I'll not love again

[Casey Butler]

I didn't say I didn't like the poem. It was just not very understandable to my mind and written so long ago (1000 years at least, it seems).

Shortly after I left that last message we went to the store and as we were driving back I spotted a bunch of Turkey Vultures circling over town. They were all landing and taking off from this live pecan tree in somebody's yard.



It was exciting... I took several videos and put them together with "Movie Maker". Pretty primitive but fun. If only I could pirate a Sissel soundtrack for it. Perhaps we can find out something about the house where the pecan tree was tomorrow.

I've been working all evening on this video, so it's a must watch. A little long, maybe... I'll try to be shorter if there are future ones.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sav7OTTIV98

A fellow rode up on his bike after they flew down the street and said, "How'd you do it?", I said "What?", and he said "How did you get them to fly in circles above you?" He was being facetious, of course, but we had an interesting conversation. He said he also saw the "I AM" clouds we saw. E told him about Lee Angel. He talked very metaphorically. For example, to stay looking young don't eat anything the FDA approves of, nothing with preservatives... I had inadvertantly left the camera on record so it recorded the whole thing while making a movie of the street and his bicycle tire.

I'm all for letting the dust settle, I'm not trying to raise it again. But I don't UNDERSTAND hardly anything you people write, CS thread included. It isn't fair. How did you patronize me? What does patronizing have to do with the message you left?

And wouldn't a woman patronizing really be matronizing?

Casey

[Violet]

Please forgive me this, Casey.. I don't think it will clarify anything*, but I feel so deeply sad sometimes..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsWi5nOHKLo
FULL SCREEN...


*.. oh.. except to say.. Hamlet is the sun.. Ophelia, the moon.. Hamlet, the golden eagle.. Ophelia, the hare..
p.s. I enjoyed your video very much... and shall return to that..

[Casey Butler]

If you are sad, Violet, I hope it's not something I've done to offend you - or something you've misheard (I know you're rushed with an ever growing schedule to keep, and you don't have time to really care, and you never ask what we mean but think rather omnipotently).

As for Hamlet, I'm afraid without dialog that clip is not very meaningful to me - other than the fact Ophelia looks like she's dead. Shakespeare's plays have not been part of my preparation. You left them out.

I have read Shakespeare's Sonnets, however.

Tonight's sunset over Hurricane, for your morning color:



I'm busy transcribing the conversation I had with that fellow yesterday, though it turns out the last part was lost when I saw that the camera was on and turned it off. I'll post it in a bit even though it's incomplete.

Casey

[Cate]

Matronizing - omg - is that a thing, I think I do that. Not that long I told someone 21 years my senior to cover his head if it rained and if he didn't want to do that to at least dry himself off well afterwards.

Feminine Sublime


The awareness broke in sounds
that seemed to rise up all around her;
sounds distilled in exultations of
human consciousness: teaming, like
the furious ascent of birds…

.. then the sounds were quieted,
running gently but alive, like
trickling waters off of mountains,
eagerly spilling their myriad
giddy losses
to larger throws of brooks
and streams…


… all was silent then… the heavens now
descending… her white breasts afloat like
water lilies… her subtle womb… dispersed like
stars…


ii.

When continents perilously shift,
their once imperceptible weight
is suddenly fathomed: annihilation
is the fear in our awakening; and
shame the site of splendor lost
under Reason’s bloody cloak.

dare to let its heavy folds
fall from Eden’s precious body;
strive to keep her naked, free
from the devouring by the
mind’s causative, treacherous
contempt. for this world’s subtle
body is luminous --

2000

Violet this is lovely - I like how in the first part, for me, it seemed to be a woman melding with the Earth - softly sensual and then part 2 seems to be the Earth herself so that when I re-read part one - and yes I know I'm stretching here (but I like the thought) that the earth and the woman have become lovers. I'm going to come back later to re-read the second part which has an edge to it.

Ophelia of course is so tragically romantic.

[Casey Butler]

On second thought I think that conversation is likely irrelevant to the thread here. Dust is settling, I shouldn't disturb it further. :-)

Sorry you're sad, Violet.

Casey

[Violet]

.. thank you, Casey, for this.. it's just stunning.. and thank you for caring that I've been sad.. it really touches me that you do..

