god really has any “human” traits at all ? 

anyway, i’ve been diligently working on my novel and it has occupied most of my waking moments, my digging into my soul with a jackhammer,  which is why i’ve been on vacation here…hopefully that will change, at least the vacation from here part. today i’d just thought i’d share some thought-provoking poetry…inspiration always…

any thoughts?

On the Road…the movie

Tags

Books, Culture, fiction, Film, Jack Kerouac, Kristen Stewart, literature, movies, On the road, twilight

Gerald Nicosia for The New York Times

Gerald Nicosia, second from left, and the cast of “On the Road,” Garrett Hedlund, Sam Riley and Kristen Stewart at boot camp.

By SCOTT JAMES

A nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization providing local coverage of the San Francisco Bay Area for The New York Times. To join the conversation about this article, go to baycitizen.org.

Many consider Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road” sacred text. The novel was, after all, originally typed on a scroll.

Translated into 40 languages, millions of copies of the Beat generation classic have sold worldwide since the novel was published in 1957, placing it among the 20th century’s most influential books.

When it comes to the big screen, however, “On the Road” has faced a Kerouac curse. Past efforts by Hollywood to adapt the author’s work have been failures.

Now, somewhat quietly, “On the Road” has finally been made into a movie. The $25 million production, shot in San Francisco, Montreal and other locales, is scheduled for release this fall.

The movie is expected to be of keen interest in San Francisco where the Beats and their old hangouts are a cottage industry. Each year, thousands of people flock to North Beach to visit the City Lights bookstore and the bar Vesuvio or to gawk at Kerouac artifacts in The Beat Museum.

But with so much interest comes anxiety.

Adapting any beloved book for film is perilous and apt to irk fans, especially when it’s a literary classic where the language itself played a starring role — something not easily translated onto the screen. “On the Road” is particularly daunting since the provocative ideas that defined the novel — casual sex and drug use and a rejection of materialism — are unlikely to raise eyebrows with today’s multiplex audience.

More here….link

Elvis Presley’s grandaughter…

Tags

Dazed and Confused, Elivis Presley, fashion, Film, Kristen Stewart, Lisa Marie Presley, love, models, movies, Music, myths, people, Riley Keough, The Runaways, twilight, women

Aahhh….a new face to draw….Riley Keough, the daughter of Lisa Marie Presley and Danny Keough,  granddaughter Priscella and the King of Rock n Roll.   At 22, she is a rising star on the modeling scene and has been in four movies, including The Runaways with Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning, and The Good Doctor with Orlando Bloom, to be released later this year. We think she’s gorgeous in her own way…

Riley Keough in Dazed and Confused…

…but we see a hint of the King here…those darn family genes….

images via kristen stewart twilight and we heart it

They call it the blues…

Tags

Art, Bleu, blue, Blue Bell Trunicates, cats, Chanel, Culture, Design, drinks, fashion, fish, flowers, funny, Greece, Jessica Alba, Photography, rugs, the color blue

…Blue bell trunicates….I had no idea what they were until the words popped up on google search…

Jessica Alba in blue.

Botswana blue natural fiber carpet from Indi-B.

Love this ad.

Got to have it.

Blue Domed Church – Greece by Petr Svarc

Blue Fighting Fish by fishybobo

Who needs a drink?

And just a little note of spring…in blueness. Frozen Flowers via Frozen Stardust.

This Week’s Playlist Fave

Tags

Adele, inspiration, love, Music, music video, play list, Video

Rolling In The Deep – Adele

Absolutely love, love, love her voice!

This Week’s Playlist Favorite

Tags

Dog Days Are Over, Florence and the Machine, inspiration, love, Music, music video, Video

Dog Days Are Over – Florence and the Machine

Peaceful wishes…

Tags

Easter, Esoteric, flowers, inspiration, life, love, peace, spirituality, spring

Wishing all of you peace, love, and newness of life this Easter and throughout the Spring season.

 The Wit Continuum

…a dancing star…

Tags

Chaos, Culture, Current events, fashion, fashion shoots, Friedrich Nietzsche, Girl in the Black Dress, glamour, Jamie Hince, Kate Moss, love, models, Music, people, Photography, quotes, Soul, star, twilight, Vogue, Vogue UK, women

“You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

Just love this photo shoot of Kate in vogue UK, 2008.

This one is gorgeous! The future bride! She’ll marry rocker Jamie Hince in July. Can’t wait to see what she wears.

Nonsense…defined…

Tags

Culture, fiction, funny, Garyulies, gibberish, literary, literary terms, literature, musings, nonsense, Picninnies, poems, poetry, poets, Samuel Foote, theory, thoughts, Writers, Writing

Nonsense may be mainly known as, well, just plain gibberish, or you may say “That’s utter nonsense,” meaning you disagree with what was said, whether it be hard to understand or not.

Strange thing, but in the Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory, nonsense is defined quite dramatically and it draws me in with fascination. Basically there are two kinds of nonsense: the unintentional, and the intentional. The former is common speech and the latter actually has its own minor genre in literature, if you can believe it. But I suppose I can. I’ve read a lot of nonsense that sells itself as literature, like all the gibber gook tink floo doth now more and less fly east via west you find in any Nora Roberts cookie cutter novel. Sorry if you’re a fan. What more fascinates me is the idea of this intentional nonsense (Nora need not apply) that historically has gone down as poetic and literary…such as the example that follows.

One of the classic nonsense poems of Samuel Foote (1720-77), The Great Panjandrum:

So she went into the garden
to cut a cabbage leaf
to make an apple-pie;
and at the same time
a great she-bear, coming down the street,
pops its head into the shop.
What! no soap?
So he died,
and she very imprudently married the Barber:
and there were present
the Picninnies,
and the Joblillies
and the Garyulies,
and the great Panjandrum himself,
with the little round button at top;
and they all fell to playing the game of catch-as-catch-can,
till the gunpowder ran out at the heels of their boots.

I think I am familiar with the Garyulies…they are a sorry lot.
If you give a floo, or a shit, or a damn….let me know.

Black Dress XVII

Tags

black dress, Emma Watson, fashion

Emma Watson

Tags

blogs, Culture, disturbed, funny, inspiration, life, miscellaneous, musings, myths, Photography, quotes, signs, Writing

They looked gorgeous…

Tags

Alexander McQueen, Culture, Current events, fashion, Kate Middleton, Kate Middleton's wedding dress, love, people, Prince William, Royal Wedding, Sarah Burton, wedding dresses, William and Kate

Kate’s gown (and her sister Pippa’s) was designed by Sarah Burton for Alexander McQueen. The tiara was her “something borrowed” from the Queen, which had been give to Elizabeth when she was 18.  What can I say? I watched, I enjoyed, and they all looked gorgeous….

Let’s meet for some coffee…

Tags

Art, artists, cafe, cafes, coffee, Culture, images, men, miscellaneous, people, Photography, photos, women

Click images for links to these talented photographer’s profiles and galleries.

From this week’s playlist…

Tags

Broken Bells, Music, playlist, songs, The High Road, Video

We the Living…

Tags

Ayn Rand, Books, Communism, Culture, inspiration, life, literature, myths, novels, people, quotes, Russian Revolution, stories, The Fountainhead, thoughts, We the Living, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

The quest for something interesting and different to read came about this weekend in the prodigious form of Ayn Rand’s revolutionary book We The Living. Rand is better known for her book, The Fountainhead, but I found this one at the library and thought I’d give it a try.  Every review I’ve read defines the book as a great depressing bore, with hardly a reviewer finishing it…but so far in my endeavor to read I’ve found it fascinating. Her literary style and use of imagery is wondrous, with dialogue that may be dated (written in 1936!) yet relevant.  Plus, I really think this woman was of great intelligence as a writer and philosopher and many of her views can be applied to our state of living today.

“We the Living portrays the impact of the Russian Revolution on three human beings who tried to shape their own destinies: Kira, who wanted to be a builder, and the two men who loved her – Leo, an aristocrat, and Andrei, a Communist.  Kira demanded the right to live her own life. But she was living in a totalitarian state.” – from the book cover.

Ayn Rand calls this book as close to an autobiography that she’ll ever write. She experienced the Russian Revolution herself as a young woman, and though the main character Kira, is loosely based on Ayn herself, in her ideas and thoughts, her convictions, and her values, the family situation and other parts of the story are fictional. The accounts of the hard times that the Communist regime pinned on the Russian people are explained with depth and sympathy. Ayn’s dilemma in her own life was that she didn’t wish to conform, she wished to be a writer. (The character Kira wished to build things, like bridges, a metaphor itself it seems.)

Here’s an excerpt from the Foreward to We the Living written by Ayn Rand after rereading her first novel for its second publication twenty-three years later….

“Too many writers declare that they never succeed in expressing fully what they wished to express and that their work is only some sort of approximation. It is a viewpoint for which I have never had any sympathy and which I consider excusable only when it is voiced by beginners, since no one is born with any kind of “talent’ and, therefore, every skill has to be acquired.  Writers are made, not born. To be exact, writers are self-made.  It was mainly in regard to We The Living, my first novel (and, progressively less, in regard to my work preceding The Fountainhead), that I had felt that my means were inadequate to my purpose and that I had not said what I wanted to say as well as I wished.  Now, I am startled to discover how well I did say it.”

I love that she says: Writers are made, not born. To be exact, writers are self-made.

Got to love a writer with her cat! Image at left is Ayn Rand with Thunderbird.

nowhere to go…

Tags

birds, everything, inspiration, life, love, Mark Nepo, musings, Nothing, nowhere, people, Photography, poems, quotes, spirituality, spring, twilight, Writing

There is nothing to do
and nowhere to go.
Accepting this,
we can do everything
and go anywhere.

- Mark Nepo

image: community meeting by macsimc

10 Things to say to Mom…

Tags

love, Mother's Day, mothers, musings, quotes, Things to say, thoughts, women, Writing

Thanks for all the orthodontia.

The card is in the mail. Sorry it’s late, and yes, I’m still a procrastinator in spite of everything you did to help with that.

The clothes you wore in the eighties – where are they? And don’t be hurt when I call them vintage.

Sure, I cried every morning at day care, but I’m so proud of your career.

The crazy rules I fought at age 16? Thanks for sticking by them.

…Oh, and a general apology for that whole year. OK, decade.

My sex life is satisfying and safe, you don’t need details.

I’m moving back in!  Ha- ha, just kidding.

It’s all your fault that I just spent $100 on organizing bins at The Container Store.

And hey, Mom, how’s your crazy week going?

- Via the A List in Glamour Magazine

I would also like to add my own ten:

Mom, how do you sew that perfectly straight line in my chair covers?

Why is Dad going to the casino again?

No, I’m not cutting my hair short and perming it, okay?

Thanks for being there every day when the baby was born. I don’t think I would have survived.

Is that wallet an endless supply of  money for the kids each week?

What kind of gum do you have with you? (At first I typed by accident “gun”….now that’s a thought…)

We’re getting a puppy and you’ll have to baby sit it…what do you mean “no way” ?

When we have the Memorial Day picnic at your house I promise I won’t get too drunk to help you clean up.

Mom, I always love you…even if I don’t say it a lot.

I hope you have a great, care-free day…And hope you win at the casino!

Happy Mother’s Day to all!

Ghosts in the machines…

Tags

Art, artists, Bob Dylan, cassette tapes, celebrities, Culture, famous portraits, Illustration, Music, musicians, people, Pop Art, popular art, portrait art, portraits, recycle art, recycling

“Ghost in the Machine” series artwork by Erika Iris Simmons.

Tags

Art, beauty, Culture, fashion, flowers, inspiration, life, love, miscellaneous, musings, myths, philosophy, quotes, spirituality, women, Writing

“By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.” – Rabindrath Tagore

This World Which is Made of Our Love For Emptiness

Tags

emptiness, existence, fear, hope, life, literature, love, Photography, poems, poetry, praise, Rumi, spirituality, Tales, thoughts, twilight, words, Writing

Praise to the emptiness that blanks our existence. Existence:
this place made from our love for that emptiness!
Yet somehow comes emptiness,
this existence goes.
Praise to the happening, over and over!

For years I pulled my own existence out of emptiness.
Then one swoop, one swing of the arm,
that work is over.
Free of who I was, free of presence, free of
dangerous fear, hope,
free of mountainous wanting.

The here-and-now mountain is a tiny piece of a piece
of straw
blown off into emptiness.

These words I’m saying so much begin to lose meaning:
existence, emptiness, mountain, straw: words
and what they try to say swept
out the window, down the slant of the roof.

- Rumi

Image: Cafe on the Hill of Love  by Dr4kon

This Week’s playlist fave: Bob Marley

Tags

Bob Marley, Bob Marley and the Wailers, Jamming, Music, music icons, music legends, myths, Photography, poetry, quotes, Reggae music, spirituality

In appreciation for the Reggae legend who died 30 years ago on May 11 this song haunted my playlist this week…

Also check out great article on Streetdate Radio.com…

http://streetdate.radio.com/2011/05/11/remembering-reggae-icon-bob-marley-30-years-later/

Tags

Goo Goo Dolls, Iris, Music

The Fish That Walked by Anne Sexton

Tags

Anne Sexon, Art, artists, blogs, drawings, fish, fish art, fish in art, Illustration, literature, paintings, poems, poetry, poets, women writers, Writing

Up from oysters
and the confused weeds,
out of the tears of God,
the wounding tides,
he came.
He became a hunter of roots
and breathed like a man.
He ruffled through the grasses
and became known to the sky.
I stood close and watched it all.
Beg pardon, he said
but you have skin divers,
you have hooks and nets,
so why shouldn’t I
enter your element for a moment?
Though it is curious here,
usually awkward to walk.
It is without grace.
There is no rhythm
in this country of dirt.

