Weblog 145
November 16, 2008~ 1:15pm
Now that the colder weather is upon us and the imtemperate, often harsh winds and sleets of late November are arriving, it's time to burrow in and make a cozy nest for yourself.
I am a firm believer in making a winter camp.
Look around you. After you've turned the key, and locked out the intrusions of the rest of life, is the space you enter at the end of a long day one that feels truly inviting? (Oh, not to everyone) and certainly not because House Beautiful would want to come in and take some pictures, but are you surrounded by things that give you comfort?
For me, it's books, soft music, LOTS of softer lighting, the warm fur of my old cat rubbing my ankles.....the smell of Colombian Roast coffee brewing in the kitchen....the hum of the refrigerator, sounding like the purr of an even greater sized cat, crouched in the other room and happy to be here.
And upstairs-- a bed with plenty of pillows-- comforter-- clocks ticking, and a mound of books on the nightstand, and a hot water bottle to take the chill out of climbing under the sheets.
These things are reassuring anytime, but in winter's austerity, there's nothing like a feeling of home- scents and textures, sounds and the crazy bric-a-brac we all accumulate, for we're staving off the same enemy- time and death: drawing lovely things around us to form breastworks against the advance of years and disease, and yes, our eventual demise.
Media vita in morte summus-- in the midst of life, we are in death- and that's every one of us-- right in the center of that picture. In my case, yes- smoking away- perhaps wearing a silly hat-- pulling flowers and bright trinkets toward ourselves-- perhaps candles to call or appease the gods we believe or try to believe in...
Winter is long. There are more hours of darkness. Fill what small portion of space that is truly yours with what you enjoy. Hibernate once that door is closed and locked for the day...
make a tent. Fill it up with light.
Tonight, we watched "The Constant Gardener".....very depressing film, great love story. Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Weisz made a believable and charming couple-
their love story set smack in the middle of the corruption of huge international drug companies using Africans as guinea pigs in their testing programs, while turning a blind eye to the many deaths that would skew the results. Very sad, very stark film, but oh lordie.......I can think of nothing as clear and pure as Ralph Fiennes' eyes.....
I've never seen a camera shot did not love the etheral quality of those amazing peepers. I watch them completely mesmerized. If Fiennes were a snake, and I some little desert critter- I'd surely be dead. Would not be able to escape their intensity and eerie inner light-source. Truly astonishing.
November 18, 2008~ 5:30pm
Consider this an early Thanksgiving gift from my house to yours.....
Do you like old pictures? How would you feel about a CORNUCOPIA of luscious, vintage photos taken by the best and the brightest photographers....well, here they are, via Google to you, by way of LIFE MAGAZINE.
Click on that 30's picture taken of a 'poor shack and two little brothers', and enter the past by way of Kodak-- watch it decade by decade. What a terrific site! I get lost in there. Hope you do too. My world seems to undergo a kind of "degaussing"- recentering and refocusing when I look through the lens of the long road we've been on--- meandering- deploying, exploding, dancing-- right up till now. We all need roots and an album to page through. This one's ours- all of ours. Enjoy your journey.
November 21, 2008~ 9:30am
I took a day off here, and was just perusing newspapers and sipping coffee, when a story hit me in the gut -- Fred the Parrot, so downcast nine months after his owner's death, he did nothing but sit on his perch and bob his head; he plucked all the feathers from around his neck and became disconsolate. Here's Fred's story. Click the picture.
We often mourn our pets, but oh, sometimes it's even worse.....our pets mourn us. Whatever will they do then, for care, for companionship? It's a sad world even when we can talk to one another, but what happens when there are no words to frame the hurt? Poor creatures everywhere who undergo this sort of cleaving from the life they knew...
I hope the anti-depressant helps the woebegone African Grey. We seldom think about how deeply run the ties between humans and the animals we care for, but they're there alright-- and when they're severed for the animal - without any way of explanation - how awful for the dears. Be well, Fred. Be well, buddy.
***
(Return To Weekly Archives)
Now that the colder weather is upon us and the imtemperate, often harsh winds and sleets of late November are arriving, it's time to burrow in and make a cozy nest for yourself.