I just had a dream this morning.. I was in a bedroom.. and this child had to be hidden there.. I don't know if it was a boy or a girl, but the child was hidden in the bedding at the bottom of the bed.. the child was nearly falling to the floor.. A woman was visiting, and I was showing her all the lovely.. needle work, perhaps, that I was doing.. I was to make her something similar.. there were the colors gold and violet involved.. And then this woman did the official search for the child, and thankfully didn't find anything.. It was something like Nazi Germany, only I'm not Jewish, and it wasn't explicit in the dream as to why I needed to hide this child.. or even how I was connected to this child.. [later note.. I would add here, that the child, I suggest, represents an aspect or aspects of myself, which I felt needed hiding.. perhaps something related to my "child self"..]..

.. Hi I.F.. I guess I started one of those dream journals, like the one you used to keep..

... but gold and violet.. the golden eagle.. and the hare (associated with that dark and velvety unconscious).. (I just thought of a book called The Velveteen Rabbit, which I've always meant to read)..

Okay.. moving on.. [later note.. oh, I would add, that I believe this post is mean to be PART III (of what I had been thinking about before)..]...

I'm glad you're clear on the Abyss, the Void, the Hero Cycle, and New Good Things. I'm a little sorry you see me as so ignorant of them.

Casey

By way of explaining things more, Casey.. in your saying the above, it’s similar to saying I was being patronizing.. that’s what I.F. and I were referring to..To my mind, at least, I wasn't telling you these things with a sense of superiority about things, as if you were the poor unenlightened one, in need of my greater understanding.. I was just exploring ideas with you.. and not with any particular thought as to how exactly these things would be received.. I assumed you'd be interested, even if you don't always understand where I'm coming from.. Anyway, Casey, you can always ask a question.. and I can try to clarify..

As to my feeling hurt by you, perhaps you would consider tempering your writing style, as quite often I feel I’m being “accused” somehow.. Perhaps you can find a way to say the same things without having me feell as if I'm being bulldozed, as I’m fairly certain that’s not what you intend for me to feel.. For example, you might say you wish I wrote a bit more sometimes.. as opposed to saying that I don't have the time to really care.. I’m hardly the person not to care, and it makes me wonder what you see in me at all that you should say that..

Oh, and I hardly feel omnipotent.. confused by your posts at times (just as you, apparently, are confused by mine), but not omnipotent.. Poems, however, can sometimes feel to be omnipotnent.. and even just plain writing, maybe, if I’m allowing for a broader poetic feel to something.. None of this is directed “at” you, however, it’s just a way of expressing these ideas..


.. oh and, hi Cate.. thanks so much for the poem appreciation.. maybe some of the following will add to these ideas.. but I feel, especially with the first part of what you said, that you're on track with what I too was thinking about as I wrote it..


Okay, Casey.. here's some Shakespeare material..

On the play Hamlet, Harold Bloom, who I feel to be just a wonderful literary critic (and probably the best read man on the planet when it comes to literature, or at least the Western Canon).. anyway, he referred to the genius-Prince Hamlet’s death as an apotheosis of mind [later note.. this might be my phrasing, actually.. not sure].. In other words, his death seemed to Bloom (every time he watched the play) a deification of sorts.. One never left the theater feeling sad, exactly.. but instead as if Hamlet had imparted something to us all.. (this according to Bloom).. Indeed, Bloom always found himself leaving the theater feeling somehow edified by Hamlet's end.. as the fair prince is carried off the stage.. to the sound of solemn drum beats..

.. Oh, and sun wise, Hamlet says in one of his earliest lines in this gargantuan play, “I’m too much in the sun”.. Shakespeare intending it to be a pun on “son”.. Hamlet was the grieving son of the king who had just died.. Hamlet will soon learn (from his father's ghost, in fact) that it was Hamlet's uncle Claudius who did the evil deed, killing his brother the king, then hastily marrying Queen Gertrude, the king's wife and Hamlet's (rather lusty) mother..

In terms of my mentioning again the golden eagle and the hare in relation to Hamlet and Ophelia.. all I’m speaking of really are aspects of being, such as the conscious mind.. (i.e., the sun).. and the unconscious (i.e., the moon)..

And so.. as opposed Hamlet and the sun.. Ophelia is aligned with nature, and the moon (its connection to water).. given that the following is her (most beautiful) death poem.. spoken by Queen Gertrude..