And I said to him:
From some country
that I have misplaced
I can recall a few things…
but the light of the kitchen
gets in the way.
Yet there was a dance
when I kneaded the bread
there was a song my mother
used to sing…
And the salt of God’s belly
where I floated in a cup of darkness.
I long for your country, fish.

The fish replied:
You must be a poet,
a lady of evil luck
desiring to be what you are not,
longing to be
what you can only visit.

Click art images for links for these wonderful artist.
Fish Magic Paul Klee reproduction can be found at Nonprints.com

Original poem by Anne Sexton

Model feast for the eyes…

Tags

Anja Rubik, Arizona Muse, Art, black dresses, Christy Turlington, Culture, Du Juan, fashion, Gemma Ward, models, musings, Photography, Sasha Pivovarova, women

my tresses currently match this…i got scissor happy one day….

[link]

Lavender fields…

Tags

Culture, devotion, flowers, funny, inspiration, lavender, lavender flowers, lavender meaning, luck, musings, purity, silence, spring

a Spring gift of lavender from the Wit Continuum…
(i wish there was a scratch and sniff option…have to contact WordPress on this issue…)

A gift of lavender means purity, silence and luck.
Devotion is also associated with lavender flowers.

The Fallen Angels by Anne Sexton

Tags

angels, Anne Sexton, Art, Fallen Angels, fashion, literature, May, November, Photography, poems, poetry, twilight, women, women writers, Writing

“Who are they”
“Fallen Angels who were not good enough to be
saved, nor bad enough to be lost” say the peasantry.

They come on to my clean
sheet of paper and leave a Rorschach blot.
They do not do this to be mean,
they do it to give me a sign
they want me, as Aubrey Beardsley once said,
to shove it around till something comes.
Clumsy as I am,
I do it.
for I am like them–
both saved and lost,
tumbling downward like Humpty Dumpty
off the alphabet.

Each morning I push them off my bed
and when they get in the salad
rolling in it like a dog,
I pick each one out
just the way my daughter
picks out the anchovies.
In May they dance on the jonquils,
wearing out their toes,
laughing like fish.
In November,
the dread month,
they suck the childhood out of the berries
and turn them sour and inedible.

Yet they keep me company.
They wiggle up life.
They pass out their magic
like Assorted Lifesavers.
They go with me to the dentist
and protect me from the drill.
At the same time,
they go to class with me
and lit to my students.

O fallen angel,
the companion within me,
whisper something holy
before you pinch me
into the grave.

____________________________________________

I know, another Sexton poem? what can I say?
Beautiful and eerie photography by Alcholado.

Friday Playlist fave…

Tags

cool, Film, Music, never the same, playlists, Supreme Beings of Leisure, Video

…it may leave me breathless…

Love this cover…

Tags

Art, artists, Bono, celebrity, covers, fashion, magazines, Music, Paris Vogue, Penelope Cruz, Photography, Vogue

Big fan of both…

Paris Vogue, May 2010

Tags

beauty, blindness, Dolce n Gabbana, fashion, myths, Penelope Cruz, people, Photography, quotes, Ralph Ellison, Vogue, white dress

“Had the price of looking been blindness, I would have looked. – Ralph Ellison

Image: Penelope Cruz for Vogue June 2011 by Mario Testino

Gates

Tags

gates, inspiration, life, musings, philosophy, Photography, poems, poetry, poets, spirituality, Ted Kooser, thoughts, twilight, Writing

Gates
by Ted Kooser

If a gate stands open long enough,
it can’t be closed again. Slowly,
the morning glories tie it fast,
and the strength that kept it flying
over the grass-tops lets it down.

The same thing happens if a gate’s
left closed; you lose it to the fence
(that’s what a fence wants, after all).
A rule of thumb: if you can’t use
your gate enough to keep it swinging,
better to leave it standing wide.

Being Natural…

Tags

inspiration, life, miscellaneous, musings, Photography, poems, poetry, spirituality, Writing

How hard one has to labor at it.
There are explanations, of course,
and confessions,
but that is not what is meant.

The way is lost.
The character is gone.

- Carl Rakosi

Image: down an alley by impure heart

Joan Didion’s Tiny,Tiny World

Tags

blogs, Culture, literature, love, myths, people, quotes, thoughts, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2011/06/joan-didions-tiny-tiny-world-1.html

Did I ever mention that I love this writer?!

Feeling summer…

Tags

Art, blogs, Design, drinks, fashion, June, life, love, models, pale pink, Peonies, Pink, pink drinks, pink furniture, Sasha Alexander, shoes, summer, Vera Wang, wit

…and summer means pale pink…at least for today….

Vera Wang

Sasha Alexander

Charles David

After years of peonies in my back yard…I miss them terribly in June…If you’ve never smelled one, stick your nose in when you get the chance…

Pink

Love the vintage look of this Big Chill stove in pink lemonade…

Pale pink makeup…

Pink Hairhide chair, Bamboozled braclets, Stargazer Lily knobs, Crystal pink chandelier, and Bedlam wallpaper. Not sure about the stationery….via Decor 8 blog….

Pink drink looks refreshing…for more pinkness and fashionable-ness
click here…and here…

Happy Beginning of Summer from The Wit Continuum…

I know I’m slow on posts of late, been busy…will be more on the
upkeep and the up sweep in mid-June, when summer’s hitting
a full swing and my birthday looms…(remember the 19th people!) …

Peace…

June 1 to 10, 2011

Tags

Art, blogs, Books, cats, chairs, clothes, Culture, fashion, flowers, funny, furniture, June, life, Lou boutin, love, Mary Kate and Ashley, miscellaneous, models, musings, Nicole Richie, people, Photography, Pink, poems, poetry, stories, thoughts, twilight, war protest, women, Writing

What I’ve come across this week when I had time, when I felt enthused with summer, when I was battling the heat, when I was delighting in the air-conditioning, when I was watching a thunderstorm, when I was watching tv, when I was tweeting and texting and emailing and facebooking and writing (or trying to) and not reading at all….

EJ 6 Yasmin chairs

Perfectly pink…

Free People Clothing….

One depressed kitty….

One perfectly pink flower chair for the modern appeal…

My war protest…I’ve been busy people!

Who wouldn’t want this?….

My So You Think You Can Dance favorite dance….

This makes me cringe…but I’d still love a pair…

A piece of poetry:

Love is not logical, but has its own
Peculiar philosophy. I know
I shall stay here now.

(-Jenny Joseph)

And lastly, Nicole Richie looking incredible….

Happy Summer All!

You see I have been here a long time now…

Tags

beauty, blogging, blogs, chairs, fields, inspiration, life, literature, love, musings, nature, people, Photography, poems, poetry, spirituality, summer, teens, thoughts, time, twilight, women, women writers, Writing

You see I have been here a long time now
And though the work I came for was years ago finished
It is an easy country to stay on in.
I have got used to the way of certain things here.
They can be absurdly irritating at times
But I get on quite well, really quite well with the people,
And then, they take you for granted.  And there’s the sun
And the night air in Summer.  There are the Southern roses,
I am as ease in these frequented ruins
And here at least I have my place as exile.

 

poem piece: Man in a Bar by Jenny Joseph

image link: waiting for summer

…with golden light…

Tags

beauty, dreams, garden, paths, Photography, poems, poetry, spirituality, stars, summer, sun, this may be an LSD moment, twilight

Why you are so beautiful with golden light…
your hair, your hair, shines like beams from a sun…

I can’t help but smile.
She takes my hand.

But wait, wait…watch where you step…we must step
carefully….
for the stars can only hold holy weight…

I say that I’m not sure my weight is holy.
I suddenly wish I could go with her.
She’s so happy, uninhibited. I want to see what she sees,
feel what she feels, my hand
in hers.

We step carefully on the garden path,
step only where she tells me,
each tentative foot on a flat rock on the path…

I wonder if there are actual stars beneath my feet?

Can you feel it, my golden friend?
Can you dig it?

Yes, I can. I knew you could.

note: this piece of writing was in one of my too many notebooks…
it could be inspired by Anais Nin’s doors of perception….I do not remember
who wrote it, if I did, or whoever…does this ever happen to you? I’d ask don’t you hate when
it does, yet, I sort of like the mystery of it all…

Image: Asil3

Sharing My Birthday….

Tags

birthdays, blogs, cats, Culture, fashion, Film, Garfield, Gena Rowlands, Guy Lombardo, Hugh Dancy, Kathleen Turner, life, love, movies, Music, myths, Paula Abdul, people, Photography, screen icons, women, Zoe Saldana

This Wit celebrates today…and I’m not alone. Strangely I’ve met over twelve people in my life who share my birthday, and my own cousin was born on this day also. The following are celebs who share my day…I’ve never met them however…

Forever my girl, despite all the hoop-lah, Paula Abdul…

Fresh new face of beauty, Zoe Saldana

The very hot, Hugh Dancy…

The very sexy-voiced Kathleen Turner…

The slick maestro Guy Lombardo himself…

Screen icon Gena Rowlands…here with hubby John Cassavettes in 1954.
Love this picture!

And lastly the king of cat world grumps, my favorite cartoon cat Garfield!

35 Years to Bury…

Tags

a corpse's journey, Argentina, cemetery, Culture, Evita, Evita Peron, History, Juan Peron, people, tourism, women

As I perused a most strange article in the newspaper about the famous Argentina tourist attraction,
the La Recoleta cemetery, it mentions the resting place of the famous female political leader,
Evita Peron. How she got there was quite an ordeal. An incredible 35 year journey her
remains took that spanned half the earth…now that’s a long trek for a dead person.

Maria Eva Duarte Peron and Juan Peron in 1950.

Evita died of cancer in 1952, during her husband’s presidency. He hired a noted physician of
the time, a Dr. Pedro Ara, to embalm Eva’s body while he constructed a mausoleum of great
stature for her remains.
Instead, the body was on display, gathering great attention. The mausoleum was put
on hold. In 1955, bad timing all around, Juan Peron was kicked out of office during
the political uprising in Argentina, and he fled to Spain. Ara took responsibility to transport
Evita’s remains to Milan, Italy and buried her under the fake name of Maria Maggi.

Her body remained there until 1971 until it was exhumed by Juan Peron and taken to Madrid where
the ousted leader was living in exile. He reburied her under careful watch of Ara, who it
was rumored and had fallen in love with the corpse of Eva.

In 1973, Peron returned to Argentina and became president again. Evita did not accompany him.
It wasn’t until after his death in 1974 that Eva’s remains were dug up once more. She was returned to
Argentina and buried beside her husband on the palace grounds. In 1987, anti-Peron  activists
broke into the graves and cut off Juan Peron’s hands. Evita was once more exhumed, and placed
in the hopeful security of her family’s mausoleum, and remains there today.

The Familia Duarte mausoleum resides in La Recoleta cemetery.It is of course one of the most visited
burial sites of the cemetery.

What Tarot Card are You? I Am the Moon…

Tags

Art, Culture, hope, intuition, life, love, magic, miscellaneous, moon, musings, mystery, occult, promise, spirituality, tarot, teens, thoughts, twilight, What Tarot Card Are You?, women

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery – when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?

Tags

Art, artists, blogs, Culture, dream, fiction, History, Illustration, irony, life, literature, Michael Ondaatji, musings, nothing lasts forever, quotes, spirituality

“Nothing lasts. It is an old dream. Art burns, dissolves. And to be loved with the irony of history–that isn’t much.” ~ Michael Ondaatji  from Anil’s Ghost

image: Nothing Lasts Forever by HellLemur

Man and Woman

Tags

Edie Sedgwick, Factory Girl, fashion, fiction, Film, Hayden Christensen, life, love, movies, musings, myths, Photography, Sienna Miller

A man’s face is his autobiography. A woman’s face is her work of fiction. – Oscar Wilde

{images feature Hayden Christensen and Sienna Miller in promo shots for Factory Girl}

We must carry it with us…

Tags

beach, beauty, inspiration, life, love, musings, ocean, people, Photography, quotes, Ralph Waldo Emerson, spirituality, summer, thoughts, Writing

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry
it with us or we find it not.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

So true, so true…

Got to love this!

Tags

acoustic, Adele, artists, Linkin Park, Music, music video, music videos, Rolling in the Deep, songs, Video

Credits to the Wit Continuum teen members for finding this great video. Made my day! Enjoy!

Epiphanies

Tags

Art, artists, beginnings, blogging, blogs, Books, creativity, epiphanies, epiphany, fiction, inspiration, Joyce Carol Oates, life, literature, love, musings, myths, spirituality, stories, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

Do you know what it’s like to have one of these crazy combustible things that are called “epiphanies.” Quite a few years ago I had one, one that made me realize what was going on in my life, what was most important, and what I had to do to make my equilibrium stable again.

The result was that I quit writing.

Believe it or not, it was a freeing experience, this release from “having” to write. I worked on art, I played with my then very small children, I found a new love for cooking the most mundane things, like pizza dough, pasta sauces of many variety, and fruit salad. I stayed in the yard with the kids. I read every book I could get my hands on. I read Shakespeare’s entire collection of poems, and I memorized some. I took a job working part-time teaching pathetically untalented kids the first endeavors on the violin.

It was nice for a while.

But not writing didn’t last long.

Joyce Carol Oates says in her book (Woman) Writer in the very first chapter, page 3, called Beginnings:

“I begin with the proposition that the impulse to create, like the impulse to destroy, is utterly mysterious. That it is, in fact, one of the primary mysteries of human experience. We can’t hope to explain it but we can’t, evidently, resist speculating about it.”

