Blue Heart

What an interesting set of reactions to my Poetry Monday post.

Several years ago I was bridesmaid to a close friend. I was the one who stayed with her her last night as a free woman. The morning of the ceremony the two other maids came and did an impromptu practice of their readings. Meanwhile the photographers were also present being artistic. So anyway the maid of honour had just been given her reading and started reciting it and I nearly leapt across the room when I recognized it.

"Is that the Song of Solomon?! What part are you reading?" ( I can be such a drama queen at times ;)

I have always loved the Song of Solomon. It is the first part of any bible I look for. Not all include it. It is a bit risque for literalists but amazingly allegorical for those willing to see the symbolism. The Song itself is actually a dialog between a bridegroom and his bride with a chorus, similar to older Greek plays.

I suppose I had heard the story of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba (Ethiopia) before discovering the Song of Songs, but I believe I would have found it lovely anyway. It is so image filled in a dreamlike way. Dreamlike in the way that dreams can repeat a certain set of objects without becoming monotonous by simply placing the same image in various perspectives and settings.

And it is sensorial: all that myrrh, frankincense and nard.

I think it a fitting end to Poetry Monday's month of love, both spiritual and other :)***CV

Solomon

Fourth Poem

I sleep but my heart is awake.

I hear my Beloved knocking.

"Open to me, my sister, my love,

my dove, my perfect one,

for my head is covered with dew,

my locks with the drops of night."

-" I have taken off my tunic,

am I to put it on again?

I have washed my feet,

am I to dirty them again?"

My Beloved thrust his hand

through the hole in the door;

I trembled to the core of my being.

Then I rose

to open to my Beloved,

myrrh ran off my hands,

pure myrrh off my fingers,

on to the handle of the bolt.

Song of Songs

***CV

Eternal Feedback

Hello New Zealand, Hello Italy and welcome India !

So yes I did finish my Knitlympics project at about 1:45 this morning. I then wove in the ends on the bus whilst delivering nests to the new finches.

Yes that's right we had a finch incident the day after President's weekend. *sigh* On the Monday before, as I was walking to get a very late lunch, about 4:30, there were flakes swirling from the sky. Not many mind you but in downtown Portland it was a snow flurry. Apparently one of the windows in the cottage opened and there was a dramatic decrease in temperature such that...well there was another service.

I never realized how use to birds in the enviroment I was. But the days after their loss were the saddest I have experienced. So we had a group meeting on Thursday in which all the community respected each others opinions - pro or con - and really made an effort to hear each other. It was amazing. We discussed the contributing factors to the birds passing: the draft and temperature drop, insufficient food was proposed; and how we could work to make these factors unlikely to reoccur.

So I made an executive decision to get more finches - little suspecting how soon they would manifest. I was planning on a week or so to prepare the environment and community, but no, the next morning - of course the same morning that SCA renactors came to visit - Surprise!

Can I get an OY VEY?!

They are so sweet though.

All weekend I kept thinking: the room is too cold, what if there are bird bodies on Monday, they don't have a nest, ahh did I leave the heat on, what if it goes off???? Thankfully I had three very chirpy prescences when I brought in the nests this afternoon.

Oh did I mention the grand escape one made during the inital transfer from one cage to another as the SCA'ers were holding forth? The posse to catch the escapee that then formed with the giant fish - not finch - net?

Oh Mr. Dalai Lama I'm ready for my meditation cell now. please?

So yeah in the afternoon while the combatants were trying on armor and boffing each other I stayed in and turned a heel with my sock knitter and at the same time started casting on and swatching with three beginners.

If you would like proof of Aiblinn's completion:

cascade 220 2 and 3/4 skeins
11 and 1/2 repeats before bind off

You'll have to contact the owner of Knit Purl 'cause I do not have a digital camera but she and seven witnesses saw my completed - with ends woven in thank you - project. I even modelled it. Oh and I also won one of the prizes they were giving :) Can you guess? can you guess?

Blue Moon sock yarn I chose colorway Prickly pear :) I got so involved that I missed Paheli :( I hope to catch it when it comes to the regular theaters. I heard it is really fun.

So I visited the music store instead and now have a Peter Murphy that plays! yes! Should the World Fail to Fall Apart. I also picked up two Massive Attacks: Massive attack vs the Mad Professor (1994) and 100th Window (2003) I already have Mezzanine; and a Bill Laswell, Lost the Translation.