GERTRUDE:  There is a willow grows askant the brook,  
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream. 
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make 
Of crow­flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples 
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, 
But our cold maids do deadmen’s fingers call them. 
There on the pendant boughs her crownet weeds 
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke, 
When down her weedy trophies and herself 
Fell in the weeping brook.  Her clothes spread wide, 
And mermaid­like awhile they bore her up, 
Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds, 
As one incapable of her own distress, 
Or like a creature native and indued 
Unto that element.  But long it could not be 
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, 
pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay 
to muddy death. 
 
LAERTES (Ophelia's brother): Alas, then, she is drowned? 
 
GERTRUDE: Drowned, drowned. 

And so Ophelia (and these are ideas I've had on this subject) is aligned with the moon, given her watery end.. Hamlet’s mind, though unparalleled, perhaps, in the history of Western thought, nevertheless lacked something when it came to Ophelia.. Bloom suggests that contemporary audiences love Hamlet since Hamlet himself doesn’t need love.. (with the possible exception of his love for his dear friend, Horatio).. And yet, what do we make of Hamlet’s supposed great love, Ophelia?.. why is she there at all, in such close proximity to him, if indeed he loses interest in her?.. and what do we make of her love for the genius prince?.. Indeed, hers is a generous and high minded love, for even after being torn to shreds by the prince’s stabbing tongue (after their brief period of impassioned romance), she has this to say of her beloved Hamlet..

O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye -- tongue -- sword,
Th 'expectancy and rose of the fair state,
The glass of fashion and the mold of form,
Th' observed of all observers, quite quite down!
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That sucked the honey of his musicked vows,
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
Like sweet bells jangled out of tune and harsh,
That unmatched form and feature of blown youth,*
Blasted with ecstasy. O, woe is me,
T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

[*this would mean "full blown" youth, at the height of
youth's attributes.. and "blasted with ecstasy" has to do
with what she perceives as Hamlet's madness]..

.. and so she mourns the seeming passing of so great a mind (as it appears to her, and to many, in fact, that Hamlet is mad).. and never does she condemn him for his own condemnation of her, as portrayed in the famous "Get thee to a nunnery" scene, to which the above is her response.. It is an incomprehensible cruelty on Hamlet's part -- his ill treatment of Ophelia throughout the play.. which eventually leads to her madness.. and watery end..

.. why does Hamlet "kill off" such perfect beauty?.. true and sound?

.. and what of that dark and watery unconscious (that we all fear) constitutes Ophelia's madness?..

Your vultures, Casey, even though they may symbolize transformation in a sense (as I posted before).. seem an ominous sign to me.. they await death, no?.. (.. that's how they seem to me -- ominous and foreboding -- as they await death on those highest branches of the pecan tree.. Although in flight.. there is something masterful.. and wondrous about them.. which I'll get to in another post)..

And speaking of awaiting death.. or more philosophically speaking, contemplating being vs. non being.. Hamlet, the genius prince, speaks of conscioiusness.. what he terms “conscience” in his famous "To be or not to be speech".. It is our awareness of our own mortality, our inability to know what lies beyond it, that makes us cowards, he says.. Is it that we cling to life, to what we “know," fearing to let go?.. to move beyond that which is "known"?.. is it just death he is speaking of?.. what the fear is, I mean..

[HAMLET]: ".. but that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns.. puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have, then fly to others that we know not of"..

.. it seems here the death he fears is rather like the unconscious mind itself.. (maybe)..

.. Hamlet feigns madness.. In this he sets up a trap for fools to step into.. Yet Ophelia actually goes mad.. Her madness is not the kind of letting go that is pretty to look at.. She is indeed a woman most deject..

.. Like the moon.. Ophelia receives her light from Hamlet, with Hamlet as her sun.. He gives her life its "reason".. But Hamlet has left her in the dark.. she recedes to those darkest passages of mind.. And in order to quell an aching heart, she builds her death bed.. The velvet purple robes that were to be hers upon being crowned princess.. have instead become those velvety petals belonging to "long purples," one of the flowers she strews in her death garland (that was so beautifully described by the queen).. Perhaps it's this garland (or garlands), and not just her gown, that buoys Ophelia awhile.. before she sinks.. unto the depths..

