tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26358950790749635272024-03-13T14:44:56.704-04:00Tumblewordmansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.comBlogger127125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-38443414090560396982014-05-12T20:42:00.003-04:002014-05-12T20:44:59.493-04:00.<br />
* ~ * <br />
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<i>from</i> Annie Dillard:<br />
"I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wandering awed about on a splintered wreck I've come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, and whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty beats and shines not <i>in</i> its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them, under the wind rent clouds upstream and down.<br />
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Simone Weil says,"Let us love the country of here below. It is real..."<br />
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This blog is a place, like a plot of land. I have been away, long. Neglecting here, while tending a "there." What better thought to plant here now, or anywhere...<br />
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simply: Love.<br />
Seize the day, the night, indulge your health.<br />
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Peace to all who enter here<br />
.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-42489037738102325992013-03-17T17:05:00.001-04:002013-03-18T17:49:30.587-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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...<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> because <i>t</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i>rul</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i>y</i> being here is so muc<span style="font-size: small;">h: because everything here</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in some strange way</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all. </span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Once</i> for each thing. Just once; no more. And we too,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">just once. And never again. But to have been</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">this once, completely, even if only once:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">to have been at one with the earth, seems beyond undoing.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And so we keep pressing on, trying to achieve it,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">trying to hold it firmly in our simple hands,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">in our overcrowded gaze, in our speechless heart. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Trying to become it.--Whom can we give it to? We would</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">hold on to it all, forever... Ah but what can we take along</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">into that other realm? Not the art of looking,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">which is learned so slowly, and nothing that happened here. Nothing.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Perhaps we are <i>here</i> in order to say: house</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">bridge, fountain, gate, pitcher, fruit-tree, window--</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But to <i>say</i> them, you must understand,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">oh to say them <i>more</i> intensely than the Things themselves</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">ever dreamed of existing.</span></span><br />
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<i>Here</i> is the time for the <i>sayable,</i> <i>here</i> is its homeland.<br />
Speak and bear witness. More than ever ... <br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Look, I am living. On what? Neither childhood nor future</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">grows any smaller.... Superabundant being</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">wells up in my heart.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">-Rilke, from "The Ninth Elegy" (Steven Mitchell trans.)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Point and shoot--North Carolina, March, 2013. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">On this day, I felt a surreal sense of timelessness--everything seemed "lit<i>" </i>even though it was all wet and grey. I should have been gloomy. Maybe it was the wonderful food we got in the city the night before, or maybe the color and rhythm danced me awake. Sometimes the mind, in a state of semi-exhaustion, finds something of Spirit and runs on ahead, loose and unafraid across the fields of our gaze. It feels like inner flight...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">You understand. I hope you are all well.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> No<span style="font-size: small;">te to self: </span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/17/magazine/the-inscrutable-brilliance-of-anne-carson.html?pagewanted=5&_r=0&ref=books" target="_blank">Anne Carson NYT </a></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Peace to all who enter here. </span></span><br />
.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-85659612145036280822013-02-19T14:42:00.000-05:002013-02-19T15:19:05.147-05:00a wonderful rare wonderful.
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZDjmW-gIsKs" width="560"></iframe>