Meanwhile Blogger is irritating me immensely with it's refusal to move faster than a thought across a (insert your own comparison)'s brain .*****CV

Goo

Moldova popped in for a visit today: Hi! (that would be the "Republic of" for those wondering)

So I finally special ordered Hikaru no Go. vol. 6. Even the book clerk seemed puzzled at how somethng could be listed as "In Stock in February" and not be in stock in February*sigh*; I also picked up a copy of Patterns for Guernseys, Jerseys, and Arans by Gladys Thompson as well as a TS Elliot collection, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats.

12 more rounds + a bobble round + a bind off

UPDATE: Charles deLint has revamped his site!!! Ummm just in case you wanted to know......

***CV

Say say say

My Writhe and Shine T came today :)

I now own a collection of Borges poetry (and it ain't victor) ; )

There is a song refraining in my head:

"....66 round and rounds to go,

66 round and round.

slip one round pass it along

65 round and rounds to go...."

***CV

the Serpents Egg

Favela Rising a film in which we meet a recovered Quadraplegic who is the lead singer of Afro Reggae, encourages Capoeira, education, getting a job other than drug soldier, and is a believer in Shiva: what is not to like? Go see it if it comes near you ;)

caveat: favelas are the areas outside of Rio de Janero. They are where the drug lords and the police frequently battle it out. They are home to the poorest of the poor. The film is not pretty: it's real in many aspects.

I have seen another film about a Brazillian woman who is married to a successful hotelier and yet spends much of her time working in the favela communities providing medical services, education programs, you name it. And she is actully there working, not simply facilitating, but working.

Several years ago I read a semi autobiography of yet another Brazillian woman who grew up in a favela - words fail at adequate expression of what human beings are capable of doing and surviving.

So Sunday is the Indian ghost story Paheli- no more documentaries scheduled.

***

Before speaking ask yourself: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it helpful? -anon.

I like that person anon. :)****CV

vine vide

tidbits from today:

*telling someone their lunch stinks is not Okay

*turquoise converse are REALLY bright

*renacting environmental impact can be fun (especially if it involves sand and blue dyed water)

*when you get to the point of row countdown (72 , 70, 68.....) the tinking begins

*saudi arabia and australia visited on the same day - so....have you two met?

* a coconut time line can be fun

* timezone maps can be fun

*skeining is a work in progress, but two determined 6 year olds can perform miracles

***CV

ego tu nos tus

Pleasures of the Salton Sea. Wow. And I thought Mono lake had a situation. Salvation Mountain and sterile Tilapia and the last of the SoCal wetlands: Who'd a thought?

***

4 more rounds and I am half way done = 2 repeats a day = only bobble bind off on Saturday (oh now that sounds a little risque ;)

***

Great Stories Night on Wednesday (mad knitting before hand of course)
Favela Rising on Thursday ( a film about the favelas of Brazil)
Paheli on Sunday ( an Indian ghost story)

Leaving two solid days for mad knitting in between (I think I can I think I can....)

***CV

amo amas amat

Aside from some serious blocking and weaving in of tail ends le coif is done. I will save all swatches, including miters, until after skeining the yarn on the niddy noddy - that should be fun :) The niddy noddy in question is about 16 inches long.

Completed one round of Aibhlinn = 4 rounds or 1/3 done.

***

Last night it rained peppermint tea in my house - fortunately Sunshine survived.

***

Poetry Monday is love/affection. Since love was not strictly defined as romantic I submit the following two:

Listen dear girl: Does my Beloved live in my Self,

or does my Self live in my Beloved?

I don't know: What's my Self, what's my Beloved?

What's inside my body? My Beloved or my Self?

sunu sakhi pia mahi jiu basai; shalok 236

kabhir

Whoever knew

that It is body of body,

breath of breath

and feeling of feeling?

Thinking that it's far,

it's near

it's out here,

and in there,

they tire themselves out.

allama prabhu

***CV

Silent Hedges

3 completed rounds - yes! 'Course then I measured and 3 = 6" which means I need to do 12 not 10 rounds *sigh*

***

Hikaru no Go is still no go. What is up with this shop?

Lest you think I returned empty handed (from a bookstore? I don't think so) I did bring home Redwall by Brian Jaques, and Mistress Marsham's Repose by T.H. White.

Finished Writhe and Shine this afternoon. So much fun. I kept laughing aloud not only at the panels but the artist's comments regarding said panels. And as to the T from New Orleans: that is simply a Writhe and Shine shirt that I ordered along with the books.

