Sometimes, I post poetry: Barter, by Sara Teasdale

Barter

by Sara Teasdale

Life has loveliness to sell,

All beautiful and splendid things,

Blue waves whitened on a cliff,

Soaring fire that sways and sings,

And childrens's faces looking up

Holding wonder in a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,

Music like a curve of gold,

Scent of pine trees in the rain,

Eyes that love you, arms that hold,

And for your spirit's still delight,

Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,

Buy it and never count the cost;

For one white singing hour of peace

Count many a year of strife well lost,

And for a breath of ecstacy

Give all you have been, or could be.

Photos/Ponderings: Dichotomies

Perhaps, we like dissonance because it is so full of expectation for resolution.
Perhaps, we like observing other people's tribulations from within our own safe shells.

No matter how long difficult times last, there is always hope of conclusion and mending, even when it should be left behind.
No matter how implausible an ideal denouement may be, we cling to it rather than take the tougher, circuitous path forward to our eventual goal.

And when we do have to accept an undesirable outcome, when one occurs despite our efforts, we change our way of thinking so that we may say, Yes, this is what I meant to happen. It is good.

Photos are both mine from this Autumn; Top are sailboats in Annapolis Harbor during the Boat Show, the sunset is from Chincoteague Island, VA. Both will get bigger if you click on them, but please don't steal w/out credit and due publicity.

ps. It seems that my photo posts are package deals with ponderings. And alliteration.

Signs of weakness, or, On being vulnerable

Unsolicited signs of affection, thoughtful little gifts, unexpected phone calls, showing up at the door unannounced, expressing opinions that you're sure are wrong, or at least unusual, admitting when you hurt and when you love, pointing out mistakes, offering help to friends and strangers...

I know this has been said before, but what's the benefit in hiding yourself? By not expressing our unique opinions and acting as we feel, people stuff themselves into the shapes they think everyone else wants to see. Then we become predictable, at worst, uninteresting and monotonous.

But, in hiding our real feelings, intentions, inclinations and not acting spontaneously or ad-libbing it once in a while, we are also safe. If you don't go to her door at 10 o'clock at night to tell her how you feel, you certainly wont get shut down, but you might also be missing the love of your life. Or at least the love of the next year. If you present what you think is a harebrained idea at the morning meeting, maybe everyone will think you're crazy, but then again, maybe that's just what they need, and chances are more crazy ideas will advance your stagnant career.

So, speak out and risk something every day, perpetuate unexpected deeds, and for heaven's sake, quit stalling your life.

Photo is mine, 9/4/2010 on the drive to Chincoteague, VA.

Quotations: I have taught myself joy

In my own worst seasons I've come back from the colorless world of despair by forcing myself to look hard, for a long time, at a single glorious thing: a flame of red geranium outside my bedroom window. And then another: my daughter in a yellow dress. And another: the perfect outline of a full, dark sphere behind the crescent moon. Until I learned to be in love with my life again. Like a stroke victim retraining new parts of the brain to grasp lost skills, I have taught myself joy, over and over again.

Barbara Kingsolver, High Tide in Tuscon.

Toothsome quotations: WASPs vs. YSL

The linguistic philosophers of France, especially the late Roland Barthes, understood how French cuisine and French culture are related, and how both fit with structuralist philosophy. A Parisian dinner is mean to be a single elegant statement, like a well-turned sentence or an outfit from Yves Saint-Laurent. The Anglo-Saxon view of a banquet can be expressed in terms of the history of the world. You begin with soup – water with things swimming in it – then move on to the aqueous kingdom, then to flying creatures, then to mammals. Finally you celebrate man in cheeses and desserts, both products of sophisticated culture. This is the diachronic view, which the French reject. They prefer to see the various courses as syntagms, or sentence components – soup adjective, fish noun, chicken adverb.

-Anthony Burgess, "The Language of Food" in Homage to Qwert Yuiop, found in The Ravenous Muse, Karen E. Gordon, ed.

Toothsome quotations: 'In herbis'

In an age when just the composition of a salad required a great knowledge of herbs, their flavours and combined tastes, it was commonly said that "In herbis, et in verbis et in lapidibus sunt virtues" ("There are powers in herbs, words, and stones"). The syncretic character of late medieval cuisine... finds a mirror-like reflection in the taste for farce and linguistic blending, and in the interweaving and overlapping of words. Farce, whether "stuffed" or "mixed," makes up the combination of seasoned ingredients which conspire to please the palate; it is the dietary archetype at the origin of linguistic structuring and presides over the stuffing of vocabulary and locutions.