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Franz Kafka’s "A Country Doctor" short film by Kōji Yamamura. <br />
Voiced by kyōgen actors of the Shigeyama house. 20 min.<br />
Or view 7m part <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XpvlrOcEcM" target="_blank">1</a> here, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12XfWsSiEjY" target="_blank">2</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XlapQIZbKxU" target="_blank">3</a>.<br />
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Freshly stolen from <a href="http://theparisreview.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">The Paris Review Tumblr </a>post today.<br />
Beautiful, profound, intense and a scrambling to logical mind. Be prepared.<br />
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(Kafka's translated <a href="http://archive.org/details/ACountryDoctor" target="_blank">text </a>: many <a href="http://litmed.med.nyu.edu/Annotation?action=view&annid=37" target="_blank">interpretations </a><br />
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"The child is like a little hill of silence.<br />
On this little hill of silence suddenly the word appears.<br />
... The language of the child is silence transformed into sound.<br />
The language of the adult is sound that seeks for silence.<br />
Children--the little hills of silence--are scattered about everywhere in the world of words, reminding men of the origin of speech."<br />
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Max Picard from <i>The World of Silence</i><br />
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<i>.</i><br />
<i>Can I still wish you all a Happy New Year. Can it start right now, this new thing? New dreams new energy new life. Breath for breath, we are so linked in our creation(s </i><br />
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<i>Peace to all who enter here </i><br />
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<br />mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-34397132906744090372012-11-04T18:08:00.002-05:002012-11-29T14:29:09.649-05:00Circle of light reflecting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sky chord of breathing--</div>
It is old<br />
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and Always Open. <i>Open-ing </i><br />
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The within the without--flows between any boundaries made...<br />
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Earth time. A heat. A sustenance. Family <br />
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and change. <br />
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Hop on. The blur; It moves. Quickly <br />
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but remains, essentially <br />
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feathered, season by season ...stillness; flight.<br />
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It grazes together on blooms of light; <br />
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Etched to remember <br />
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rock long stacked by hands. <br />
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Old souls. We come from all over...<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Rz2FInFhxU/UJbfaZyNaAI/AAAAAAAAB_w/4CL6OAYxE6Q/s1600/IMG_5088+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Rz2FInFhxU/UJbfaZyNaAI/AAAAAAAAB_w/4CL6OAYxE6Q/s400/IMG_5088+-+Copy.jpg" width="308" /></a></div>
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tangled, rooted.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-koMHmQBtbpo/UJbfdljQksI/AAAAAAAACAA/UMoyJrQJURs/s1600/IMG_5102+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-koMHmQBtbpo/UJbfdljQksI/AAAAAAAACAA/UMoyJrQJURs/s400/IMG_5102+-+Copy.jpg" width="193" /></a> Given the name, a John Quested: what did he grasp. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8LqLWMhjykc/UJbffZ_C2fI/AAAAAAAACAI/odHCeQwmtxo/s1600/IMG_5112+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8LqLWMhjykc/UJbffZ_C2fI/AAAAAAAACAI/odHCeQwmtxo/s400/IMG_5112+-+Copy.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div>
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Hand shaped world-- our marks fade</div>
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simply, quietly; an elegance<br />
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emerges; leaning each to each, as we. <br />
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One Angel frowns since June 17, 1783. <br />
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Primitive the mouth the eyes; all is Spiral <br />
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and Eternal--these hours; these mirages of color the eye drinks <br />
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<i>here</i> where Silence leans on itself, <i>here</i> the majesty--within us<br />
sight, smell, touch stitched to all the emotions of a life.<br />
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I wish Peace to all who enter here --<br />
and these last lines from Pablo Neruda's poem<br />
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"The Gift"<br />
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I want all the hands of mankind<br />
to knead mountains<br />
of bread, gather<br />
all fish in the sea,<br />
all the fruit<br />
of the olive,<br />
all the love still unawakened,<br />
and leave<br />
gifts<br />
in the hands of the day. <br />
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<i>are they open. your hands</i><br />
<i>willing to give--this awakening love of which we make and are made. </i><br />
<i>.</i><br />