Speaking of New Orleans, how incredible is it that Mardi Gras is going to happen? In W&S the lead character (Writhe) continually comments how much he hates Mardis Gras - and with good reason when you look at it from his perspective. Apparently there is no hesitaion among visitors to create their own facilities as needed - as recounted by Writhe's friends the police are rather creative in dealing with such offenders.

Complete nonsegue: there is a hilarious three strip series about persistant wrong number calls. Y'know the ones, where you have clearly stated that Monty Hall does not live here and yet the person insists on calling back every 5 minutes just in case Monty has moved in in that time. The response is blue so - like - I won't share here ;)

So I need to make a coif, a mitered square and a swatch or two or three by Monday evening; find pictures of various Medieval architectures (oh yes why I do teach little children how to speak good english - subjunctively speaking that is); and find my copy of WOTEOT.

Hi ho hi ho it's off..... I go :) ***CV

I'm a Lighthouse

Well, I do not think it is me. I have restarted Aibhlinn and spent most of the afternoon trying to modify my results enough to match the pattern's instructions. I ended up frogging both efforts. Third time in and I have modified the pattern to suit itself.

Bobble: make 5 in 1 stitch, turn; k5, turn; p6, turn; k6, slip 2nd-6th st off 1st, turn;k1

This left me with fewer rather than more stitches which was easily rectified by making 3 additional ones. Huzzah! I now have 144 in the places that the pattern dictates they should be. How many days left?.....uh, scratch that. I really don't want to know.

***

In other news I finished The Bridges of Madison County last night. If it hadn't been for the Jazz musician I would have been so depressed. A very good read :)

I want to stop by Powell's tomorrow and see if they have finally put the latest Hikaru no Go in stock. It has been in the warehouse for ages!

Oh and I received my compilation of Writhe and Shine in the mail today! Squeeee!! On the outside of the wrapper was a note that I would be receiving the T from New Orleans - double squeee!

Beautiful - and so's your face,

you're a revelation

you're a revelation

Wake up - Penelope dream girl

to days of wonder

to days of wonder

wild swans, magic hotel

***CV

Only a lad...

Oh my! I have just received my first *non creative use of explicative* commentary. I tried to backtrack and also encountered a warning page - about entering that particular site, placed by Blogger.

Golly!

To be fair I have been insulted far more creatively by eight year olds who possessed a greater facility in their use of vocabulary and did not rely upon olde english euphemisms to carry the message. Nor did they have difficulty in using pronouns properly.

*tsk* beauty school drop out.......

****

I have almost finished reading The Bridges of Madison County. Thank you Amanda for giving this to me. You were absolutely correct about the imagery. I finished Beast a few nights ago and while I enjoyed the premise and much of the carry through the ending felt a little flat to me.

There is a film festival going on right now so I may go to one or two of the films this weekend.

****

When Aunty Flo became a crow

She had her bed put in a tree.

And there she sat, and read all day

- of ornithology

mervyn peake

****CV

Aniseed Twist

for TS elliot

Obscurity, Obscurity, there's nothing like Obscurity
To obfuscate and baffle
the mild and the ....raffled? waffled? falafeled?

for E. Ionesco

Oh look! I am a neologist. I turned a noun into a verb: and a rather weird verb at that :) I am feeling rather tense, let us conjugate:

present Indicative
sing. I falafel; you falafel; he/she/it falafels
pl. we falafel; y'all falafel; they falafel

past Indicative
sing. I falafeled; you falafeled; he/she/it falafeled
pl. we falafeled; y'all falafeled; they falafeled

future Indicative
sing. I will falafel; you will falafel; he/ she/ it will falafel
pl. we will falafel; y'all will falafel; they will falafel

****

A play worth reading: Aria da Capo, Edna St. Vincent Millay

***

Is it the weekend yet? ***CV

Fun time

In the night there is a rustle, a skittering of taps that freeze into stillness when Someone rolls over and sighs back to sleep.

tap tap cliclicliclic.... *freeze* clicliclicliclic.....and then

Soft voices begin to whisper:

"144 is expected to begin..."

but....

"I see. However, 168 came instead."

but.....

"Do not concern yourself. Multiple 5 simply meant that the next one would be..... "

but.....

"Of course! It would be 6."

... no wait if I....

"Only if we make 1 first. That would of neccessity require us to eliminate the other....."

Someone sits up suddenly and shouts:

Ahblinn get out of my head!! I am a person not a pattern!

****CV

shallow then halo

St Valentine: Pope or martyr? Priest who married young men to their loves when the emperor wanted them to serve in his army or myth?