Look around you. After you've turned the key, and locked out the intrusions of the rest of life, is the space you enter at the end of a long day one that feels truly inviting? (Oh, not to everyone) and certainly not because House Beautiful would want to come in and take some pictures, but are you surrounded by things that give you comfort?
For me, it's books, soft music, LOTS of softer lighting, the warm fur of my old cat rubbing my ankles.....the smell of Colombian Roast coffee brewing in the kitchen....the hum of the refrigerator, sounding like the purr of an even greater sized cat, crouched in the other room and happy to be here.
And upstairs-- a bed with plenty of pillows-- comforter-- clocks ticking, and a mound of books on the nightstand, and a hot water bottle to take the chill out of climbing under the sheets.
These things are reassuring anytime, but in winter's austerity, there's nothing like a feeling of home- scents and textures, sounds and the crazy bric-a-brac we all accumulate, for we're staving off the same enemy- time and death: drawing lovely things around us to form breastworks against the advance of years and disease, and yes, our eventual demise.
Media vita in morte summus-- in the midst of life, we are in death- and that's every one of us-- right in the center of that picture. In my case, yes- smoking away- perhaps wearing a silly hat-- pulling flowers and bright trinkets toward ourselves-- perhaps candles to call or appease the gods we believe or try to believe in...
Winter is long. There are more hours of darkness. Fill what small portion of space that is truly yours with what you enjoy. Hibernate once that door is closed and locked for the day...
Tonight, we watched "The Constant Gardener".....very depressing film, great love story. Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Weisz made a believable and charming couple-
their love story set smack in the middle of the corruption of huge international drug companies using Africans as guinea pigs in their testing programs, while turning a blind eye to the many deaths that would skew the results. Very sad, very stark film, but oh lordie.......I can think of nothing as clear and pure as Ralph Fiennes' eyes.....
I've never seen a camera shot did not love the etheral quality of those amazing peepers. I watch them completely mesmerized. If Fiennes were a snake, and I some little desert critter- I'd surely be dead. Would not be able to escape their intensity and eerie inner light-source. Truly astonishing.
November 18, 2008~ 5:30pm
Consider this an early Thanksgiving gift from my house to yours.....
Do you like old pictures? How would you feel about a CORNUCOPIA of luscious, vintage photos taken by the best and the brightest photographers....well, here they are, via Google to you, by way of LIFE MAGAZINE.
Click on that 30's picture taken of a 'poor shack and two little brothers', and enter the past by way of Kodak-- watch it decade by decade. What a terrific site! I get lost in there. Hope you do too. My world seems to undergo a kind of "degaussing"- recentering and refocusing when I look through the lens of the long road we've been on--- meandering- deploying, exploding, dancing-- right up till now. We all need roots and an album to page through. This one's ours- all of ours. Enjoy your journey.
November 21, 2008~ 9:30am
I took a day off here, and was just perusing newspapers and sipping coffee, when a story hit me in the gut -- Fred the Parrot, so downcast nine months after his owner's death, he did nothing but sit on his perch and bob his head; he plucked all the feathers from around his neck and became disconsolate. Here's Fred's story. Click the picture.
We often mourn our pets, but oh, sometimes it's even worse.....our pets mourn us. Whatever will they do then, for care, for companionship? It's a sad world even when we can talk to one another, but what happens when there are no words to frame the hurt? Poor creatures everywhere who undergo this sort of cleaving from the life they knew...
I hope the anti-depressant helps the woebegone African Grey. We seldom think about how deeply run the ties between humans and the animals we care for, but they're there alright-- and when they're severed for the animal - without any way of explanation - how awful for the dears. Be well, Fred. Be well, buddy.
(Return To Weekly Archives)
...
. or pay a visit to my Audio site to hear things
I've written- 
Some are just 'jotters', thoughts as they fly- going
nowhere but where they are. If you stop and read a few~ or post a
few~ thanks for
the perusal. Last of all, if you've a hankering for rants and raging,
try making a stop at my other blog- 