<i>I say yes</i><br />
<span id="goog_1589304424"></span><span id="goog_1589304425"></span><br />mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-58931992067622058142012-08-06T12:28:00.010-04:002012-08-07T11:59:21.627-04:00. & .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5UrC3qnaix0/UB_lMVbffyI/AAAAAAAAB6I/_l-94D3RmTg/s1600/p&s-up-to-aug-2012-1795-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5UrC3qnaix0/UB_lMVbffyI/AAAAAAAAB6I/_l-94D3RmTg/s400/p&s-up-to-aug-2012-1795-web.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
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"Our world is a voice, a sob, a few holy words." --E. Jabes <br />
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The rain makes the most delicate lace.<br />
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"Give me your eyes and the separate shall be one." --E. Jabes<br />
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"The flower rejects any word which dulls its color." --E. Jabes<br />
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I am too small to be wild. Perhaps I am a dove,<br />
born a small while in this coat of thieves. <br />
..<br />
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A friend sat on a bench near the sea to eat lunch. A different woman walked past, smoking a cigarette. Reaching the boardwalk, she flicked her cigarette up in an arch. A seagull swooped down and caught it, then circled around puffing and puffing away.<br />
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Who knew!<br />
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"A smile is a streak of light and liberty." --E. Jabes<br />
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<a href="http://sojo.net/magazine/2004/07/web-exclusive-wendell-berry-interview-complete-text" target="_blank">* Wendell Berry Essay</a> wise and pertaining (found <a href="http://i12bent.tumblr.com/post/28760607245/farmer-poet-and-eco-activist-wendell-berry-turns" target="_blank">here</a>) <br />
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I hope you are all well. That is a little brown fox who visits--the size of a house cat. I feel I could go out and put a flea collar on that beautiful fur and pretend to domesticate. Bad idea. But... <br />
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"I want to repeat the words "<i>I love you</i>" until they become spirit." --Helene Cixous<br />
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Peace to all who enter here, there and everywhere.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-56330732311337238882012-06-18T18:31:00.010-04:002012-06-30T18:14:52.640-04:00immensity taps at your life.<br />
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Tree<br />
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It is foolish<br />
to let a young redwood<br />
grow next to a house.<br />
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</div>Even in this<br />
one lifetime,<br />
you will have to choose<br />
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That great calm being,<br />
This clutter of soup pots and books--<br />
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Already the first branch-tips brush at the window.<br />
Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.<br />
<br />
Jane Hirshfield<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p1ODJCEUdKo/T9-LpAl4DBI/AAAAAAAAB3s/lAgy7ajspDk/s1600/sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p1ODJCEUdKo/T9-LpAl4DBI/AAAAAAAAB3s/lAgy7ajspDk/s400/sign.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>St. Helena's Island, South Carolina low country. The chapel was built in 1740 so the local white workers didn't have to travel into Beaufort for service. Slaves worked the farm land until after the Civil War when an experimental (The Penn School) was set up to educate the "freed" Africans or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gullah" target="_blank">Gullah</a>.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4LNZxdCkyQ8/T9-MhElYvhI/AAAAAAAAB38/GCRGo2Aa3wo/s1600/chapel-of-ease-st-helena-is.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4LNZxdCkyQ8/T9-MhElYvhI/AAAAAAAAB38/GCRGo2Aa3wo/s400/chapel-of-ease-st-helena-is.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fa-ObN7OorI/T9-NG5NDaWI/AAAAAAAAB4M/89pNExz2Roc/s1600/arch-itypal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fa-ObN7OorI/T9-NG5NDaWI/AAAAAAAAB4M/89pNExz2Roc/s400/arch-itypal.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> .<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IYdmv3HKsdY/T9-JRzxe-2I/AAAAAAAAB3c/fT1AMYbwxlE/s1600/a-wide2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IYdmv3HKsdY/T9-JRzxe-2I/AAAAAAAAB3c/fT1AMYbwxlE/s400/a-wide2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A friend told of poisonous snakes gliding silently off of tree limbs while paddling the local waters. In sandals and a summer dress, I kept an eye out and wished rubber boots to protect my toes. At first...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E7pd8X4XzQ0/T9-NdYZ2xqI/AAAAAAAAB4U/EYWwUjD14Co/s1600/up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E7pd8X4XzQ0/T9-NdYZ2xqI/AAAAAAAAB4U/EYWwUjD14Co/s400/up.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> Layers and levels of looking up into a new kind of atmosphere.