There are still calendars which list today as Saint Valentine's Day, it being a feast day until 1969.
I digress. Chris asked about the origami, shrinky dinks and glitter. When I worked with small children I had the rare priviledge of experiencing the chaos, emotional turbulence and stress that is present when children must give everyone a treat regardless of how one truly feels towards them.

No fuss no muss. We made one valentine card each, with or sans glitter; we used one shrinky dink sheet each, to make a gift of one's own design; we made one origami heart each. It was the most peaceful valentines day I have experienced with 18 children, ever.

Currently reading Beast by Donna Napoli. Abhlinn and I are still contemplating one another so I have returned to the Krsna sox --which is a relief to my wrists.

***

We were very tired, we were very merry -

We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;

And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,

From a dozen of each we had bought some where;

And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold,

And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.

recuerdo, v.2, ESVM

***CV

Peppermint Pig

Origami, glitter and shrinky dinks: tomorrow should be fun :)

I have added volumes of poetry, one by Edna St. Vincent Millay and one by WB Yeats, to my collection. I also picked up another Decemberists, Picaresque, and Sigur Ros' Taak tonight.

***

Contemplating my Abhlinn I may unravel it all and start again: curse you bobbles you tempt me not to; but fie! I may do so anyway!

And to you I say:

And if I loved you Wednesday,

Well what is that to you?

I do not love you Thursday -

So much is true.

And why you come complaining

Is more than I can see.

I loved you Wednesday, - yes- , but what

Is that to me?

Thursday, Edna St, Vincent Millay

***CV

Bitter Almond

Ever have one of those periods of time where everything that says up is down, identifies itself as left but is right and then all directions become a vertiginous ride on the Teacups?

That's how my weekend started - with a meeting arranged to discuss a specific set of issues and then those issues ignored for something pulled out of a hat -and I don't know how I feel about going in to next week. However, I did have an interesting conversation with a friend last night. She told me how she used to quit her job every June, go off for the summer to Europe or wherever, then return to a new job in September.

I am seriously considering doing something similar. That is, doing what I want - though it involves a risk, in order to persue that which I seek.

***

One pattern repeat completed equaling 2.5 inches. This means I need @ ten repeats for the entire 24 inches Aibhlinn specifies.

***

Fire can burn

but cannot move.

Wind can move

but cannot burn.

'Til fire joins wind

it cannot take a step.

Do men know

it's like that

with knowing and doing?

devara daismayya

****CV

Spectral Blue

Having completed three rounds of Abhlinn and been auctioned off I shall call it a day.

Sleep, great goddess sleep,

heroine of three worlds,

spins and sucks up

all, draws breath

and throws them down

sapless.

I know of no hero

who can stand before her.

Struck by her arrows,

people rise and fall.

allama prabhu

***CV

Immaculate

Amber is a jewel, a resin, a colour. It is something I have admired ever since all I knew was its name. Words have a power for me in that way. The sounds of letters in combination possess an enchantment.

Amber in colour ranges from lemon yellow to orange to deep rust red as well as green

Amber as resin is the incense for Hanuman.

Amber the jewel is considered a protection from the evil eye.

Yesterday, when I went looking for the final piece of my exchange gift, I found some amber blue moon - how could I resist?

Then I remembered this poem composed by a bhakti over a thousand years ago:

Every tree

in the forest was the All-Giving Tree,

every bush

the life-reviving herb,

every stone the Philosopher's Stone,

all the land a pilgrim's holy place,

all the water nectar against age,

every beast the golden deer,

every pebble I stumble on

the Wishing Crystal:

walking round

the Jamine Lord's favorite hill,

I happened

on the Plantain Grove.

Mahadeviyakka

***CV

A day for you

So next Tuesday is special for many, many reasons. Not least of which.....

*All dressed up with no where to go.
Walking with a dead man over my shoulder.

It's Mr. Benny's B-day!

Don't run away its only me.
Don't be afraid of what you can't see.

Yes. Jack will be celebrating his 74th 39th birthday.

Waiting for an invitation to arrive.
Going to a party where no one's still alive.

So the question is, Mary: what to get him? The man who has everything?

I was struck by lightning walking down the street;
I was hit by something last night in my sleep.

I am not sure that this http://www.chocolateskulls.com-would be appropriate. But it would be original, no? ;)

It's a dead mans party. Who could ask for more?
Everybody leave your body at the door -
Leave your body and soul at the door.
* all lyrics: Dead Man's Party, Oingo Boingo

***CV

Melting Blue Delicious

A strange kind of love

A strange kind of feeling

Swims through your eyes

And like the doors

To a wide vast dominion

They open to your prize....