Since I’ve been on an “impulse to create” in writing as well as art of late, and reading Oates’ book in turn, I’m in incredible awe at how the spontaneous ideas form in our writer’s brains, how we record, and hopefully find sense in the words, how we transgress through unfathomable pits of existence in our brains, which we use only 10% of and yet hold so much intuitive creation. Where does the beginning of creation start and can we forge an unbreakable bond with it so that writer’s block and lack of inspiration never ever haunt us again. It is an epiphany of its own accord.

I only wish to explore it more….

Thanks for reading. Leave your thoughts on inspiration and
where you find yours, and how you get into the artist/writers’
groove, where I hope we all dwell together forever…

Celebrating the 4th…on the 3rd!

Tags

animals, bears, blogs, celebration, Culture, Current events, fireworks, food, funny, It's A Jeep Thing, July 4th, life, love, miscellaneous, nature, parties, pasta salad, perfectly legal, Photography, squirrels, teens

Uncle’s celebration of the 4th of July, the yearly showdown of eating, drinking and perfectly safe, legal, firework extravaganza will be taking place today….and this Wit can’t wait. I’ve been cooking today to for the eventful occasion in which we will not only celebrate this country’s freedom, but also the new found freedom of my dear cousin and all her gorgeousness!

We will not be taking Lorenzo, the deck squirrel, who eats all the bird seeds…

Nor will we be taking the backyard bear…

…but we will be taking this….

…and this…

…along with three Wit teen members in this…

Enjoy this pre-4th Day to everyone out there.
Peace and freedom for all…

©All photos The Wit Continuum

Camera: Sony Cyber-shot DSC-W220

4th of July…2011

Tags

4th of July, celebration, flowers, Happy 4th of July, life, macro photography, Photography

A bit of red, white and blue for you all…

©Photos The Wit Continuum

Summer Art: Marc Chagall

Tags

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Art, artists, inspiration, life, love, Marc Chagall, modern art, musings, myths, paintings, quotes, Stella Adler

Life beats down and crushes the soul and art
reminds you that you have one.
~Stella Adler

Je t’aime

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Birthday Painting

Summer Reading…

Tags

13 Reasons Why, book reviews, Books, fiction, Film, high school novels, Jay Asher, movies, novel, novels, stories, Tales, teens, Writers, Writing

Finished reading 13 Reasons Why last week. It was an awesome teen read, but left me a bit confused. I guess I didn’t quite “feel” the anxiety of this suicidal girl, but could certainly understand the circumstances of her situation…how she felt lost, with no one to turn to…but then, she could have made a lot of other choices, for instance a scene in a hot tub (need I say more), a place she clearly did not want to be, yet goes there willingly and …I won’t give away the story, but bad choices lead to bad feelings and emotional scars. All in all, the story was well written. Loved the unique format of Hannah’s voice on tapes, and the thoughts of the main character mingled together. It was different and hard to put down. Good work by Jay Asher.

A movie is already in the works I’ve heard, with Selena Gomez starring. I can’t see her as the Hannah character, so if this is the case, I think I’ll skip the movie version. Some books are best left alone…

The essense of green…

Tags

fashion, green, green fashion, love, models, myths, people, Photography, Writing

Versace Spring/Summer 2011

the simplicity of it…

…the green of earth and fern and  the heart chakra and love…

…what we can see, and touch, feel and paint…

…and the green we cannot touch but simply imagine…

Kate Moss for Longchamp-Spring 2011

{click photos for artist links}

In a mid-summer night’s dream I’m feeling the elements of this color, not sure why, but they come to me in subtle yet physical ways…like the whispers of soft moss on rocks, or the silk of a shimmering skirt…

Maya Angelou on Writing

Tags

artists, Books, fiction, inspiration, life, literature, Maya Angelou, poems, poetry, stories, thoughts, twilight, women, women writers, Writers, Writing

The great autobiographer, poet, short-story writer, screenwriter and journalist Maya Angelou offers her own view on ideas when starting a new writing project as told to Sheila Weller in an interview:

It starts with a definite subject, but it might end with something entirely different. When I start a project, the first thing I do is write down, in longhand, everything I know about the subject, every thought I’ve had on it. This may be twelve or fourteen pages. Then I read it back through, for quite a few days, and find–given that subject–what its rhythm is. ‘Cause everything in the universe has a rhythm. So if it’s free form, it still has a rhythm. And once I hear the rhythm of the piece, then I try to find out what are the salient points that I must make. And then it begins to take shape.

I try to set myself up in each chapter by saying: “This is what I want to go from–from B or , say G-sharp. Or from D to L.” And then I find the hook. It’s like the knitting, where, after you knit a certain amount, there’s one thread that begins to pull. You know, you can see it right along the cloth. Well, in writing, I think: “Now where is that one hook, that one little thread?” It may be a sentence. If I can catch that, then I’m home free. It’s the one that tells me where I’m going. It may not even turn out to be in the final chapter. I may throw it out later or change it. But if I follow it through, it leads me right out.

One thinks about the universal rhythm of everything…and one wonders if all this is wasting time and thought, more than it’s worth…

perhaps not…

Source: The Bedford Reader

Review: Inside of a Dog (via Doggerel)

Tags

alexandra-horowitz, animals-make-us-human, behavior, book reviews, dogs, inside-of-a-dog, new-york-times, patricia-mcconnell, research, Science, temple-grandin, Writing

Great review of an interesting book…

I’m an avid reader of book reviews, and I first heard of this wonderful book in the New York Times Book Review. Critic Cathleen Schine gives a fair and warm review of the book, writing that author Alexandra Horowitz is keen on dropping “some lovely observation, some unlikely study, some odd detail that causes one’s dog-loving heart to flutter … Read More

via Doggerel

I write – and read – ….

Tags

Art, Ayn Rand, blogs, Books, Culture, fiction, funny, Illustration, inspiration, literature, musings, quotes, reading, reading books, reading glasses, stories, The Fountainhead, thoughts, women writers, Writers, Writing

In reading Ayn Rand’s introduction to The Fountainhead I found this interesting quote, and great advice:

“I write – and read – for the sake of the story….My basic test for any story is: ‘Would i want to meet these characters and observe these events in real life?  Is this story an experience worth living through for its own sake?  Is the pleasure of contemplating these characters an end in itself?’”

image: Reading Glasses by Murray Mullet

Up late…

Tags

Art, artists, blogs, computers, funny, graphic art, Illustration, spiders, up late, Web

image: Up Late on the Web by Murray Mullet

My heavy heart has gone this way before…

Tags

branches, heart, life, love, musings, myths, Photography, poems, poetry, trees

There are more leaves on
The ground than grew on the trees.
I can no longer see the
Path; I find my way without
Stumbling; my heavy heart has
Gone this way before. Until
Life goes out memory will
not vanish, but grow stronger
Night by night.

-from On Flower Wreath Hill by Kenneth Rexroth
image: Branches by Hengki24

Surreal color…

Tags

Art, artists, blogs, drawing, fashion, funny, Girl in the Black Dress, Illustration, painting, surreal, surreal art, teens, twilight

Love these strange surreal drawings by Tragic-Memory.

Red and Blue are my favorites….

Perfect Summer Day…

Tags

At the beach, beach, blogs, Books, cool, cottage, Culture, decor, fashion, inspiration, life, love, Marilyn Monroe, miscellaneous, musings, myths, ocean, people, shabby chic, summer, thoughts, vacation, white, white wine, wine, Wish I was on Vacation, women

This would encompass a perfect summer day for me…

Sitting here all day…and cooling off in the crystal clear water…

Wearing this…and just for one day, looking like this…

Cooling off later in the perfect white shabby chic cottage, reading a favorite book, talking softly with friends and drinking the perfect white wine…

Cosmic Love

Tags

cosmic love, Florence + the Machine, friday, Music, Video

Friday with Florence….

Monday….

Tags

blogging, blogs, Bob Dylan, Books, Current events, Elizabeth Kostova, fiction, Forever Young, life, literature, love, Music, The Swan Thieves, women writers, Writers, Writing

We are presently getting an engulfing amount of much needed rain today…it has been thundering and pouring since approx. 9 a.m. …. Nice change….anything’s better than that heat…

Writing and reading and working on updating this blog…The new sidebar features new links and a section on what I’m currently reading, among some other things… Great inspiring book for young and old alike…check sidebar for link and more info.

Note to Just Under the Surface: Finally, finally, found a good read (from the library)…click book in sidebar for link to site.

 

Shreds of Steam

Tags

Art, graphic art, inspiration, poems, poetry, Rumi, Steam Punk, Writing

SHREDS OF STEAM
by Rumi

Light again, and the one who brings light!
Change the way you live!

From the ocean vat, wine fire in each cup!
Two or three of the long dead wake up.
Two or three drunks become lion hunters.

Sunlight washes a dark face.
The flower of what’s true opens in the face.
Meadowgrass and garden ground grow damp again.
A strong light like fingers massages our heads.
No dividing these fingers from those.

Draw back the lock bolt.
One level flows into another.
Heat seeps into everything.
The passionate pots boil.
Clothing tears into the air.
Poets fume shreds of steam,
never so happy as out in the light!

(image: Steam Punk 004, click image for link)

Candle light…

Tags

candles, inspiration, light, literature, poems, quotes, Shakespeare, spirituality, Tales, Writing

That light we see is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

-from The Merchant of Venice

Image: Lonely Candle by Plug In Syndrome

Wishes…

Tags

image, inspiration, life, myths, quotes, Soul, spirituality, wishes

“When the soul wishes to experience something she throws an image of the experience out before her and enters into her own image.”

~Meister Eckhart

Image: Vogue Italia

fresh wit+beauty

Tags

beauty, blogging, blogs, fashion, love, tumblr, twilight, wit

Freshly updated Wit + Beauty page…

http://witnbeauty.tumblr.com/

Maison Laduree

Tags

blogs, cafes, culinary, Culture, Current events, food, Laduree, New York, sweets, Theresa Duncan

I know Theresa Duncan would have been happy to see this, as per her invitation before she left this world…Laduree is finally opening in New York in September. This promises to be a beautiful and delicious place I’m sure, on 864 Madison Avenue on the Upper East Side of NY.

I would have loved to join her there…

Painting Hitchcock

Tags

Art, artists, Boltax Gallery, Culture, Hitchcock, John Abrams, movies, paintings

I can’t resist these extraordinary works by artist John Abrams, who’s collection “”Painting Hitchcock” was featured earlier this season at the Boltax Gallery on Shelter Island, NY.
All images from Boltax Gallery.

Mythical Artwork

Tags

animal art, Art, artists, Culture, drawing, inspiration, painting, Sheila Isham, women

 

Great inspiration from artist Sheila Isham…more here…

The White Shadow

Tags

Alfred Hitchcock, Betty Compson, Current events, Film, hollywood, Movie history, movies, silent films

The lost Alfred Hitchcock film, “The White Shadow”, was found in New Zealand by the National Film Preservation Foundation. It’s the earliest known feature film to Hitchcock’s credit. One wonders, was some foundation intern putzing around the archives and just happened to see this old dusty film and wondered, Hey, what the fuck is this? Then played it for himself in some quiet dusty room with a bottle of select wine…and then out of his drunken stupor thought, “I better tell someone.” ?

In any case, the silent melodrama stars Betty Compson in a dual role as twin sisters, one quite the lovely charmer, the other touted as “without a soul”.
Annette Melville, Foundation director, says: “At the time, people said the plot was improbable. I’m putting a polite spin on it. Many siad it was ridiculous. It’s a totally crazy, zany plot with soul migration back and forth and all these improbable meetings.”

The restored print of the movie will be shown September 22 at the Samuel Goldwyn Theater at Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Beverly Hills. More here.

Wit+Beauty update

Tags

Art, blogs, fashion, life, love, models, quotes, teens, tumblr, twilight

Wit+Beauty

Words….in juice…

Tags

alphabet, funny, literature, musings, word, word history, Writers, Writing

Been exploring this book called Alphabet Juice, The Energies, Gists, and Spirits of Letters, Words, and Combinations Thereof: Their Roots, Bones, Innards, Piths, Pips, and Secret Parts, Tinctures, Tonics, and Essences; With Examples of Their Usage Foul and Savory….

Yes, that’s the title…oh, and it’s by Roy Blount Jr. So I may share a few of these witty spirits from the book…ones that make me stop and think…or spark a memory of my own. Here’s one:

> double entendre

Not necessarily naughty. I remember when, in childhood, I first picked up on the double meaning of Bon Ami cleansing powder’s logo: a freshly hatched baby chick over the works “Hasn’t scratched yet.” Nice. See pun.

I can’t say what memory this sparks, but without showing my age too much I hope I do remember Bon Ami cleanser in my grandmother’s house when I was a little one. HHmm.

 

The Soul Selects

Tags

Art, divine madness, drawing, Emily Dickinson, poems, poetry, poets, tattos, wild nights!, women writers

The Soul Selects

The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one:
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.

~Emily Dickinson
Caricature by GJ Southwell

“I dwell in possibility…”~E.D.

Emily Dickinson, Poems about Words, via Voices of Education Project

(Vivian Song/The Epoch Times)

“I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.”~E.D.

Emily Dickinson’s garden Herbarium – via Poets.org

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense

Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
‘Tis the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur, – you’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.

The daguerreotype (love that word – dare you to say it write it three times…) of Emily Dickinson, 1847, by William C. North.

…in her own handwriting…
via: Wild Nights! Wild Nights!

“My friends are my estate.”~E.D.

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain,
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

“Forever is composed of nows” – E.D.

Home of Emily Dickinson, Amherst, Massachusetts via Red Ravine

Drawing by Leland Myrick via First Second Books

The Writer at Work

Tags

Art, Cartoons, comics, funny, humor, Illustration, life, Tom Gould, Writers, writing life

Love this!