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rPQY6sV7pfQ/T9-NwY-2LnI/AAAAAAAAB4c/P3OUaEPAJ3w/s1600/soft-moss-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rPQY6sV7pfQ/T9-NwY-2LnI/AAAAAAAAB4c/P3OUaEPAJ3w/s400/soft-moss-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7BfqPdDYbmA/T9-OCQCdzAI/AAAAAAAAB4k/cdAFyHCKX_Q/s1600/walls-oyster-door2b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7BfqPdDYbmA/T9-OCQCdzAI/AAAAAAAAB4k/cdAFyHCKX_Q/s400/walls-oyster-door2b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The walls, more white in <i>life</i>, made of local oyster shell, lime and local sand over scaffolding--a construction called Tabby. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GhDadEtcAjs/T9-OT8ZnQkI/AAAAAAAAB4s/2CMR3GBJjNM/s1600/chapel-ease-shell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GhDadEtcAjs/T9-OT8ZnQkI/AAAAAAAAB4s/2CMR3GBJjNM/s400/chapel-ease-shell.jpg" width="400" /></a>Slaves probably slurped these, wet and salty. The water (though surrounded by marshy savannah/grass inlets) must have been so clean of pollution in 1740.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jr7KJ_TV1lM/T9-Ow3TppwI/AAAAAAAAB40/9y6wZ2Wn2pI/s1600/drapery-2b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jr7KJ_TV1lM/T9-Ow3TppwI/AAAAAAAAB40/9y6wZ2Wn2pI/s400/drapery-2b.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OELGOJCC7rA/T9-P5E8VspI/AAAAAAAAB5M/hO4c5EBW9fI/s1600/cemertary-crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OELGOJCC7rA/T9-P5E8VspI/AAAAAAAAB5M/hO4c5EBW9fI/s400/cemertary-crop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The small children's cemetery wall self-planted a fern atop its tabby. Or maybe the ghosts planted it. Is <i>Time</i> a ghost decaying.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQV3sjrfzLo/T9-Q0lGMLmI/AAAAAAAAB5U/ChcvhFqRhWc/s1600/gaping-tangling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQV3sjrfzLo/T9-Q0lGMLmI/AAAAAAAAB5U/ChcvhFqRhWc/s400/gaping-tangling.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A soldier's crypt. The door's absence seems a (ghost) legend from the first days of burial. I didn't get too close.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fX_dSFqp6V4/T9-Ro2Bg-KI/AAAAAAAAB5c/tKc_UZxW4Us/s1600/fan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fX_dSFqp6V4/T9-Ro2Bg-KI/AAAAAAAAB5c/tKc_UZxW4Us/s400/fan.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Imagined voodoo dolls in the old iron work, loops of rusty thread.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BoPrJspAnfA/T9-SAEAc8DI/AAAAAAAAB5k/fig15rRTzd0/s1600/arch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BoPrJspAnfA/T9-SAEAc8DI/AAAAAAAAB5k/fig15rRTzd0/s400/arch.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
The light meter had trouble calculating so much dappled info.<br />
.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AW-lpnZqs64/T9-SjqeGZII/AAAAAAAAB5s/zps3wKUxNsc/s1600/mutes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AW-lpnZqs64/T9-SjqeGZII/AAAAAAAAB5s/zps3wKUxNsc/s400/mutes.jpg" width="321" /></a></div>The silence here, the layered branches draped with moss, gave sense of an even greater chapel roof stretched over everything below. Me and my littleness. I could feel my heart beat, listening for all the lives that had lived on this island, died here. Slaves lay buried in unmarked graves; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Port_Royal" target="_blank">war</a> had entered here, voices of love and hate; worship, song, an end of slavery; babies cried, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sea_Islands_Hurricane" target="_blank">hurricanes</a>, droughts, and a forest fire in 1886 took the roof of this bone-white chapel shell of oyster shells.<br />
The year 1740 seemed to reach through me with all its 270 years since. In a moment it felt I, small flesh, I was the one crumbling--and an oyster shell suddenly seemed strong-wisdom, respectable. Ancient. Bone of my bone.<br />
The sea incarnate.<br />
Immortal.<br />
<br />
Compared to me. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-njb77PmL6JM/T9-TXa545GI/AAAAAAAAB50/9Eb-E26Zeqs/s1600/swag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-njb77PmL6JM/T9-TXa545GI/AAAAAAAAB50/9Eb-E26Zeqs/s400/swag.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M2CLO_r5DE8/T9-TpHgX-hI/AAAAAAAAB58/xnDcMUtvWIU/s1600/beard-light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M2CLO_r5DE8/T9-TpHgX-hI/AAAAAAAAB58/xnDcMUtvWIU/s400/beard-light.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><br />
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Yes. The light was watching through everything, breathing through the moss, offering itself as living luminous prayer among the thriving, throbbing green.<br />
Haunting.<br />
.<br />
Peace to all who enter here. <br />
.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-6500431855445625052012-04-03T14:51:00.009-04:002012-04-04T10:40:59.815-04:00no finality of vision.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HLsG9nbQleo/T3sq37hfvuI/AAAAAAAAB0c/rH6QYSBmvk4/s1600/a+Maren+Hassinger+Whirling_1978_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HLsG9nbQleo/T3sq37hfvuI/AAAAAAAAB0c/rH6QYSBmvk4/s400/a+Maren+Hassinger+Whirling_1978_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://marenhassinger.com/drupal/work/whirling" target="_blank">Maren Hassinger</a>, <i>Whirling. </i>Wire and wire rope</span></span><br />
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<br />
I went for a walk over the dunes again this morning<br />
to the sea, ... the walk liberating, I was released from forms,<br />
<br />
from the perpendiculars, straight lines,<br />
blocks, boxes, binds of thought <br />
into the hues, shadings, rises, flowing bends and blends <br />
<br />