P. Murphy, A Strange Kind of Love

Have you ever read a book where you are actually there? Not imagining what it must be like but actually seeing it and being there?

I have done that with two books: Vikram Seth's Golden Gate and Blood Sucking Fiends, also a small part of Shopgirl. Perhaps, though, this happens to anyone who reads a book set in the place they have grown up. Or not.

I have walked all over SF: during the night and during the day. If I closed my eyes now I could place myself on Fillmore street looking over the marina watching the moon rise and seeing the fog fenced off by the GG Bridge, or, I can see myself walking through Chintown on a hot Saturday afternoon, through GG Park in the rain, down Mission New Year's Eve, in the Castro on Halloween Night, or China Basin at dawn.

I wonder if the same would be true if I read Amisted Maupin's series?

***

I cannot wait (tho'wait I must) for the SoM concert next month. I love going to concerts: the people watching, the dancing, the posing, the I am so much gother, rocker, cooler, laid backer,then thou attitude; so much fun!

*sigh*

*tap* *tap* *tap*.....

The tiger is resting before being gussetted and I am working on a pair of Krsna colored sox til then.

Oh, and I joined the olympics. :) **CV

Stay

Let's have a party

There's a full moon in the sky

It's the hour of the wolf

And I don't want to die

No one lives forever, Oingo Boingo

Oh that Danny Elfman. Such an evil little Cherub.

I indulged and visited the boutique de musique and picked up, Oingo Boingo Farewell, as well as an English Beat, What is..., and another Decemberists, Castaways and Cutouts.

I just remembered: I actually saw this Boingo tour in SF at the Warfield! It was on a Sunday Night--what a terrible time to schedule a concert. But it was Boingo. So that 's all right then.

I was on my way back from Powell's where I found a Christopher Moore book Bloodsucking Fiends. He also wrote Coyote Blue: which is a hilarious take on Coyote trying to help a salesman lighten up and on the way to Vegas - to rescue the salesman's true love from her bad motorcycle boyfriend -they discover the only buddhist garage mechanic I have ever heard of. And, why yes, he does do repairs via the Way.

So yeah. Can't you tell? Bloodsucking Fiends is a vampire story. But much takes place in an SF Safeway--which as I remember from le era disco was a prime meet and date place. I wouldn't know. I was like 9 at the time.

The tiger is growing heels. Did I mention that besides twisted I also knit inside out? The shop assistant found it a trace confusing.

This morning I was returning all of Leonardi's accessories back to her tank - we had left them around the place she disappeared in a vain hope she might come back; so apparently she decided to. Leonardi has risen *whew*

We close our eyes

and the world has turned around again....

stay, oingo boingo

***CV

edited this am because Love in Vein is a Poppy Brite anthology not Christopher Moore.

Adoration

In the KTC forum Stephanie sugested making a list of books we considered classics through our life time so far. That doing so might give insight into ourselves at ceratin points of our life. I think I am more likely to remember authors than particular books. If I enjoy a story I will then look for other works by that author more often than looking for other similarly themed books.

So authors who I recall persuing, pretty much in order from age 6 'til now:
George MacDonald, Andrew Lang, Zilpha Keatly Snyder, Carolyn Keene, Barbara Cartland, Trixie Belden (series), Andre Norton, Anne McCafferey, Ray Bradbury, Michael Moorcock, Chansoms de Geste*, Charles DeLint, Mervyn Peake, Chiam Potok, Sir Walter Scott, Angela Carter, Collette, JK Huysmans, Francis Yates, Maria Montessori, Ann Radcliffe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Tim Severin, Edna St. Vincent Millay, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ayn Rand, Herman Hesse, MFK Fisher, Naghib Mafhouz, Neil Gaiman, Tove Jansson, Phillip Pullman, Haruki Murakami, Robin McKinley, LA Meyer.....

This of course does not include individual stories such as:
The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Johnny Tremain, Johnny Got His Gun, Clockwork Orange, Brave New World, or any other subject vein I may have explored over a period of time such as western mysticism, eastern philosophy, occult, education history, Erte, 1920's, anatomy, etc.

Graphic novels such as:
Matt Wagner's Grendel; Frank Miller's Dark Knight; David Mack's Kabuki; Neil Gaiman's Sandman; Alan Moore's From Hell; Alan Martin and Jamie Hewlett's Tank Girl; Johnnen Vasquez' Johnny the Homicidal Maniac; Grant Morrison's the Invisibles; The Maxx; Donna Barr's the Desert Peach; all I have kept because I can reread and enjoy them today as much as then.