Check out more great cartooning: Tom Gould.com

Patience and Beauty

Tags

beauty, inspiration, musings, patience, philosophy, poems, prophets, Rumi, sewing, spirituality

The patience of a rose close to a thorn
keeps it fragrant. It’s patience that gives milk
to the male camel still nursing in its third year,
and patience is what the prophets show to us.

The beauty of careful sewing on a shirt
is the patience it contains.

Feeling lonely and ignoble indicates
that you haven’t been patient.

Be with those who mix with God
as honey blends with milk, and say,

“Anything that comes and goes,
rises and sets,
is not what I love.”

Live in the one who created the prophets,
else you’ll be like a caravan fire left
to flare itself out alone beside the road.

~From Craftmanship and Emptiness by Rumi

Click image for artist.

Strange beauty…

Tags

Art, beautiful, bing images, Japan, Otagi nenbutsu-ji temple, Photography, scupture, stone sculptures, strange

Today Bing’s front page displayed an image of the sculptures from the Buddist temple, Otagi Nenbutsu-ji, in Kyoto, Japan. I was fascinated at these strange yet beautiful stone works…

AAhhhh….I could spent hours here with a camera.

Peaceful day to all…

Tags

blogging, blogs, life

There are times when life gets in the way… in a good way…

On a brief break as we all head into the fall season….busy with work and schedule changes…

Fear not, The Wit Continuum will be back soon…

Peace…

The song I can’t get out of my head…

Tags

Foster the People, lyrics, Music, playlist, Pumped Up Kicks, songs, tunes

 

Been listening to this song, Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People, heard it a few times this weekend and added it to my playlist. My girls tell me it’s not about shoes, well, it sort of is, but that there’s something else going on here.  Despite it’s upbeat sound, the lyrics have me wondering…definitely darker than the song sounds, which makes it even more cleaver…and utterly unforgettable. Maybe not for everyone.

What do you think?

Poetry…on the frige?

Tags

being a mother, children, expression, first day of school, inspiration, kids, life, love, Magnetic poetry, poems, poetry, teens

Years ago I bought the Magnetic Poetry Kit, a little box of magnetic words made to be scattered on your refrigerator front to create spontaneous writing for anyone seeking a drink or snack. This week, I found it in my drawer and brought it out. My girls haven’t seen this since they were little and I’d use it to help them form their first sentences. The other day my 15-year-old spent forty-five minutes helping me splatter these things up (and pick up the ones that inevitably fell to the floor in the process) and then stood there for some time finding her own poetic design. I had to laugh. These are moments of enchantment in life. Time goes by too fast…I cherish little moments like this. So here’s what I magnet-ed out for the first day of school yesterday…

And here are some other expressions I found randomly displayed among the words…(not sure when these were done, which makes them even more precious)…

Well, that just about says it all…

I feel so blessed.

A Navajo Indian Prayer

Tags

beauty, flowers, inspiration, life, Navajo prayer, Photography, poems, prayers, rejuvination, spirituality

O you who dwell in the house made of dawn,
in the house made of evening twilight…
Where the dark mist curtains the doorway,
the path to which is on the rainbow…
I have made your sacrifice.
I have prepared a smoke for you.

My feet restore for me.
My limbs restore for me.
My  body restore for me.
My mind restore for me.
My voice restore for me.

Today, take away your spell from me.
Away from me you have taken it.
Far off from me you have taken it.

Happily I recover.
Happily my interior becomes cool.
Happily my eyes regain their power.
Happily my head becomes cool.
Happily my limbs regain their power.
Happily I hear again.
Happily for me the spell is taken off.

Happily I walk.
Impervious to pain, I walk.
Feeling light within, I walk…
In beauty I walk.
With beauty before me, I walk.
With beauty behind me, I walk.
With beauty below me, I walk.
With beauty all around me, I walk.

It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.

Prayer resource:
Holistic-online.com

Image:
The Wit Continuum

A Few inspiring thoughts from Michael Franti…

Tags

inspiration, life, love, Michael Franti & Spearhead, Music, songs, spirituality

 

Tags

beauty, blogs, fashion, Kate Moss, wit

Follow me over at  Wit+Beauty this week….

Ask me anything…

Rain, Rain, go away…come again some other day.

Tags

Basho, Carl Sandburg, Photography, poems, poetry, rain, Robert Louis Stevenson

photo: RAIN by Maozi

Much as I sometimes love rain, and rainy days, and any excuse to stay in
and read a good book, I’m just plain old getting sick of it this week. And it doesn’t seem like it will be stopping…

First winter rain
by Matsuo Basho

First winter rain–
even the monkey
seems to want a raincoat.

photo: rain lights by kateey

Horses and Men in Rain
by Carl Sandburg

LET us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter’s day, gray wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window,
And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery boys.

Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot punches—and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys slipping along the icy sidewalks.
Let us write of olden, golden days and hunters of the Holy Grail and men called “knights” riding horses in the rain, in the cold frozen rain for ladies they loved.

A roustabout hunched on a coal wagon goes by, icicles drip on his hat rim, sheets of ice wrapping the hunks of coal, the caravanserai a gray blur in slant of rain.
Let us nudge the steam radiator with our wool slippers and write poems of Launcelot, the hero, and Roland, the hero, and all the olden golden men who rode horses in the rain.

photo: After the Rain by Grace-Note

When The Sun Come After Rain
by Robert Louis Stevenson

WHEN the sun comes after rain
And the bird is in the blue,
The girls go down the lane
Two by two.When the sun comes after shadow
And the singing of the showers,
The girls go up the meadow,
Fair as flowers.

When the eve comes dusky red
And the moon succeeds the sun,
The girls go home to bed
One by one.

And when life draws to its even
And the day of man is past,
They shall all go home to heaven,
Home at last.

Interesting Artist

Tags

Art, artists, modern art, Theresa Duncan

A link to this artist named Theresa Duncan was sent to me today.

Something like Winter
by Theresa Duncan

More on this artist and her portfolio at Saatchi Online art community.

I don’t think I’m losing my mind…I only sometimes can’t remember where it is….I’ll ask ChaCha

Tags

Books, ChaCha, funny, Google, I Remember Nothing, life, memory, memory loss, Nora Ephron, senior moment

I don’t think I’m losing my mind. I however, do have those moments. Along with two other books (which may be why I can’t find my mind sometimes),  I’m currently reading Nora Ephron’s latest, I Remember Nothing and Other Reflections, mainly because like her previous book, I Feel Bad About My Neck, the title cracks me up…and subsequently makes me curious.

The first essay is I Remember Nothing and I got stuck there with inspiration because I can relate to losing your memory in some of the ways Ephron exposes. Here she talks about technology and Google:

“I was curious about technology. I became a champion of e-mail and blogs–I found them romantic; I even made movies about them. But now I believe that almost anything new has been put on the earth in order to make me feel bad about my dwindling memory…I am living in the Google years, no question of that. And there are advantages to it. When you forget something, you can whip out your iPhone and go to Google. The Senior Moment has become the Google moment, and it has a much nicer, hipper, younger, more contemporary sound, doesn’t it?”

I don’t know how many times we are trying to think of some actor in some movie and can’t remember the bugger’s name…so we Google it and get our instant answer. I used to be good at this. I could remember names, movies, years, the songs of that year, etc, who performed the song, who was president. Now, I have to sit and think…and sometimes it doesn’t come back. What is happening?

My girl’s have this ChaCha site on their phones that they text. It will answer relatively any question you ask it, even if Anderson Cooper is gay, which we asked it one time while we were watching 360 and pondering that his mother is Gloria Vanderbilt, but I digress here. Mainly I’ve have them Cha-Cha something I can’t think of. Other than that, when on my own I notice things I’m forgetting, like why I went into the kitchen. I stop, get a drink of water, doodle with the magnetic poetry on the fridge, and then just as I’m ready to leave I realize I came in to get the spray cleaner from under the sink to take upstairs for the bathroom mirror. I may be half-way up the steps before I remember that’s what I came down for.

Mind you, my witty people, I’m not that old. Middle aged is hardly old. And I’m not near Nora Ephron’s age, but I still worry. Anyone else worry? I was considering that I may have the first stages of Alzheimer’s, but then I also read somewhere that pre-menopause can cause some sudden short-term memory loss…great! I’m screwed not matter what.

I first noticed memory changes after my first daughter was born. I was still in my twenties. Seriously, I could not remember a thing. I’d leave the headlights on in the car, or forget to lock the front door. I’d set a book down somewhere and then be searching for it. I thought I was literally losing my mind until I saw an interview of the actress Tea Leoni on TV. (She’s married to David Duchovney, Mulder of X-files fame, or are they divorced now? I remember hearing something about porn-addiction. I, of course don’t remember what happened?) Tea said that she felt like she lost half her brain cells after she had her first child, and that she feels you lose more and more with each subsequent addition to your family brood. I started laughing. I wasn’t alone. It was good to hear. I’ve liked her since.

Any memory issues out there among you?
Link for review of I Remember Nothing is here.

By the way, ChaCha said that Anderson Cooper has not publicly discussed his sexuality, in case you were wondering and might lose sleep tonight over that, and of course I share because I do remember it…And if anyone knows the status of the Duchoveny marriage, please let me know.

Never mind, I’ll ChaCha it!!

 

When I think

Tags

inspiration, life, literature, poems, poetry, Robert Creeley, the sky, thoughts, When I think

by Robert Creeley

When I think of where I’ve come from
or even try to measure as any kind of
distance those places, all the various
people, and all the ways in which I re-
member them, so that even the skin I
touched or was myself fact of, inside,
could see through like a hole in the wall
or listen to, it must have been, to what
was going on in there, even if I was still
too dumb to know anything – When I think
of the miles and miles of rads, of meals,
of telephone wires even, or even the water
poured out in endless streams down streaks
of black sky or the dirt roads washed clean,
or myriad, salty tears and suddenly it’s spring
again, or it was – Even when I think again of
all those I treated so poorly, names, places,
their waiting uselessly for me in the rain and
I never came, was never really there at all,
was moving so confusedly, so fast, so driven
like a car along some empty highway passing,
passing other cars – When I try to think of
things, of what’s happened, of what a life it
and was, my life, when I wonder what it meant,
the sad days passing, the continuing, echoing deaths,
all the painful, belligerent news, and the dog still
waiting to be fed, the closeness of you sleeping, voices,
presences, of children, of our own grown children,
the shining, bright sun, the smell of the air just now,
each physical moment, passing, passing, it’s what
it always is or ever was, just then, just there.

____________________

image: The Sky [click image for artist link]

The last of summer…

Tags

End of summer, fall, flowers, life, macro photography, musings, Photography, summer, sun

Summer hits the road for another year as of tomorrow and I thought I’d share a few last shots I took over these last few weeks. It’s funny, how all winter long I can’t wait for the sun and heat and then when the sun and heat ends I feel relieved. No secret; fall is my favorite time of year, but this year I’m feeling a little nostalgic for the passed summer…I perhaps feel that I missed something, but cannot detect what it is…so my sense of relief is a bit tainted today. In any case, hope you enjoy these shots.

Two weeks ago on my deck, aiming for this pale yellow butterfly eating the last of my hanging plant’s wonders…on the second shot I caught this bumble bee in action.

The Dahlias still seem quite happy despite the cool nights…the die-hards of summer.

Any last of summer thoughts?

Liu Bolin takes art to a new level…

Tags

Art, artists, Lui Bolin, painting, Photography

Not too long ago Chinese artist Lui Bolin was featured on ABC evening news…and I his work fascinating. The time alone to set up each piece stuns me.

What confuses me however is who the artist is? Is Bolin the man standing like an invisible man in these pictures, or is he the artist who paints him?

Let me know what you think…

Can’t resist this…!…

Tags

Art, drawings, funny, Illustration, Music, owls, The Beatles

link

Fashionable Celia Birtwell

Tags

60s, 70s, Books, Celia Birtwell, David Hockney, designers, fashion, fashion design, Illustration, Ossie Clark, vintage

One of my favorite painting of all time is Mr. and Mrs. Clark and Percy by David Hockney. I have to admit, as much as I’ve admired and studied this painting, I never took the time to find out about the subjects themselves. I became mesmerized with the life of Celia Birtwell, the girl in the painting who was married to the fashion designer of the 60s and 70s Ossie Clark. He was killed in 1996. Celia Birtwell is a wonderful textile and fashion designer, as well as fashion illustrator. Her new self-titled book, Celia Birtwell (St. Martin’s Press) chronicles her career spanning over 50 years and is laced with images of her life with her dear talented late husband.

Celia is now a fashion designer with her own line of vintage and contemporary clothing as well as fabric, wallpaper, accessories and elegant living designs for home interiors and exteriors. Check out a nice article about her from 2008 here.

What she says about her illustration: “I used to draw the model’s face first. If she looked grumpy I wouldn’t carry on.”

Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell in the 1970s.

Celia now. Still gorgeous and inspiring.

Ossie Clark fashion

Vintage Ossie Clark Blouses
link

“Fashion is a big business now. In my generation, there was an innocence to it…”
~Celia Birtwell

Celia Birtwell moodboard

Love this! Vintage Ossie Clark for Radley Maxi Smock Dress
link

Celia Birtwell.com

Gemini Horoscope for this week…

Tags

astrology, blue fire, Gemini, horoscopes, love

You have cosmic clearance to fall deeply, madly, and frequently in love, Gemini. In fact, it’s OK with the gods of fate and the angels of karma if you swell up with a flood of infatuation and longing big enough to engorge an entire city block. The only stipulation those gods and angels insist on is that you do not make any rash decisions or huge life changes while in the throes of this stupendous vortex. Don’t quit your job, for instance, or sell all your belongings, or dump your temporarily out-of-favor friends and loved ones. For the foreseeable future, simply enjoy being enthralled by the lush sexy glory of the liquid blue fire.