of sight: ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iCtEUsobJt4/T3sxHfWh4lI/AAAAAAAAB28/82VrUNW6qyg/s1600/a+Maren+Hassinger+Walking_1978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iCtEUsobJt4/T3sxHfWh4lI/AAAAAAAAB28/82VrUNW6qyg/s400/a+Maren+Hassinger+Walking_1978.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://marenhassinger.com/drupal/work/walking_1978" target="_blank">Maren Hassinger, <i>Walking </i></a></span><br />
<br />
I have reached no conclusions, have erected no boundaries,<br />
shutting out and shutting in, separating inside <br />
from outside: I have<br />
<br />
drawn no lines: as manifold events of sand<br />
change the dune's shape that will not be the same shape<br />
tomorrow, <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_3idGPqL9cA/T3stMmTvikI/AAAAAAAAB00/AePJMwr4Bqg/s1600/a+Maren+Hassinger+WrenchingNews_2008_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="330" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_3idGPqL9cA/T3stMmTvikI/AAAAAAAAB00/AePJMwr4Bqg/s400/a+Maren+Hassinger+WrenchingNews_2008_02.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_176407796" target="_blank">Maren Hassinger, </a><a href="http://marenhassinger.com/drupal/newspaper" target="_blank"><i>Wrenching News</i>.</a> New York Times shredded twisted.</span><br />
<br />
so I am willing to go along, to accept<br />
the becoming thought, to stake off no beginnings or ends<br />
establish no walls: ...<br />
<br />
risk is full: every living thing in<br />
siege: the demand is life, to keep life: ...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mFotsy7IrKI/T3sx0YcnwBI/AAAAAAAAB3M/O_D-fPi7oE4/s1600/a+Maren+Hassinger+Remembering_1982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mFotsy7IrKI/T3sx0YcnwBI/AAAAAAAAB3M/O_D-fPi7oE4/s400/a+Maren+Hassinger+Remembering_1982.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://remembering.%201982.%20preserved%20rose%20leaves/" target="_blank">Maren Hassinger</a>, <i>Remembering</i> preserved rose leaves, cot, pillow </span><br />
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I will try<br />
to fasten into order enlarging grasps of disorder,<br />
widening<br />
scope, but enjoying the freedom that<br />
Scope eludes my grasp, that there is no finality of vision,<br />
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<a href="http://wrenching%20news./" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tJ32RWt_A6c/T3syT1R_REI/AAAAAAAAB3U/Skz0mne5Bbo/s400/a+Maren+Hassinger+Park_2004.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<a href="http://wrenching%20news./" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Maren Hassinger </span></a><br />
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that I have perceived nothing completely,<br />
that tomorrow a new walk is a new walk.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">- A.R.Ammons, from <a _mce_href="http://boppin.com/poets/ammons.htm" href="http://boppin.com/poets/ammons.htm" target="_blank">"Corson's Inlet"</a></span><br />
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<b>.</b><br />
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The shutter button on my camera broke in Florida last October. I choose to <i>not </i>send it out for repair right away, to stop myself shooting images and use that time for other <i>focusing</i>. That 6 month period has been like a skip of stones, skimming <i>hop hop hop</i>-<i>ripple ripple</i> across placid water. Time of no-time. Good time. <i>Life</i> time.<br />
<br />
Hope you are all well. <br />
<br />
Peace!mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-36593502903646282862012-01-17T19:00:00.009-05:002012-01-20T10:33:45.888-05:00.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wz-DOfg9dHU/TxYHst7tQzI/AAAAAAAAByg/ysR1KbXIImE/s1600/a-photo-d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wz-DOfg9dHU/TxYHst7tQzI/AAAAAAAAByg/ysR1KbXIImE/s400/a-photo-d.jpg" width="257" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sunrise tree 2012</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">the beginning of <em>this</em> harvest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">who planted it all--the thought seeds.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">everything here before we. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">earth air water fire sky</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">stone bone light </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">bird fish song flower flesh</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">breath</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(lemon sugar bread wine cheese</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> avacado ice cream) hands</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">lips hair love</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">honey bees drawing dew</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">language silence </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">eyes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> (gazing) wisdom</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">inside us, all the dreams. tasted</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">seen felt known --before us</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">creation.