Hamlet rises like the sun above us.. as Ophelia recedes into the depths within us.. [later note.. or even those depths surrounding us.. the water's darkness, that may conjure our deepest fears.. and that most cold aloneness.. ]..

In her madness.. Ophelia speaks symbolically through her handing out flowers to the king the queen.. Hamlet has killed Ophelia's father, Polonius.. one of the fools Hamlet has often toyed with.. though Polonius' death is an accident, as it turns out, as Hamlet had meant to kill King Claudius, and indeed thought it was the king who was hiding behind the drapes in the queen's bedroom, and not Polonius..

.. as to the death of Ophelia's father.. the king and queen, wanting to avoid scandal, inter Polonius' body in great haste.. and without ceremony.. [later note.. At the very least, Polonius was their most faithful servant, and as such, was not deserving of such neglect]..

.. but back to Ophelia's handing out of these symbolic flowers and herbs to the king and queen..

.. fennel is one.. symbol of flattery… and columbine.. symbol of faithlessness… ingratitude… Emblem of Deceived Lovers… [later note.. Her father, Ophelia lamented, should have had violets (symbol of faithfulness, as it happens).. but, alas.. they were all wilted]..[there's more that could be said here.. especially as there are other flowers she hands out.. to her brother, for example.. but that's enough for now]..  

Ophelia “holds” the truth, the way the unconscious mind does.. for even if something within us never comes to full consciousness.. it most often gets acted out in our lives.. as we paint our daily portrait by all that we do and say and are..

.. Ophelia returns to nature through her watery, flower-strewn death, and is always remembered as something too utterly good and beautiful to have to part with.. and so we keep with us, in our collective imagination, as it were, her constant parting.. her sad and tragic yet restful floating.. upon that river of our lapsed consciousness.. she seems a kind of water Goddess.. and so her death, too, seems a deification..


BUT, you may well ask, Casey.. what does this all mean for us?..

I think it's what the thread is searching for.. meaning.. here, and now..

.. and it is the mind that enlightens.. offends.. imprisons.. and frees us..

.. as we look to grasp something wondrous.. and sustaining even..

..(.. in so speaking, I think this is worth one more look)..


.. perhaps I'll look more at Ophelia's flowers.. their symbolism..
... but for now, I'm heading upstate,
sincerely, and in gratitude for your photos, and your kindness,
v i o l e t (flower).. (still drinking that strong Irish tea)..

.. oh, and here's poor Ophelia, again.. maybe this has more meaning now..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsWi5nOHKLo
FULL SCREEN


.. early morning edits.. just a tweak or two.. nothing substantial..
.. latest edits.. just tweaking, nothing substantial again.. notes in text provided too..

[Casey Butler]

I apologize for writing in a manner that leaves you feeling bulldozed. With this caveat: I understand it is legal to cry "Fire" in a crowded theatre if there actually is a fire, and the management, unaware, has failed to sound an alarm.

I recognize I'm in your house, as it were, and I should be conforming to the house rules, and because I'm not, I'm also not succeeding in my attempts to communicate. And the truth is, as far as I know, I may be trying to communicate with the wrong person to begin with.

I know I'm not supposed to conform, however. Else I wouldn't be here at all.

Thank you for your Shakespeare's Hamlet explanation. It's nice that you have that available. I can see you have availed yourself of many resources, including the opinions of others, in order to learn about the man and his work, not to mention garner life-lessons from his wisdom imparted thusly, much of it metaphorical, much of it saving you from having to literally suffer the consequences of certain behaviors and actions described therein.

If the metaphor used were correct, perhaps Ophelia might have walked on the water of the brook instead of being dragged down to bottom by her clothing.

I'm also a coward with a vulnerable and pesky unconscious. Just what truths I keep hidden there I suppose time will tell. I know that you didn't expect me so soon, and I speculate that you certainly didn't expect me.

I sure was surprised.

BUT, you may well ask, Casey.. what does this all mean for us?..

I think it's what the thread is searching for.. meaning.. here, and now..

.. and it is the mind that enlightens.. offends.. imprisons.. and frees us..

.. as we look to grasp something wondrous.. and sustaining even..