I love “the lush sexy glory of the liquid blue fire”…

image: blue fire    

text: Free Will Astrology

The Freshness by Rumi

Tags

freshness, God, inspiration, life, love, Photography, poems, poetry, spirituality, Tuesday

When it’s cold and raining
you are more beautiful.

And the snow brings me
even closer to your lips.

The inner secret, that which was never born,
you are the freshness, and I am with you now.

I can’t explain the goings,
or the comings. You enter suddenly,

and I am nowhere again.
Inside the majesty.

[image: tuesday by popoks]

…a head of steam…

Tags

Art, artists, inspiration, life, quotes, Writers, Writing

“You build up a head of steam. If you’re four days out of the studio, on the fifth day you really crash in there.  You will kill anybody who disturbs you on that fifth day, when you desperately need it.”

~ Susan Rothenberg

This is sometimes how I feel when I’m on the edge of completing something in writing and I get interrupted…it’s like your mere presence in a room means that you are free for consultation about the stuff in the blue container in the fridge…

image: Studio di testa by Roberto Faiola

The body Alicia…

Tags

Alicia Sacramone, Current events, ESPN, gynastics, gynists, Olympic Atheletes, Photography, The Body Issue

http://espn.go.com/video/clip?id=7056397

Alicia Sacramone is gorgeous…

Good to Go show

Tags

Art, artists, Bowery Poetry Club, Culture, Current events, fashion, funny, inspiration, NYC, performance

…a mishmash of performance art including stand-up sketches, comedy, gripping drama, and burlesque-type choreography, all at the Bowery Poetry Club, where artists in the making still find their home.

More at Notes From the Underground

The “familiar spirit”- do you believe?

Tags

angels, Biblical, Culture, good and evil, Halloween, History, myths, Photography, religion, spirit, twilight

Further exploration into the belief in angels:

Biblical angels were “sons of God” who came to earth to beget children on mortal women (Genesis 6:4). Later these were called demons, or “fallen” angels. The Book of Enoch blames women for the angels’ fall. Women had “led astray the angels of heaven.”  In the Magic Papyri (a collection of exorcisms, invocations, charms, and spells widely circulated during the early Christian era), the words angel, spirit, god, and demon were interchangeable. When St. Paul said women’s heads must be covered in church “because of the angels” (1 Corinthians 11:10), he meant the daemones supposed to be attracted to women’s hair.  The Greeks thought that each person had an individual guardian angel or daemon which could appear in animal form, and under Christianity evolved into the “familiar spirit.”  There were no really well-defined distinctions between angels, demons, familiars, fairies, elves, saints, genii, ancestral ghosts, or pagan gods.  Among supernatural beings one might always find many hazy areas of overlapping identities, even “good” or “evil” qualities being blurred.

A Gallup poll showed in 1978 that over half of Americans still believe in angels.

Do you believe?

My official 13 days of Halloween will start tomorrow and continue through All Saints Eve. Consider today’s a warm-up post…I promise more haunted, scary, and hopefully fun posts to follow.

Today’s images:
Cemetery Angels by midnightstouch
Angel of Waverly Cemetery via fabianfoo.com

Source: Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

Book of the Dead, Prayer 14

Tags

13 Days of Halloween, book of the dead, creepy, Halloween, poems, poetry, poets, the dead

Good-bye,
try to stay awake now you’re dead.
Look hard at those demons
and don’t be afraid.
All the bright lights and bells
are yourself returning
from wandering.
Try to look at them.
What terrifies
you must be beautiful.
I won’t cry, make you sad.
If you embrace these assaults you’ll be free.
But of course you are frightened.
Hair stiffens
all over you. So you’ll fall
back down to us, back
into another dying body.
So I’ll see you again.
Maybe without knowing you,
also knowing.
I tell you so you won’t worry.
Try to stay awake.

~Mei-Mei Berssenbrugge

Welcome to the start of the 13 Days of Halloween. Visit for the next 13 days to get your scare on…
click image above for artist’s link

The Ghost of Montparnasse Cemetery

Tags

cemeteries, creepy, famous graves, ghosts, graveyards, Halloween, Montparnasse, Paris, the dead, Writing

Montparnasse inhabitants can be ‘reawakened’ with a little help from a smartphone

Paris is well-known for its cemeteries, the most famous being Pere Lachaise, where tourists seek out the tomb of Oscar Wilde. But I live next to another great 19th Century cemetery in Montparnasse – and when I go there I always take my phone.

It is funny how we love a graveyard…

Read more about the fascinatingly creepy yet beautiful Montparnasse Cemetery in this article by Hugh Schofield

 

Cemetery Cats

Tags

black cats, cat photography, cats, Cats in Art, cemeteries, cemetery cats, Halloween, Photography

Artist quote: “there are hundreds of cats living in a cemetery of Sao Paulo…resting on the tombs…” ~ poivre

Lafayette Cemetery is located in Historical Gardens District. New Orleans, Louisiana. Location used in Anne Rice novels.  Lafayette Cemetery Cat by SalemCat

From what I’ve found there are many feral cats living in cemeteries. Perhaps it’s the warmth of the sun on the stone that attracts them to sit on the grave markers…or perhaps it’s something else altogether….

Artist note: “A black cat seen at the Pere-Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. Cemetery Queen by marielf   

Sleeping cat in Yanaka cemetery in Tokyo. Photo: syna1

The cat in the cemetery by Bulentcalli. Taken in Istanbul.

Cemetery in London. Photo: thelost82

Black as a Cat
photo by Waterproof Velvet

…this forest savage…

Tags

13 Days of Halloween, Dante, dark forest, Divine Comedy, fiction, Inferno, life, myths, Photography, poems, poetry

Poetry of Dante Alighieri
The Divine Comedy – Inferno

Inferno: Canto I

Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.

Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say
What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
Which in the very thought renews the fear.

So bitter is it, death is little more;
But of the good to treat, which there I found,
Speak will I of the other things I saw there.

I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
So full was I of slumber at the moment
In which I had abandoned the true way.

But after I had reached a mountain’s foot,
At that point where the valley terminated,
Which had with consternation pierced my heart,

Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,
Vested already with that planet’s rays
Which leadeth others right by every road.

Then was the fear a little quieted
That in my heart’s lake had endured throughout
The night, which I had passed so piteously.

And even as he, who, with distressful breath,
Forth issued from the sea upon the shore,
Turns to the water perilous and gazes;

So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward,
Turn itself back to re-behold the pass
Which never yet a living person left.

image: Dark Forest by Kimmo Savolainen

Totemic Form – woman or crow

Tags

13 Days of Halloween, Art, crows, Culture, death, dreams, myths, ravens, symbolism

The vulture, raven, and carrion-eating crow were the Death-goddess symbols of ancient Europe. Valkyries, described as man-eating women, often took the totemic form as ravens or crows.

In Anglo-Danish myths a witch named Krake (Crow) was the daughter of the Valkyrie Brunnhilde.  Krake was a shape-shifter and could transform herself into a beautiful virgin or a hag or a monster or a crow.

The Three Ravens (Kraken) in old ballads were birds of doom perching over a slain hero. Sometimes there were two, as in the Ballad of Two Crows who supposedly plucked out the eyes of a dead knight.

Dreaming of crows can symbolize a sudden change in life, or perhaps death.

Native American Spirituality gives the crow this measure:

As a child I remember my Aunt telling me this poem for the omens associated with the number of crows seen at a time.
One is for bad news, Two is for mirth.
Three is a wedding, Four is a birth.
Five is for riches, Six is a thief.
Seven is a journey, Eight is for grief.
Nine is a secret, Ten is for sorrow.
Eleven is for love, Twelve for joy tomorrow.

A single crow is interpreted by some as the foretelling of ill health.

images:
Ravens Flight by jayderosalie
The Three Ravens by Melan

Read more: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_symbolic_signinficence_of_crows#ixzz1bLLAYIBp

poor, dear, dear Madam Mina – tell us exactly what happened…

Tags

13 Days of Halloween, Books, Bram Stoker, Dracula, fiction, Film, literature, novels, stories, Writing

“And now, Madam Mina – poor, dear, dear Madam Mina – tell us exactly what happened. God knows that I do not want that you be pained; but it is need that we know all. For now more than ever has all work to be done quick and sharp, and in deadly earnest. The day is close to us that must end all, if it may so be; and now is the chance that we may live and learn.”

The poor dear lady shivered, and I could see the tension of her nerves as she clasped her husband closer to her and bent her dead lower and lower still on his breast. The she raised her head proudly, and held out one hand to Van Helsing, who took it in his, and after stooping and kissing it reverently, held it fast. The other hand was locked in that of her husband, who held his other arm thrown round her protectingly. After a pause in which she was evidently ordering her thoughts, she began: -

“I took the sleeping draught which you had so kindly given me, but for a long time it did not act. I seemed to become more wakeful, and myriads of horrible fancied began to crowd in upon my mind – all of them connnected with death, and vampires; with blood, and pain, and trouble.” Her husband involuntarily groaned as she turned to him and said lovingly: “Do not fret, dear. You must be brave and strong, and help me through the horrible task. If you only knew what an effort it is to me to tell this fearful thing at all, you would understand how much I need your help. Well, I saw I must try to help the medicine to its work with my will, if it was to do me any good, so I resolutely set myself to sleep.  Sure enough sleep must soon have come to me, for I remember no more. Jonathan coming in had not waked me, for he lay by my side when next I remember.  There was in the room the same thin white mist that I had before noticed. But I forget now if you know of this; you will find it in my diary which I shall show you later.  I felt the same vague terror which had come to me before, and the same sense of some presence.  I turned to wake Jonathan, but found that he slept so soundly that it seemed as if it was he who had taken the sleeping draught and not I. I tried, but I could not wake him.  This caused me a great fear, and I looked around terrified.  Then indeed my heart sank within me:  beside the bed, as if he had stepped out of the mist – or rather as if the mist had turned into his figure, for it had entirely disappeared – stood a tall, thin man, all in black.  I knew him at once from the descriptions of the others.  The waxen face; the high aquiline nose, on which the light fell in a thin white line; the parted red lips, with the sharp white teeth showing between; and the red eyes that I had seemed to see in the sunset on the windows of St. Mary’s Church in Whitby.  I knew, too, the red scar on his forehead where Jonathan had struck him. For an instant my heart stood still, and I would have screamed out, only that I was paralysed.  In the pause he spoke in a sort of keen, cutting whisper, pointing as he spoke to Jonathan: -

” ‘Silence!  If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains out before your very eyes.’  I was appalled and was too bewildered to do or say anything.  With a mocking smile, he placed one hand upon my shoulder and , holding me tight, bared my throat with the other, saying as he did so: ‘First, a little refreshment to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet; it is not the first time, or the second, that your veins have appeased my thirst!’  I was bewildered, and, strangely enough, I did not want to hinder him.  I suppose it is a part of the horrible curse that this happens when his touch is on his victim.  And oh, my God, my God, pity me! He placed his reeking lips upon my throat!”  Her husband groaned again. She clasped his hand harder, and looked at him pityingly, as if he were the injured one, and went on: -

“I felt my strength fading away, and I was in a half swoon. How long this horrible thing lasted I know not; but it seemed that a long time must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away. I saw it drip with the fresh blood!”

~from Dracula by Bram Stoker

With all the vampire books out now a days I thought I’d share a piece of the literary original vampire tale, one of the best of all time! Thanks for reading…and do let me know what vampire literature you happen to love…

Image is of Winona Ryder and Gary Oldman for the movie Bran Stoker’s Dracula.

 

Cemetery Images

Tags

13 Days of Halloween, cemeteries, cemetery, Halloween, Photography

cemetery by PurpleJackdaw

Highgate Cemetery II by Jez92

Highgate Cemeter III by Jez92

Verano Cemetery Rome by Creepy Eyes

Cemetery by Deafy

Remembering Theresa…

Tags

Arthur Rimbaud, drunken boat, fragile as a butterfly, friend, Halloween, poetry, Theresa Duncan

Another birthday passes for our lost friend Theresa Duncan… I’ve been told she always loved this time of year and actually celebrated her birthday on Halloween when she was alive.  We at The Wit Continuum remember this inspiring muse…

Here an excerpt of The Drunken Boat by Arthur Rimbaud, which Theresa once read in a recording with Wilbur King III.

But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking.
Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter:
Sharp love has swollen me up with heady langours.
O let my keel split! O let me sink to the bottom!

If there is one water in Europe I want, it is the
Black cold pool where into the scented twilight
A child squatting full of sadness, launches
A boat as fragile as a butterfly in May.

I can no more, bathed in your langours, O waves,
Sail in the wake of the carriers of cottons,
Nor undergo the pride of the flags and pennants,
Nor pull past the horrible eyes of the hulks.

Happy Birthday and Happy Halloween where ever you are…

Slice of Bread

Tags

costumes, Film, funny, Halloween, humerous, Theresa Duncan, videos

Art for Creeps Sake by Zdzislaw Beksinski

Tags

artists, Bram Stoker, creepy art, Halloween, literature, Mary Shelley, quotes, scary art, Zdzislaw Beksinski

Zkzislaw Beksinski

The moon gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding-places. ~Mary Shelley

He may not enter anywhere at the first, unless there be some one of the household who bid him to come, though afterwards he can come as he please. -Bram Stoker

Dark, dark! The horror of darkness, like a shroud, wraps me and bears me on through mist and cloud. ~Sophocles

Tags

Art, creepy, Halloween, literature, poems, poetry, Robert Herrick, scary, Scary poetry, stories, Zdzislaw Beksinski

The Hag by Robert Herrick

The Hag is astride,
This night for to ride;
The Devill and shee together:
Through thick, and through thin,
Now out, and then in,
Though ne’r so foule be the weather.