-Piero Camporesi, Bread of Dreams, from the collection The Ravenous Muse, Karen E. Gordon, ed.

Today I decided to be impulsive [irony] and painted a tree on my wall.

I feel the earth move under my feet, I feel the sky tumbling down...

As days go, today was pretty relaxing in a decently busy way. Woke up early, got coffee out with a friend, did some laundry, painted a tree on my bedroom wall, went out for dessert with another friend (who's leaving the country next week, and this was the last time I'd see her until... ever? heck, no.), made decent dinner, and my roommate got a job (ok, that one's not me).

As an impulse project, this came out alright. I needed wider masking tape and less spackle on the wall (it came off a little with the tape), but honestly I'm pretty pleased. This wall was blank and bothersome, and I needed to actually go through with one of my hair-brained ideas, just to get rolling.

I still need to go back and touch up the edges, take off some of the hazy over-spray from the paint can. Thoughts?

Dear Mr. Freud...

...Thank you for reminding me that you were quite a misogynistic twit.

I just went back into my copy of Introductory Lectures on Psycho-Analysis from college to look up symbolism in dreams. I'd had one about quelques tours en l'air (a ballet jump where one leaps and turns one- to several times in the air) in which I could jump and then, Mary Poppins style, continue rotating casually much longer than gravity should have permitted. So I went to look up dreams about flying, only remembering something about their having to do with sex:

Dreams can symbolize erection in yet another, far more expressive manner. They can treat the sexual organ as the essence of the dreamer's whole person and make him himself fly. ...And do not make an objection out of the fact that women can have the same flying dreams as men. Remember, rather, that our dreams aim at being the fulfillments of wishes and that the wish to be a man is found so frequently, consciously or unconsciously, in women.

Right. That's it. My flying dreams are not, in fact, anything to do with a desire to escape the bounds of gravity (daily life) and to ascend to something more spectacular, to leave the humdrum behind, break free of seemingly unstoppable forces (gravity, society, money etc), they're really only about my wanting to be a man. Who would want to be a woman, anyway? bah.

The closest thing to home: Sharp residence, London

I see a lot of interior design ideas come across the web and in magazines, but this is the first that is really close to what I would like in my living room. There are a few key elements here:

• Built-in bookshelves. I require many, many of these for my books.
  
• Interesting design elements. Angles, antique ceilings, fireplaces, nooks and so on.
• Contrasting walls. I keep considering wallpaper, but I think paint is the way to go, because...
• Minimalism. Keeping it simple, even if there's some clutter.
• Warm, home like feeling. Generally attained through well-controlled clutter and lush fabrics, shiny metals.
• Well designed furniture and art pieces. I'd like to collect these from artist friends and around the world.
  

So, here, thanks to Christopher and Suzanne Sharp putting it together, Vogue's Francois Halard shooting it (full story behind link), and ApartmentTherapy posting the image, is the best representation of my vague ideas for the decoration of a living space:

In fact, the only thing in this image I really don't like are the two yellow chairs in the foreground. Otherwise, I would just have my own interpretations of what's present here.

Demons of Simulacra

Just when you think you've perceived a subject clearly - just when the glass, or the light, or the peephole that has allowed you to observe it with certitude - nature fools you. Blame it on perspective, on distortions in the medium, on the demons of simulacra: You can't always believe what you see. In optics it's called an aberration - when light is imperfect, when rays fail to converge to a sharply defined focus. It can be due to a flaw, to the distance, or perhaps even to a failure in the optic nerve. Astronomers know this as the aberration of heavenly bodies: You think you see a star to the left, but in fact it is to the right, because, though every hair on your head is in place, you are reeling through the universe at considerable velocity. This is very like the moment when you gaze out the window of a moving car and the rain looks as if it is falling sideways. It is now. Its trajectory is a plumb line toward the center of the earth, following the brute pull of gravity. But if you are planted serenely in your seat, it is hard to factor that you are rushing along the earth's surface, and so what you think you see happening isn't happening at all.

Cellophane, Marie Arana, p. 255.