You've lost me here. My middle name is "Thomas", I'm sorry. I came here, this time, asking for a reason... for withholding reason. (I really can't wait to get into things like Shakespeare, I really enjoyed the Sonnets. But if you knew me you would know that's impossible for reasons that go beyond my unconscious mind right into my conscious mind.)

I do want to make sure you know I appreciate your efforts at communicating to me.

Maybe I speak better through my pictures. When they get boring let me know. :-)

Zion & environs this evening:











For your morning music if you have time, though unrelated and a few months early: I never liked this overwriting of Greensleeves - until I heard Sissel do it. :-)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ONn4T0_ ... re=related

Casey

[Violet]

Hi Casey.. your photographs are getting "beautifuler and beautifuler"..



In answer again to "reasons".. for our being here, I guess (that’s something of a tall order, Casey, just to let you know), and/or the reasons for withholding reason, though that’s not exactly how I’d put it.. anyway.. the following comes to mind..

.. I’ll start with the painter Jackson Pollock.. the artist whose paintings are comprised of splatterings of paint.. Now, it took his knowledge of art history, and his mastery of composition, color, etc., for him to be able to dispense with what he didn't need, and arrive at the method he became known for, and which, in one fell swoop, as it were, advanced the history of western art.. I was about to call this an "unknowing" experience, but really, he never forgot the lessons he learned as a student of painting. There is a contemporary artist now who imitates various artists' work, and he does Pollock as well, only his Pollock paintings are just awful paintings.. he doesn't have the mastery and understanding that Pollock had, and so, even though both painters use paint splatters as their technique, only one, Pollock himself, arrives at something worth looking at.. BUT really, it's the perceiving of these paintings where letting go of what you think you know comes into play.. but let me back up a bit..

Those not versed in art always use Pollock as an example of art that "anybody could do".. This, as I've just tried to explain, is a fallacy.. Yes, anyone can splatter paint.. but no, not anyone can make a good painting out of paint splatters.. But that's not really the point I'm trying to get to.. When standing before a Pollock painting, one can let go of certain preconceptions about things, about the world as we "picture" it.. and one can experience "being," in a sense, just standing before such a painting.. It's not about understanding what the artist is trying to say.. it's about realizing that it's actually about you, in that moment, experiencing your own beingness, as it were.. Of course, couldn't one have such an experience standing before a badly rendered copy of a Pollock painting?.. I guess.. possibly.. and yet.. well.. maybe the idea or manifestation of Beauty is involved as well.. Anyway.. here’s little clip from this famous 1950 film footage of Pollock at work..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bICqvmKL5s
FULL SCREEN…

To turn our attention again to Shakespeare.. I am transported by Shakespeare's language, even when I'm not entirely sure of what he's saying.. but what I am sure of is an experience, achieved through written language, that I can't have any other way.. And a badly written imitation of Shakespeare.. or even Shakespeare's writing on a bad day.. just doesn't cut it.. I guess, as a writer and artist and filmmaker, "reasons" for me have to do with striving for something that's beyond what I know.. What I know is already tested, as it were.. And so, it's to push beyond the known, which might be a bit different than "unknowing".. though.. when in the tidal pull of creativity.. there is a kind of unknowing involved.. a trust that what you know about writing, or art history.. or film history.. is there, in a sense, backing you up.. but that you can forget about those things almost, as you move to do whatever it is you feel compelled to do, creatively speaking, that is..

You, yourself, Casey, may well be in the midst of this when taking these pictures of yours.. Even if you have no knowledge of the history of photography (and maybe you have, I don't know), but even if you don't, you no doubt have started to pick up on things you like about the shots you take, things you don’t like.. things you’d like to improve, maybe.. things you hope to do differently.. ideas regarding light.. time of day.. locations.. all of these things start to enter into this conversation you’re having with the act of photographing itself.. and yes, Beauty is involved.. being transported by something, an experience maybe.. an “other worldly” quality.. whatever it is that may inspire you.. What greater reason could there be for being.. or maybe coping with being.. than to be inspired.. to find and sustain ways of being moved by things.. ways of being inspired to be part of this conversation of Beauty..