A Thorn or a Burr
She takes for a Spurre:
With a lash of a Bramble she rides now,
Through Brakes and through Bryars,
O’re Ditches, and Mires,
She followes the Spirit that guides now.

No Beast, for his food,
Dares now range the wood;
But husht in his laire he lies lurking:
While mischiefs, by these,
On Land and on Seas,
At noone of Night are working,

The storme will arise,
And trouble the skies;
This night, and more for the wonder,
The ghost from the Tomb
Affrighted shall come,
Cal’d out by the clap of the Thunder.

 

image: Zdzislaw Beksinski

Halloween, It was night in the lonesome October…

Tags

Edgar Allen Poe, Halloween, literature, October, poems, poetry, scary stories, stories, Tales, Ulalume

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crispèd and sere —
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year;
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir —
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

…

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crispèd and sere —
As the leaves that were withering and sere,
And I cried — “It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed — I journeyed down here —
That I brought a dread burden down here —
On this night of all nights in the year,
Oh, what demon has tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber —
This misty mid region of Weir —
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.”

Said we, then — the two, then — “Ah, can it
Have been that the woodlandish ghouls —
The pitiful, the merciful ghouls —
To bar up our way and to ban it
From the secret that lies in these wolds —
From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds —
Had drawn up the spectre of a planet
From the limbo of lunary souls —
This sinfully scintillant planet
From the Hell of the planetary souls?”

~~~~ from Ulalume by Edgar Allan Poe~~~~

Read entire piece here… and a very Happy Halloween to all!

Purple Cemetery

Tags

cemeteries, cemetery, creepy, death, Halloween, haunted, Photography, resting souls

And so I’m wrapping up the 13 Days of Halloween series. Hope you’ve enjoyed some of my haunted posts, got a chill or two, and ultimately feel inspired for the day of scares and tricks and treats of Halloween tomorrow. So I leave you today with one last cemetery image that I love. The color work I think is so pretty…with the haunted vibe of death and resting souls.

Caterina Medicis photo

Tags

Am Writing, beauty, I must be crazy, inspiration, life, love, NaNoWriMo, wit, Writers, Writing

On a bit of vacation from The Wit Continuum for November, due to the National Novel Writing Month challenge I’m giving myself, among other things du jour…

50,000 words
30 Days
1667 words a day

Wish me luck…

I post some updates and you can catch me more at Wit+Beauty for some philosophical quotes to inspire life and beauty to please the eye.

The spiritual life…

Tags

inspiration, life, Photography, quotes, spiritual, spirituality, Zen

“The spiritual life is about becoming more at home in your own skin.”

~Parker J. Parker~

*image: Zen and House Maintaining by Bulentcalli

Be Sparkled: Breaking Dawn is coming…

Tags

Books, Breaking Dawn, fiction, Kristen Stewart, love, movies, Robert Pattinson, teens, twilight, Twilight Saga

I happen to love this picture…which is not from the movie, so don’t get your knickers in a twist…oh, uh, too late?

Poetry, and them some….

Tags

blogs, inspiration, life, love, poems, poetry, thoughts

Need a stream-of-conscience life-changing poetry fix?…

Wander over to Spilling Some

He will be missed…

Tags

60 minutes, Andy Rooney, household name, journalists, life, Obituaries, quotes, Writers

I often on a Sunday night would try to catch at least the last ten minutes or so of 60 Minutes, just hear the cantankerous voice and gruff opinions of the indomitable Andy Rooney, a guy who’s inspired and made me think my entire life.  He was a household name and at the ripe age of 92 he passed away due to complications from surgery. He retired from CBS in late September of this year.  Shit! The world feels like a different place knowing this old dude is gone.  Here’s a link to the Times Global article and full story.

And now a few great quotes in honor of this cool journalist:

“If dogs could talk, it would take a lot of fun out of owning one.”

“Anyone who watches golf on television would enjoy watching the grass grow on the greens.”

“Computers make it easier to do a lot of things, but most of the things they make it easier to do don’t need to be done.”

“Happiness depends more on how life strikes you than on what happens.”

“I didn’t get old on purpose, it just happened. If you’re lucky, it could happen to you.”

“If you smile when no one else is around, you really mean it.”

I smiled as I typed out all these quotes…and no one else was in the room…thanks Andy!

Say I Am You

Tags

inspiration, life, love, Photography, poems, poetry, quotes, Rumi, spirituality, stories, Writing

I am dust particles in sunlight.
I am the round sun.

To the bits of dust I say, Stay.
To the sun, Keep moving.

I am morning mist,
and the breathing of evening.

I am wind in the top of a grove,
and surf on the cliff.

Mast, rudder, helmsman, and keel,
I am also the coral reef they founder on.

I am a tree with a trained parrot in its branches.
Silence, thought, and voice.

The musical air coming through a flute,
a spark of a stone, a flickering

in metal. Both candle,
and the moth crazy around it.

Rose, and the nightingale
lost in the fragrance.

I am all orders of being, the circling galaxy,
the evolutionary intelligence, the lift,

and the falling away. What is,
and what isn’t. You who know

Jelaluddin, You the one
in all, say who

I am. Say I
am You.

~Rumi

Image: Dust Particles by Dylan Viss

Splitscreen: A Love Story…a great video

Tags

inspiration, J.W.Griffiths, life, movies, Nokia Shorts, Photography, short films, split screen, Video

Winner of the 2011 Nokia Shorts competition, directed by J. W. Griffiths. Clever and mesmerizing…take a few moments and sit back. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

Penn State Blue Out

Tags

college football, Current events, football, football fan, news, Penn State, Penn State Blue Out, Penn State football, prayer

Tomorrow’s college football day will feature a Penn State Blue-Out. Everyone will wear blue tee-shirts or ribbons in support of the rights of children who were sexually abused.  The basic white, famously generic, helmets of the players may, and I stress may, feature the ribbon logo from what I’ve heard today.

Tonight, the student body will have a candle-light vigil to support abused children. All this comes after the media frenzy over the sexual abuse allegations by a retired assistant coach this past week that are haunting this otherwise great university. If you haven’t heard about this by now, you’ve no doubt been very busy under your rock under a mountain somewhere…the world news has even displayed it on the grandest of scales. Hope their rating were good, I say sarcastically. Just Google it and you’ll see.

I’ve always been a college football fan. Being the only child, and only daughter of a football crazed dad, I’ve been brought up loving football.  And, being a PA native, Penn State has always been a household fave. I am deeply saddened to hear about the atrocious crimes and the scars it is causing, which will last a long time to this fine university, and more so, for a life-time to the victims involved. Did the university officials turn a blind eye? Was there actually a cover-up? Why? The “why?” is my biggest question. Why not do the right thing?

There are a lot of unanswered questions out there. And I have no doubt some will never get answered. We can only hope and pray that something like this never, ever happens again to anyone…anywhere.

My heart goes out to all the children involved. I will light a candle tonight from my home in support of them, and in support of the student body of Penn State University who are trying to stand up of their school and become honored graduates of it in name and works. A few men and their poor decisions should not cast shame on the innocent, meaning the majority of staff and student body who cannot help that they knew nothing. I will wear my blue tomorrow as I watch the game from my home and I will fashion some blue ribbons, as a reminder to all the victims.

I will pray for them always.

I believe our powers of intention and prayer can make changes in this world. I sincerely hope the Penn State Blue Out will be a stepping stone to set things right.

Waiting for…

Tags

corner, life, love, musings, Photography, poems, poetry, silence, sky, waiting, Writing

On the corner
at the end of the sky
there is a spot
where one can guard their silence,
where one can wait
for another to see them.

If you’re not at that corner
at the most bewildered lovely time
it is not so much a passionate pain.
You can wait…
and in waiting for that moment
in the silence
of our celestial hearts

we sometimes find
a blown world, a beautiful eye
the most profound lips
that tell us, yes, they tell us…

this is what you were waiting for.

photo: the corner by mrcool1256

Why I’m a Book Lover Considering a Kindle…

Tags

Books, Culture, e-readers, humorous, Kindle, life, literature, personal, reading, Writing

Okay, okay! I know, I know! … an avid fan of the printed page, the smell of a new book, the smell of an old book, supporting ancient classic publication, the easy access to any page, anytime…all those valid reasons to swear devotion to the printed word. A real book is a treasure, and I even sport that badge on this blog – that stack of books over there in the sidebar which upon clicking declares my promise, vow, whatever to read, and only to read, the printed word. (I’ll have to take that down if my thought goes thru…). In any case, here is why I’m seriously thinking about going with an e-book reader, particularly the Amazon Kindle.

First off, the bugger is on $79 bucks right now! Seriously. And my mum’s offered to gift it for me for Christmas, reading fan that she is (She loves our local book swap store! and fears technology, yet she thinks I’d like this…and honestly, I do).  I looked up all the free books I can download…classics…for FREE! Like Anna Karenina, a tomb of a book at 862  pages that even a paper-back version isn’t easy to handle comfortably or carry around easily. And speaking of huge books, how about Gone With The Wind? 1,048 pages of classic fiction that is not easy to throw into your purse and pull out while you’re waiting at the dentist’s office. (I once had, and I stress HAD, a first edition copy, which is a whole other post on why you lend books to no one – family members, friends, priests – no one!) Now I can download GWTW on the Kindle for $9.99 and read it in it’s nearly weightless existence.  The Kindle can also be linked up to free library book lending using your local library card or now Amazon offers a one book a month free lend, which you can read with an option to purchase at the end.

So, with all that, and seeing it featured on the internet, and in the Best Buy and Staples flyers every weekend for weeks now, I ventured over to my local Staples and checked out this progressive disruption into my book-only-lover-life.

The Amazon Kindle via Tecca

It was smaller than I thought – which was nice I must say. It’s about as thick as an 80 page note-book and only about 7 inched long.  Roughly, it’s about the size of a paperback novel, but sleeker, smoother and so light in my hand. The screen is not shiny, which means glare-free reading anywhere, even in sunlight, and when it boasts to read like it book, I have to admit the pages do look like regular paper pages. Ads say you can bookmark and highlight text also. I haven’t done that, but I’ll take their word.

This little e-reader is nothing like reading on a computer. I can take it anywhere (not like my computer) and literally sit in my favorite chair by the fireplace (pun intended because it’s true!) and read. With a month-long battery life before it needs charging I think I’ll be okay.

I was told by the kind Staples employee that it holds 14oo books. OMG! Not 400, but 1400!  (The other more pricey Kindles hold 3500). I was impressed too that I can easily slip this into my purse and have it on hand anytime – and for me there are so many times when that I wish I had brought my book with me – like at the doctor’s office waiting room, waiting for kids at school events, boring dinner parties…;)

So, for me, the promise, vow, declaration, whatever it was, to read only the printed word is in dire jeopardy. The progress of technology has me in it’s clutches…Is the printed word on its way out? Is this the future for readers world-wide? Will we save trees?

I’ll still love, love, love my books. I’ll still buy and borrow the printed pages. I will still haunt the library book sale for a treasured tomb or two.  I’ll be anticipating this little baby at Christmas, and in the mean time will be lining up all those free books I plan to download…and ask for Amazon gift cards for Christmas from everyone else!

What’s you preference – real books or e-readers or a combo of both?
Or, if you have a Kindle, how do you like it? Let me know.

Book Beginnings: A Movable Feast

Tags

1920s, A Movable Feast, Books, Ernest Hemingway, fiction, literature, Paris, prose, reading, Writing

by Ernest Hemingway

A Good Cafe on the Place St.-Michel

Then there was the bad weather. It would come in one day when the fall was over. We would have to shut the windows in the night against the rain and the cold wind would strip the leaves from the trees in the Place Contrescarpe. The leaves lay sodden in the rain and the wind drove the rain agianst the big green autobus at the terminal and the Cafe des Amateaurs was crowded and the windows misted over from the heat and the smoke inside. It was a sad, evilly run cafe where the drunkards of the quarter crowded together and I kept away from it because of the smell of dirty bodies and the sour smell of drunkenness.  The men and women who frequented the Amateurs stayed drunk all of the time, or all of the time they could afford it, mostly on wine which they bought by the half-liter or liter. Many strangely named aperitifs were advertised, but few people could afford them except as a foundation to build their wine drunks on. The women drundards were called poivrottes which meant female rummies.

________________

And so ends the opening paragraph of A Movable Feast, one of my favorite books.
If you know the people in the cover picture let me know. I recognize Hemingway, of course, and I believe that is Ezra Pound on the left, and I always thought the others were Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald, but the woman doesn’t look like Zelda. She looks too womanly to be Gertrude Stein. ? Let me know.

Vintage Pic of the Week

Tags

artists, beauty, Brigette Bardot, fashion, Jane Birkin, models, movies, Photography, vintage, women

Brigette Bardot and Jane Birkin

via Awesome People Hanging Out Together

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo – Rooney Mara

Tags

actresses, Books, Daniel Craig, fashion, Film, movies, people, Rooney Mara, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Vogue

Well. the American movie version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo will be here soon…and since I’ve read the book and haven’t seen the Swedish version, or its sequels, I’m looking forward to this one I guess. (I’ll have to cover my eyes for the rape scene…it’s simply the type of violence I cannot watch, or read for that matter, which is what frustrated me with the book…enough said). The movie is based on the successful posthumously released book series by Stieg Larsson. The casting of Daniel Craig is perfection I feel. We know him, we love James Bond, even if he’s a bit less than stellar as the British spy with nine or ten lives, and he was quite nice in The Golden Compass. He’ll be the perfect research/journalist/investigator/heart-throb that every woman wants to sleep with, and does, at least in the book anyway.