*chansoms for me include anything from Nieblinglied to Beowulf to le Morte De Arthur

***CV

Chocolate Bubblegum

sshhhh! be very very quiet.

testing, testing. 1 2 3 .... can you read me?

Aaaahhhh! runs in circles screaming and pulling at hair.

Deep breath. Thank you o blogspot gods for granting access. But really, give a girl some warning, Okay?

Yesterday I posted the Fall of Raven: twice. Some of you read it before it got swallowed by...I dunno...a giant webcat??

I will try and post it again because it is just too funny not to. Also I mentioned that another of our menagerie has been lost. I am really hoping that this is the last of the bad things to happen to us this year.

I did not create this work. I found it through wikipedia.

The Fall of Raven

Poe's Cat

On a night, quite unenchanting, when the rain fell downward slanting,

I awakened to the ranting of the man I catch mice for.

Tipsy and a bit unshaven, in a tone I found quite craven,

Poe was talking to a Raven perched above the chamber door.

"Raven's very tasty," thought I, as I tiptoed o'er the floor,

"There is nothing I like more."

Soft upon the rug I treaded, calm and careful as I headed

Towards his roost atop that dreaded bust of Pallas I deplore.

While the bard and birdie chattered, I made sure that nothing clattered,

Creaked, or snapped, or fell, or shattered, as I crossed the corridor;

For his house is crammed with trinkets, curios and weird decor -

Bric - abrac and junk galore.

Still the Raven never fluttered, standing stockstill as he uttered,

In a voice that shrieked and sputtered, his two cents worth -

"Nevermore."

While this dirge the birdbrain kept up, oh so silently I crept up,

Then I crouched and quickly leapt up, pouncing on the feather bore.

Soon he was a heap of plumage, and a little blood and gore -

Only this and not much more.

Then my pickled poet cried out, "Pussycat it's time I dried out!"

Never sat I in my hideout talking to a bird before;

How I've wallowed in self-pity, while my gallant, valiant kitty,

Put an end to that damn dity - then I heard him start to snore.

Back atop the door I clambered, eyed that statue I abhor,

Jumped - and smashed it on the floor.

Posts missing in action: Space Flower; Lost Space Flower; Tomorrows tears

May you rest in peace for we hardly knew you ****CV

SOS

I do not understand what is happening. I am losing posts and I cannot enter or view any of the blogspot sites. If this posts (gad I feel like I'm sending out a message in a bottle) I may not see it. Could someone email me a message: I apparently can get my comments still.

Send help. Lost on blogspot island.***CV

Crystal vein

Silent Poem for Brigid:

The Trouble With Geraniums

mervyn peake

The trouble with geraniums

is that they’re much too red!

The trouble with my toast

is that it’s far too full of bread.

The trouble with a diamond

is that it’s much too bright.

The same applies to fish and stars

and the electric light.

The troubles with the stars I see

lies in the way they fly.

The trouble with myself is all

self-centred in the eye.

The trouble with my looking-glass

is that it shows me, me;

there’s trouble in all sorts of things

where it should never be.

If you haven't sampled any of the Gormenghast series...well why not? It is full of wonderful descriptions from crumbling castles to amazing sculptures the peasantry create all year round for the annual judging; only to smash to pieces all but the one winning work. From vicious, scheming, manipulative Steerpike to wild untameable Fushia and the Lady of the castle who lives in a room covered in a quilt of living cats.

Curliqued in sunlight

Puddle of moon and shade

- Purrs

cv

The tiger is growing and I have commenced its body. Because I knit "twisted" all dpn work results in a spiral illusion. I may end up with a pair of coiled tigers ***CV

mao

Such a strange week so far. The wind whistling widdershins all Sunday night and early Monday morning. No one able to settle themselves the past two days.

We buried Jack this morning. Everyone attended and when given the choice of a silent farewell or viewing Jack before we placed him in the earth: they all chose to view. The cliche of looking asleep is not cliche here. I think we all expected him to sit up at any moment.

Such mixtures of feelings. One person said how she kept feeling like laughing though she was terribly sad. Others didn't appear to know what to do: shall I hug my friend, sit quietly, run around the room? Much discussion of death and god or not god or maybe something else or maybe nothing.

We all helped in the ceremony by throwing in a bit of dirt and then the oldest took shovels and filled it in. 2 days to dig and ten minutes to fill. One being constructed a marker and another brought flowers: orange and yellow geber daisies.

***CV