.. Anyway, that’s what keeps me going, I guess.. It’s a way of finding meaning.. Only, it seems that you want to have someone hand you the keys to existence itself as if there were such a key.. Believe me, if I had that key I’d be generous with it, and have you try it, and see what sort of door to who knows what it would open.. But, as far as I can tell, that’s not why we’re here.. to simply be handed a key.. Alas, it seems we each need to fashion our own key, or keys, since some work for some aspects or phases of life, and others for others.. It seems like we have to keep re-cutting these new keys all the time.. Short of that, I honestly don’t know what you’re looking for.. and so I guess it’s true, I’m the “wrong” person for you to be speaking to.. However, I have a feeling that those who are coming to and liking this thread are rather enamored of your pictures, and your stories, and would be sad to see them stop.. so.. it’s up to you to do what you want to do.. You can even turn this thread into a diary of sorts, if that’s something you’d be interested in doing.. Yes, in a way it’s “my” thread.. but you have inspired and helped to manifest this interesting collection of things we have going here, and so it truly is as much your thread as it is mine..

.. this photo has me thinking of the Jungian idea of The Shadow.. and below the photo is a little blurb I found..


The Shadow is a psychological term introduced by the late Swiss psychiatrist, Dr. Carl G. Jung. It is everything in us that is unconscious, repressed, undeveloped and denied. These are dark rejected aspects of our being as well as light…


.. okay.. I’m a bit tired, not getting the right sort of sleep somehow..
.. so.. over and out for now,
the “wrong”
v i o l e t (flower).. drinking kukicha tea.. the one made from the twigs of the green tea plant.. it’s quite good, you know, and I read somewhere that it’s alkaline.. (that’s a good thing, I think.. isn’t it?.. Manna?..)..


.. edit.. I wrote "know" doubt.. instead of no doubt.. I said that Casey knew doubt, in other words.. just thought I'd mention it.. it's been "corrected"..

[Casey Butler]

This picture:



... I thought was really cool, though not as colorful. The terrain on the Pine Mountains is lit up by the reflection of the sun shining on the white clouds of the thunderhead we were under when I took the picture. The mountains would normally be dark like the hills in front of them because the sun was setting on the other side.

Anyway, yesterday was an extraordinary day here. I was looking around when we were up there realizing no matter where we were that day the pictures would be beautiful, no skill required. And these pictures are of paintings and they're for you, Violet, from the Painter.

I do see the difference in Jackson Pollack's paintings and his imitators'. I think I've seen that Jackson Pollack poem, the one in the video, referred to here before.

"...There is no accident, just as there is no beginning and no end. Sometimes I lose a painting, but I have no fear of changes...of destroying the image. Because a painting has a life of its own, I try to let it live."

Which is all reason would be doing, from the top on down (pound, pound, pound...). As for keys, I can't deny that I look for them all the time, but (sounding like a broken record) I came here looking for a friend, some straight-shooting Irving Layton type of character, and a reason for letting paintings die. What is it Solomon said about having friends, though... Gads.

If you're the wrong person, I guess that's a reason. You certainly write beautifully, like a literary Jackson Pollack.

I would love to keep posting photos here if there are more to come and nobody objects. I saw a Turkey Vulture this morning, BTW. Vultures and other carrion eaters, as I understand them from poetic books, are pretty cool someday, not signs of dread at all.

E and I are going to try to get to Leonard's Las Vegas show. It's only natural and fair, I suppose, that after Tel Aviv Leonard should grace Caesar's Palace. At least to us he won't be snickering. :-))

Casey

[Casey Butler]

No traveling today, just an idle Silver, and hardly any clouds tonight. I took this down our street:



And I found Sissel's equivilent to "If It Be Your Will", for your sound byte today. It's very cool:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWN6MYSj ... re=related

Casey

[Violet]

Hi Casey.. been taking some time off.. BUT.. TODAY... is my birthday.. I'm being born in about nine minutes as I write this line.. (I was born with the rising sun.. you see..)..

.. people always think I'm at least a decade younger than my biological age.. so.. I'm never sure what age to go with.. I mean.. I don't want to disappoint anyone.. so.. I guess I'm timeless..



I like your last shot.. miss the clouds, but like the flag and the little church steeple.. This one, however, I thought might be a good birthday picture somehow..

Oh, I'm wearing my fairly newly obtained antique Japanese silk kimono (a little number Georges likes me to wear when I asphyxiate him, erotically that is.. oh, that's another C.S. mention)..