What really fascinates me is that this little known actress, Rooney Mara, will play the famously sexually abused slightly psychotic lead, pulled off the shelf by David Fincher (he had her there since his last film The Social Network, in which Mara played opposite Jesse Eisenberg as the girl who dumps the Facebook king in the snappiest opening dialogue exchange I’ve ever seen in film). Mara has a wondrous look, a fresh alert face that transcends beauty, an all too easy word to describe her. I, of course, love that she’s hit Vogue this month. What a great choice.

Vogue photography by Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott.

…and other magazine followed suit…

It’s hard to believe this is the same girl. Here she’s with her sister, actress Kate Mara.

This will be her break-out film, one that will top the box office no doubt. How does she feel about that?

“I’ve been trying to really live in the moment,” Rooney Mara says, “because I will never get this part of it back. As soon as the movie comes out, everyone will turn it into what they believe it is, so I’ve really been trying to appreciate every minute of now. Because I know what’s coming.”

Yeah, we do too.

What do you think? Are you going to see The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo? Have you read the book? Was it as good as all the hype?

Writer’s Depression – And Why I Can’t Finish a Novel

Tags

Books, fiction, humorous, novel writing, novels, short stories, Writers, Writing, writing process

I believe that I’m in some sort of systemic, overly-analytic, cataclysmic, slightly narcissistic writer’s depression…I don’t know why I cannot finish a novel-length story. It’s not like I haven’t done it before. I have two poorly written, in deep need of revision, 50,000 word or so novels sitting in my computer and in print, but for the past year or so I just can’t get a novel going…or keep it going. The ideas are there, the characters, well, they pop up and seem intriguing enough, but my well goes dry about half way through. True for revision work on those two first drafts too.

For a while I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I’m getting an idea now. My inner writer’s guide, Angelina (the opposite of my inner writing critic, Demonella) is telling me that I’m in a writer’s funk of sorts, a simple unambitious rut in which I have to hit reverse, then hit the gas and go forward again and bounce myself of it. Like what you’d do with a stuck car. And this can only be done one way – by writing, by practicing writing, writing down everything – story related or not – and doing it every day. It can only be cured this way, doing the deed, no matter it we feel like doing it or not.

So, let me be clear (as I’m writing this and watching a lame local Santa Parade on TV) that Angelina and Demonella are well known to all us writers, even if they are nameless, and they are very much present every time we put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. Every single time.  Like now, as I write this blog, Demonella is telling me “No one is interesting in why you can’t finish a novel, this little article’s a waste of a nice Saturday morning, and people are just going to think you’re nuts and hit “like” because they feel sorry for you. Or not “like” you at all.” At the same time, Angelina (she’s so beautiful) is telling me that there are a bunch of you out there in this blog-world we love, friends who visit often, and new ones who will stop in, who will find this interesting, who understand completely, and who will be glad to read about someone else going through the same thing…and besides doesn’t it feel really cool to unleash your writing mind dilemma, aka. writer’s depression on your blog? Oh, and you’re not crazy, people won’t think that, they’ll find me and Demonella humorous and clever and they will laugh and think you’re a brilliant witty writer. (Angelina’s the best huh?)

That said (thanks for staying with me if you’re still reading this!) : Why can’t I finish a novel?  Or, why, if I have one or two finished, can’t I re-write one for publication?

I don’t believe it’s doubt, or lack of ambition. I want to write, feel like I need to write. I’ve analyzed why I quit half-way through, why my enthusiasm at the start, the writing frenzy, 2,000 words or more a day, me telling myself “You got a best seller here, baby!”…why it all just fizzles out…sometimes in the course of a few days, sometimes so abruptly as waking up in the morning. Writer’s depression in action.

Part of it I’m finding may be the writing process itself. I tend to write a detailed synopsis, outline, tie-in details, over define theme (as all my numerous writing books and magazines which I love to read and read and read tell me to do, which may also be a writer’s depression side-effect, doing more reading about how to write than actually writing), to the point that I know my story so well that it no longer surprises me, it no longer intrigues me, and the writing shows it. So, I leave it. Shelf it. Again.

I think that novel writing may be too long a process for me. The novel of any suitable length is a daunting experience to write. It is a test of a writer’s dedication to his story and I tremendously admire the ones that do it, and do it well. Some do it and suck, but, at least they do it. But that brings me to another problem of sorts, to November Novel Writing Month, which I support, but yet I wonder. It’s premise is to just get you to write, to make it a habit, to set a goal of so many words a day, to write anything, doesn’t matter, as long as you write and end up with 50,000 words of…Of crap?….But, I don’t want to write crap, which is why I dropped my NaMoWriMo excursion this year after a week.  It wasn’t working. Writer’s depression in action again?

So, what is this writer to do?

My juvenile need for quicker satisfaction (perhaps it’s not writer’s depression but writer’s ADD!) has led me to believe that I may not be cut out now, at this moment, to be a writer of novels. It has led me to the relevant and prodigious literary achievements of the beloved short story form. I love and have written over 40 short stories, short short ones, medium shorts, and 10,000 word longer short stories. Here’s a story form I think I can get into more, write one in less than a week, pat myself on the back, have tea with Angelina and give Demonella a swift kick in the ass, and get to my goal without that half-way ship abandonment.  There’s a sense of relief I feel, knowing I almost see the end of the story, that I’ll be there soon with literary grace and with time to spare. If this is writer’s ADD, oh well, it just may be what I have.

Okay, Demonella is telling screaming at me : You need a novel to get published, stupid! Short stories won’t do it.  I guess I can’t argue much with that. I’ve read plenty of times you need a novel under your belt before you can publish a book of short stories, but for now, for me, to conquer this writer’s depression and my writer’s ADD, it seems the right answer. Who know, maybe work in this writer’s process will lead me back to the novel enthusiasm again.

Fellow writers out there: What do you do to beat your own writer’s depression? Anyone sympathize with my dilemma? How do you handle your own Demonella and his or her trash talk?

Thanks for reading.

Click images above for artists’ links.

Black Dress XVIII

Tags

black dress, fashion, jewelry, Mila Kunis

Technically it’s a skirt and a top, I know, not a “dress”….but I absolutely love it…would be perfect for a New Year’s Eve party, yes?

Model: Mila Kunis
Source: www.theplace2.ru

Book Beginnings – The English Patient

Tags

book beginnings, Books, Film, literary fiction, literature, Michael Ondaatje, movies, Oscars, reading, The English Patient

I

The Villa

She stands up in the garden where she has been working and looks into the distance. She has sensed a shift in the weather. There is another gust of wind, a buckle of noise in the air, and the tall cypresses sway. She turns and moves uphill towards the house, climbing over a low wall, feeling the first drops of rain on her bare arms. She crosses the loggia and quickly enters the house.

In the kitchen she doesn’t pause but goes through it and climbs the stairs which are in darkness and then continues along the long hall, at the end of which is a wedge of light from an open door.

She turns into the room which is another garden–this one made up of trees and bowers painted over its walls and ceiling.  The man lies on the bed, his body exposed to the breeze, and he turns his head slowly towards her as she enters.

So begins one of the most spellbinding books of all time, The English Patient, by Michael Ondaatje. Since I’m currently reading his latest book (see sidebar at right), I thought I’d feature the beginning of one of my favorite books of all I’ve ever read, and definitely my favorite of Ondaatje’s. This book I’ve devoured at least three times, quite a feat for me, and I was quite obsessed with it in the 90s when it came out. Then, the movie followed…and what a movie…the Oscar’s Best Picture for that year, 1996 I believe. This is one movie that is as good as the book, and the book is as good as the movie, something that rarely happens.  Ralph Fiennes (way before Lord Voldemort, of the Harry Potter film series fame), Juliette Binoche, and Kristen Scott Thomas are so gorgeous in this film and perfectly cast…If you read the book, you can picture them completely as the roles you are reading.

If you’ve read the book, or seen the movie, you’ll know what this last picture is: Almasy’s book of Herodotus, well worn with reading, and stuffed with notes, the haunted journal of one of the most memorable characters ever written…

Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

60s, fashion, History, icons, Jackie Kennedy, kids, life, love, people, Photography, vintage

Image source unknown

Happy Thanksgiving

Tags

Culture, Current events, fashion, Happy Thanksgiving, Kate Moss, legs, models, Photography, Thanksgiving

 

Hope you get a leg….;)

Shopping With the Princesses Today…

Tags

bitch, Black Friday, Culture, fashion, funny, humorous, Princesses, shopping, wit

Today I’m off to shop with my Princesses…on Black Friday…I must be insane…or at my wit’s end, finally….I’ll be back tomorrow…if I make it….if I’m still alive….if some bitch doesn’t get in my way at Express….

image: Princess Shoe Shopping by Durnesque

Give me the splendid silent sun…

Tags

autumn, nature, poems, poetry, sun, thankful, thankfulness, Thanksgiving, Walt Whitman

I’ve been thinking about what I’m thankful for…you know, this time of year brings it out in most of us, and I find there are too many things that I’m thankful for, even for the things not yet to have happened, or the things not yet attained. But the simple things are always there, without a thought, without a second glance, nature, our surroundings, our basic comforts, all that we take for granted, which has somehow led me to this Walt Whitman poem today…

Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling,
Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard,
Give me a field where the unmowed grass grows,
Give me an arbor, give me the trellised grape,
Give me fresh corn and wheat, give me serene-moving animals teaching content,
Give me nights perfectly quiet as on high plateaus west of the Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars,
Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed,
Give me for marriage a sweet-breathed woman (man) of whom I should never tire,
Give me a perfect child, give me, away aside from the noise of the world, a rural domestic life,
Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my own ears only,
Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again, O Nature, your primal sanities!

Monday = Baby, I’m Ready to Go!

Tags

fashion, life, Music, Photography, ready to go, Republica, running

Like this version of the song the best…since there’s no video….

[click images for artist links]

Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

1920s, Djuna Barnes, journalists, Paris, Photography, Solita Solano, vintage, vintage photos, women, women writers

Solita Solano und Djuna Barnes in Paris
c. 1922
Maurice Brange, Au Cafe, 1922
source: www.delicatessen.org/paris and on Wikipedia page

Ah, Paris in the ’20s. I think I must have spent another life there…

Love, love the fashion style, the hats, the shoes, the guilt-free wearing of fur…What is Solita writing down?…What is Djuna saying?…

10 Reasons to Skip Christmas

Tags

Christmas, Christmas Trees, funny, holidays, humor, life, shopping, Skipping Christmas, vacation, winter

So it’s December 1, the unofficial first day of winter, according to my local weather man, and this Wit’s official day to start thinking about Christmas, though I’ve been thinking about it, honestly, for a few weeks now… this post is part of the results of such prolific thinking.  I’ve been hinting around the Continuum household that I’d love to be away for Christmas. Strange thing is, everyone agrees with me…but I know we won’t be going anywhere. Don’t get me wrong, I truly love Christmas, but don’t we all think sometimes, let it slip into our overworked brains, wouldn’t it be nice to just go to_________[insert your own Christmas dream vacation here].

That said, here are 10 Reasons to Skip Christmas…of course I have to follow up on this and give you 10 reasons why skipping Christmas is a bad idea, forgive me.

10 Reasons to Skip Christmas:

1. Saving Money. (who couldn’t use some extra cash now, you know, to buy a Kindle for yourself, or a new computer, or just pay off that credit card!)
2. Save a tree!
3. No writing Christmas cards. (Who are half these people anyway?)
4. No waiting in store check-out lines. (Wait, what, that’s the line to get in line? I have to go all the way back there? But I have to pee!)
5. Traffic.
6. Did I mention the traffic? (good reason to buy plane tickets online and hire a car to take you out to the airport!)
7. Seeing and being nice to people you don’t really care about. (you all know what I mean…)
8. Decorating the tree, and dealing with tangled Christmas lights, half of which go out during Christmas week.
9. Wrapping presents. (Seriously, all those paper cuts and tape sticking to everything but the fucking wrapping paper, who need it?)
10. That guy giving you the finger because you took his parking spot at Target. Merry Christmas asshole!

Okay, so here are 10 reasons Not to Skip Christmas:

1. Shopping, because it really is fun when you get into it.
2. Opening presents. (The kid in all of us needs this!)
3. Drinking. Christmas gives you an excuse to buy really expensive liquor, plus, all that liquor makes those people you don’t really care about a whole lot lovelier.
4. Seeing old friends and relatives.
5. Experiencing Peace and Love emotionally and spiritually.
6. Eating great food! (forget the diet! You look great as you are!)
7. Baking cookies with your kids, and eating half of them before you put them away.
8. Decorating the tree. We put on music. We sometimes drink wine. We make it a little party, just for us.
9. Preparing Christmas Eve dinner and pretending that you are Martha Stewart (or Gwyneth Paltrow, the new Martha Stewart).
10. Kissing under the mistletoe.

What are your reasons to skip Christmas? Or not too? Let me know.

Someone Digging in the Ground

Tags

inspiration, love, Photography, poems, poetry, Rumi, sand, sky, Soul, spirituality

An eye is meant to see things.
The soul is here for its own joy.
A head has one use; for loving a true love.
Legs: to run after.

Love is for vanishing into the sky. The mind,
for learning what men have done and tried to do.
Mysteries are not to be solved. The eye goes blind
when it only wants to see why.

A lover is always accused of something.
But when he finds his love, whatever was lost
in the looking comes back completely changed.
On the way to Mecca, many dangers: thieves,
the blowing sand, only camel’s milk to drink.
Still each pilgrim kisses the black stone there
with pure longing, feeling in the surface
the taste of the lips he wants.

This talk is like stamping new coins. They pile up,
while the real work is done outside
by someone digging in the ground.

~Rumi

Click image for artist link.

A Little Music on Monday – The Black Keys – Tighten Up

Tags

funny, humor, life, love, Monday, Music, music video, The Black Keys

Quite a creative take on a great song I’ve been hearing for weeks on the local Alternative station…I dare you not to laugh…and cringe a bit…

Book Beginnings – The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Tags

book beginnings, Books, F. Scott Fitzgerald, fiction, iconic, literature, movies, reading, The Great Gatsby, Writers

Once Again

to

Zelda

THE GREAT GATSBY

CHAPTER 1

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.

“Whenever you feel like criticising any one,” he told me, “just remember that all people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

He didn’t say any more, but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence, I’m inclined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores.  The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men.  Most of the confidences were unsought – frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon;  for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions.  Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope.  I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested,, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.

And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit.  Conduct may be found on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on.  When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever;  I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who give his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction – Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn.  If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if her were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away.  This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “creative temperament” – it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again.  No – Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

I know this was a rather long book beginning to feature, but I wanted Gatsby mentioned, and most of this narrative is used in the beginning of the classic 1974 movie version of The Great Gatsby, starring Robert Redford, Mia Farrow, Bruce Dern (who I once met) and Sam Waterston.

Here again, is another movie that lives up to the original literary achievement. (Don’t even mention that version that was put out about 15 years ago or so…whatever, it cannot compare to this one).  A new movie of The Great Gatsby is in production right now set to star Leonardo DiCaprio as Gatsby and Carry Mulligan as Daisy.  I do have hope for this one, and can’t wait to see it. In the meantime, Rob and Mia are the icons of this book of literature, which is by the way, one of the best reads ever! Download it on that Kindle when you can!

note: There are spelling “errors” in the excerpt above that are part of the F. Scott Fitzgerald’s original text which I’ve kept in with accuracy. Originally published in 1925 by Charles Scribner’s Sons.

Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

1960s, cameras, Music, Paul McCartney, Photography, photos, The Beatles, vintage

Paul McCartney, 1968

via So60s

Last night’s snow…

Tags

inspiration, life, musings, Photography, poetry, quotes, snow, winter

As predicted, our rain ended and this is the result of last night’s snow. It was heavy and wet and outlined each and every branch, infinitesimal and grand, and is now slowly, slowly, sliding off each possessive limb in clumps that look like giant’s snowflakes. The sky is without a cloud…

A little Snow was here and there
Disseminated in her Hair –
Since she and I had met and played
Decade had gathered to Decade –

But Time had added not obtained
Impregnable the Rose
For summer too indelible
Too obdurate for Snows –

~ Emily Dickinson

“Where does the white go when the snow melts?” ~Author Unknown

“There’s one good thing about snow, it makes your lawn look as nice as your neighbor’s.” ~ Clyde Moore

“A snowflake is one of God’s most fragile creations, but look what they can do when they stick together!” ~Author Unknown
all photos:©the wit continuum

Tags

awesome, blogs, Culture, fashion, inspiration, life, love, philosophy, quotes, Writing

Some Music on Monday: Paradise by Coldplay

Tags

Art, Coldplay, Monday, Music, paintings, Paradise, Salvador Dali, songs, Video, Vladimir Kush

Thought I’d share the song that opened up my day today…This video features  some cool artwork by Vladimir Kush and Salvador Dali. If you have 4 minutes enjoy.

Peace… on Monday…

Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

advertisement, cameras, Christmas, Christmas gifts, Culture, humorous, Kodak, Photography, vintage, vintage photography

Kodak Advertisement, 1962

For your Christmas gift giving ideas…loading is easy, convenient, sets its own exposure…less than $100…

What would that be today? around $1,000…

[photo source unknown]

Fashion Photography…

Tags

black and white, fashion, fashion photography, Photography

…by my super talented nephew whose website can be found here.  I have to ask you not to copy any of the images here unless permission is given by the artist. Thanks.

 

Book Beginnings – Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

Tags

book beginnings, Books, fiction, literature, Mrs. Dalloway, Virgina Woolf, women writers, Writing

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.

For Lucy had her work cut out for her. The doors would be taken off their hinges; Rumpelmayer’s men were coming.   And then, thought Clarissa Dalloway, what a morning – fresh as if issued to children on a beach.

What a lark! What a plunge! For so it had always seemed to her, when, with a little squeak of the hinges, which she could hear now, she had burst open the French windows and plunged at Bourton into the open air.  How fresh, how calm, stiller than this of course, the air was in the early morning; the kiss of a wave;  chill and sharp and yet (for a girl of eighteen as she then was) solemn, feeling as she did, standing there at the open window, that something awful was about to happen; looking at the flowers, at the trees with the smoke winding off them and the rocks rising, falling; standing and looking until Peter Walsh said, “Musing among the vegetables?” – was that it? – “I prefer men to cauliflowers” – was that it?  He must have said it at breakfast one morning when she had gone out on to the terrace – Peter Walsh.  He would be back from India one of these days, June or July, she forgot which, for his letters were awfully dull; it was his sayings on remembered; his eyes, his pocket-knife, his smile, his grumpiness and, when millions of things had utterly vanished – how strange it was! – a few sayings like this about cabbages.

This is perhaps the dullest book to read.
Who’s afraid of Virgina Woolf? I am, I am! I fear I may want to kill myself too before this book ends.

 

 

Like the moon…

Tags

friends, inspiration, life, light, moon, poems, poetry, quotes, Rumi

“Like the moon when it’s getting
smaller, yet knowing the fullness to come.
Like a seed pearl ground in the mortar of medicine,
that knows it will now be the light in a human eye.”

~Rumi, from Childhood Friends

Music for Monday – River by Sarah McLachlan

Tags

Christmas, holiday mood, Monday, Music, River, Sarah McLachlan, Skating, songs, Video

Listened to Sarah’s Christmas album this weekend, so beautiful, and perfection for my holiday mood this year…this song, one of my favorites, sad and sweet, lovely…great remake of the Joni Mitchell original.

Click images for artist links.

 

Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

1960s, Christmas, Jackie Kennedy, Photography, photos, vintage, vintage photography, White House Christmas

Jackie Kennedy with children, Christmas, 1961

For more great photos of the White House in 1961, visit A Very Jackie Christmas

Christmas Bells

Tags

Art, Christmas, Christmas Bells, inspiration, Longfellow, peace on earth, poems, poetry, spirituality

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!”

image: The Bells of Christmas by Sylanya

Tags

cats, Cats in Art, Christmas, Christmas cat, inspiration, life, musings, people, Photography, quotes

Isn’t it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for – I don’t know what exactly, but it’s something that you don’t mind so much not having at other times. 

~Kate L. Bosher

Click image for artist link.

The Peace of Christmas Eve

Tags

celebration, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas ornaments, inspiration, journal, love, peace, Photography, thoughts

There is something about the peace of Christmas Eve that makes it my favorite time of the holiday season. All the shopping is done. All the presents are wrapped, the cookies are baked, the cheesecake awaits. Then the blessed evening falls upon us…we are off in our best dresses, into the chilly air for Christmas Mass, the hymns, the bell choirs, the smell of incense…then home to warmth by the fire, the Christmas tree’s glow, a sip of wine, and an enchanted dinner to celebrate the day. We break a blessed Christmas wafer and pass it around, symbolic of our love and sharing.

May you be filled with love and joy and the peace of Christmas Eve.

Merry Christmas

all images©the wit continuum

Merry Christmas!

Tags

Christmas, love, Merry Christmas, Nativity, Photography

My Willow Tree Nativity Set

©photo: the wit continuum

I’m feeling…Versatile!

Tags

blog awards, blogging, blogs, Versatile blogger, Writing

I’m feeling so…versatile! (as well as eclectic).  I’d like to thank Heartwinds for the nomination for the Versatile Blogger award. Merry Christmas to me!

I’m truly honored and happy to have found so many new friends and followers lately here at The Wit Continuum. You all know who you are, those of you that click that little like button almost every day. I truly appreciate it.

Coming soon I’ll list seven things about me, and my own list of nominees for this honor.

Some quotes to think about…

Tags

inspiration, life, love, musings, quotes, spirituality, thoughts

Well, we are in the midst of holiday week. Some of us are off work. Me, well, I’m still recovering from the Christmas sweep. I call it a “sweep” because we literally did everything at the last minute, like shopping, wrapping, dinner prep. Decorating I’m proud to say was earlier this year.  So now I feel like I’m catching my breath a bit, reading (on my new Kindle people! which is a pain in the ass to download to without wifi, but I’ve got it figured out now, still haven’t set it up without wifi service. Pathetic, I know. Remember, I’m a B- computer technology geek. You should see me with the new iPhone….thank God for the teen Wits in my house or I’d be lost!!)

So, tech aside, with relaxation, and hopefully more blogging to follow, I’ve come across some short lines that can be interpreted in unique ways if we think about them. With the new year and resolutions abounding, a few of these little quips spoke to me. See if any strike a cord with you and let me know.

Many demolitions are actually renovations.

“There is great wisdom in washing these bedclothes. Wash them.”

He enters and see the hands of God washing his incredibly dirty linen.

Let body needs dwindle and soul decisions increase.

Listen to the prophets, not to some adolescent boy.

Cry easily like a little child.

Be wide as the air to learn a secret.

The only real rest comes when you are alone with God.

Live in the nowhere that you came from, even though you have an address here.

Keep open the shop
where you’re not selling fishhooks anymore.
You are the free-swimming fish.

All quotes from Rumi

Peace…

Versatile Blogger Nominations

Tags

awards, blog awards, bloggers, blogging, blogs, inspiration, Photography, poems, The Versatile Blogger, Writers

I’d like to thank again Linda Willows of Heartwinds for nominating me for The Versatile Blogger award.

This is a great award in which one gets to share some things about themselves and also nominate a few others who inspire them, who have some new and fresh takes on life. I love the idea of this. If we all follow each others nominees we would have an enormous network. For my nominations I will stick this blogs here at WordPress. I don’t think this is a rule, but something I just want to do.

Here are the rules for The Versatile Blogger:

1. Thank the award-giver and link back to them in your post.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Pass this award along to 15 recently discovered blogs you enjoy reading.
4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know about the award.

Now some things about The Wit Continuum…

I’d like to say that I’m some mysterious woman, who causes a shift in the atmosphere when she enters a room, that I’m terribly dark in nature and am an enigma of sorts. Really, I’m just like you. (Except sometimes when I’m driving street lamps pop out; this has been happening to me for years…)

I live in Northeastern Pa.  I love New York City. I sometimes dislike the weather and wish I lived in Florida. I love to read. I love to drive with the moon roof open on warm moon-lit nights in October.

I consider myself more spiritual than religious. I believe heaven is what we make of our lives, what we can experience here on earth, if we are now-here, instead of no-where.

I have a love/hate relationship with writing, and for a writer I guess this could be normal. I love creating a story; I hate editing it. I love free expression, blogging, poetry, drawing and illustration, art, painting, classical music, and architecture.

Some day I’d love to live in Europe for a while. Italy, Paris, London….Budapest…

I love being comfortable in my own skin.

I want to spend as much time as possible with my husband, and with my two teen daughters while I still can, before they grow up too much, before they go out into the world on their own.

That wasn’t so bad…now, some nominations. You guys inspire me, make me love what I do, keep me centered at times, and keep me coming back for more….

Just Under the Surface…My longest online friend with an inspiring blog on art, literature, music and culture….

Spilling Some…lovely, down-to-earth poetry that I can’t get enough of…

Camera Vagrant …emotion-filled photography; each pic tells a story. Love it!

My Story to You …life, love, relationships, parenting, a truly versatile heart

Chicquero …Nothing but an induced epidemic…versatile and inspiring photography

Deidra Alexander’s Blog …great fiction writer with cleverly fun posts to read

Hug in a Cup …deliciously versatile subject matter, all that and a bag of chips

A Broken Laptop … Mercedes M. Yardley’s writing blog; always inspiring

A Monkeyhanger’s Motley Medley…an eclectic mix of photos (on Freshly Pressed today!)

Joe’s Photo Blog…just another photo blog to occupy some time

Victor Travel Blog …fascinating photography from a guy who’s been, like, everywhere! I’m envious!

Indulge-Travel, Adventure, & New Experiences…need I say more? You rock, girl!

The Photo Roll Project …observations with film photography

Uncle Tree’s House….Spiritual poetry and stories and humor. I’m inspired.

Usyaka….my absolutely favorite black cat in the world; gorgeous and creative photography

Happy New Year to All!

Tags

Happy New Year, inspiration, kiss, life, love, New Years Eve, Photography, thoughts

A Kiss to you all as we bring in a fresh year, a new start, a clear surface to make muddy with all our inspiring work!

Happy New Year

from The Wit Continuum

[click image for artist]

Writing for the new year…

Tags

Am Writing, life, literature, musings, New year, novel, quotes, resolutions, thoughts, Writers, Writing

I completely hate resolutions, simply because when you can’t keep them you end up beating yourself up…but I have resolved to write every day this year. Something at least, no matter how small…but in the end, and hopefully before the year ends I mean,  I’ll have that novel ready. [Can't wait to get my own novel on my Kindle!]

So I’m off to type away this morning, but I leave with some a great writing comment:

Ninety percent of the work of writing is internal, and only ten percent happen at the typewriter. ~ Anonymous

I’ll get that internal work done also! So true.

Vintage Photo of the Week

Tags

60s, Jane Birkin, Photography, photos, Serge Gainsbourg, vintage

Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin

year unknown