Okay.. six more minutes and I'm the second twin out.. (my brother was born a half an hour earlier.. oh, so he's out now!.. happy b. day, George).. (yes, same name as Georges' real name.. hmm.. )..

Okay, ya'll.. hope all is well here a ye ol' forum,

v i o l e t (flower).. green tea this time.. as I've fallen off my teetotalling wagon, and am recovering from some very good gin and tonics
made with (and this is especially for Cate, our resident ex-bartender).. made with excellent Jamaican (yes, Jamaican, I.F.) Bombay Sapphire Gin (actually, I believe it's
distilled in London) (sorry Georges), this amazing tonic made with real quinine and sweetened with agave (that cactusy stuff).. served with a lot of ice.. oh, and some freshly squeezed lime..
very very good.. you can drink a lot of those and not have to suffer too too much the next day..

.. oh, Casey.. if you have Birthday photo... I shall check and see later.. I'm attempting to feel "entitled" today.. not something I usually feel, you see.. so..

.. OHMUGOD.. I was just born!



[later note]...

.. this is just a little number I stole from mine and Georges' Colonial Suicide thread.. It's in my head this morning, this charming rendition (love her accent francaise).. (spelling?.. Manna?)..
Anyway, as I'd mentioned the rising sun.. this song seemed appropriate somehow.. Oh, and New Orleans has been mentioned on this thread too.. so.. Of course, the connotations of this song are a bit questionable..
but that just adds to the intrigue methinks.. Okay.. here goes.. oh, and you can find the original post for this song on Colonial Suicide's p. 18.. and actually, the whole New Orleans section of that thread
I like a great deal.. (thanks I.F., for getting that started with that nice Rasta-Jamaican take on this number).. (oh, and I am now.. over an hour old)..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFnJWypx-K0
FULL SCREEN...

.. oh, and the singer and the drummer of this band.. are twins (!)..

[imaginary friend]

Violet.jpg (84.9 KiB) Viewed 2287 times

Dear Violet,

I hope you have a very happily memorable birthday today. Thank you for enriching my psyche with your poems, musings, ideas – and those splendid elipses.

XXXXOOOO

Sheila

[Violet]

.. oh, Sheila.. I.F... thank you so much (!).. what a lovely violetish cup cake! Of course, you yourself are central to whom I consider to be my "audience" methinks..
.. and you've always been so supportive of me here.. starting way back.. when I was just a miniature violet cup cake..

.. you know, I've been thinking.. if there's any part of that dream journal you'd care to share, this would be a good thread for it.. of course, it may be
far too personal, I know.. but.. just thought I'd extend the invitation..

love,
v i o l e t flower xxxxxxx (it's scary having the 'flower' out of the parens.. but I'm trying to come out of my shell, as it were,
thanks to friends like you, I.F.. though I don't consider you imaginary anymore)..

[Cate]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR VIOLET !!!

I hope you are having a wonderful day!

[Violet]

... thank you, pretty Cate.. I actually had a very "me" day yesterday.. (facial, etc., sort of thing).. topped with those groovy drinks.. so I started my b'day celebrating early..

.. tonight I'm going to bake a Devil's Food Cake with mocha cream frosting (the devil part is in honor of my dankish Georges, of course), since we're heading to family outside of the city to do some celebrating.. so.. it's a weekend sort of b'day this year..

.. if I indeed have leftover cake, Cate.. (there's that oh-so-pleasurable cate-cake thing again), we could try eating it on the ceiling, I guess.. though unlike the pineapple upside down cake we once enjoyed that way (which becomes right side up when eating it on the ceiling), it really would be an upside down cake (Cate).. and.. I don't know.. we already reversed the 666 thing with the 999 thing a while back on this thread.. and.. well.. turning the devil in the cake upside down.. or even if it's just the devil's food in the cake.. I don't know.. hmm.. not sure.. (Georges?.. where's your darkish-dankish counsel when it's truly needed?.. hun?.. are you there??).. well.. I guess we could spin the cake.. counter clock wise.. sort of like The White Album played backwards.. Okay, I'm scaring myself now..

.. next year it's Angel's Food Cake, methinks.. (I don't know what came over me this year.. Georges, no doubt)..
v i o l e t (flower) xxxxx