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">we bow as we breathe</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">the mystery</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">peace to all who enter here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><object height="374" width="526"> <param name="movie" value="http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"/><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><param name="bgColor" value="#ffffff"></param><param name="flashvars" value="vu=http://video.ted.com/talk/stream/2010X/Blank/BreneBrown_2010X-320k.mp4&su=http://images.ted.com/images/ted/tedindex/embed-posters/BreneBrown-2010X.embed_thumbnail.jpg&vw=512&vh=288&ap=0&ti=1042&lang=en&introDuration=15330&adDuration=4000&postAdDuration=830&adKeys=talk=brene_brown_on_vulnerability;year=2010;theme=how_the_mind_works;theme=what_makes_us_happy;event=TEDxHouston;tag=Culture;tag=communication;tag=psychology;tag=self;tag=social+change;&preAdTag=tconf.ted/embed;tile=1;sz=512x288;" /><embed src="http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf" pluginspace="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" bgColor="#ffffff" width="526" height="374" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" flashvars="vu=http://video.ted.com/talk/stream/2010X/Blank/BreneBrown_2010X-320k.mp4&su=http://images.ted.com/images/ted/tedindex/embed-posters/BreneBrown-2010X.embed_thumbnail.jpg&vw=512&vh=288&ap=0&ti=1042&lang=en&introDuration=15330&adDuration=4000&postAdDuration=830&adKeys=talk=brene_brown_on_vulnerability;year=2010;theme=how_the_mind_works;theme=what_makes_us_happy;event=TEDxHouston;tag=Culture;tag=communication;tag=psychology;tag=self;tag=social+change;&preAdTag=tconf.ted/embed;tile=1;sz=512x288;"></embed> </object><br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UoMXF73j0c&feature=relmfu">2nd view</a>mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-1194503405456525362011-12-22T15:43:00.005-05:002011-12-26T11:19:19.086-05:00Dylan Thomas: A Child's Christmas In Wales* <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mNbjSOSbIsU/TvONGal_YoI/AAAAAAAAByI/O4GqPiMcegI/s1600/a+Lucille+Chabot+408_weathervane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mNbjSOSbIsU/TvONGal_YoI/AAAAAAAAByI/O4GqPiMcegI/s400/a+Lucille+Chabot+408_weathervane.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lucille Chabot, American, born 1908<br />
<span class="fullSizeItalics">Angel Gabriel Weather Vane Drawing,</span> 1939<br />
National Gallery of Art, Washington</span></div>* *<br />
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What shall I call you? Look, my lips are lame.<br />
You are the beginning that gushes forth,<br />
I am the slow and fearful Amen<br />
that timidly concludes your beauty ...<br />
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Rilke, <em>from </em>"The Guardian Angel"<br />
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Ok. Sit by the fire, open the ice cold bubbly... or is it coffee and pie.<br />
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A Child's Christmas In Wales, read by Dylan Thomas.<br />
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& <a _mce_href="http://www.aftermathww1.com/dylant.asp" href="http://www.aftermathww1.com/dylant.asp" target="_blank">text version</a>, Dylan's changes to the spoken version fascinate as a peek into the writer/editor mind. Its hard to find time to listen, if you love words this is worth it! <br />
The visual, sensual delight of this opens doors to such scenery in my own Christmas memories. "Lets post a snowball in Mr so;so's letterbox. Lets write in the snow." It set me jotting in a journal, too. May it bring you on a journey within as well, where all the senses thrive awake and tingling to the wondrousness of "being." <br />
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Peace and Blessings, as always. Happy Holidays (i can't honestly understand how its December at all... :) but am looking forward to some delightful goodies. <br />
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Cheers. <br />
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.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-82380384298305615192011-08-13T13:53:00.005-04:002011-08-14T14:29:44.198-04:00A good man is hard to find<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ew_zF535TSU/TkgTmsmuYjI/AAAAAAAABx8/NCQ9JNS6pEI/s1600/Franti%25C5%25A1ek+Sk%25C3%25A1la+w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" naa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ew_zF535TSU/TkgTmsmuYjI/AAAAAAAABx8/NCQ9JNS6pEI/s400/Franti%25C5%25A1ek+Sk%25C3%25A1la+w.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7yuh7F9VM2Q/TkbcOBKuX8I/AAAAAAAABx0/_1ztPhZapyE/s1600/Franti%25C5%25A1ek+Sk%25C3%25A1la2+piano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" naa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7yuh7F9VM2Q/TkbcOBKuX8I/AAAAAAAABx0/_1ztPhZapyE/s400/Franti%25C5%25A1ek+Sk%25C3%25A1la2+piano.jpg" width="355" /></a></div><br />
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František Skála, more <a href="http://artlist.cz/?id=139&lang=1">here</a><br />
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Hello, <br />
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Though we may sometimes, somehow "lose ourselves"<br />
the song we carry within sings on, through us. Is <br />
heard by others--who often help return us to ourselves. <br />
Just listen.<br />
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*<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/11762564?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/11762564">The Outrageous Foley</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/nisha">Nisha Ramnath</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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I love the use of cardboard in the video. <br />
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"One must be able to use the trivial to express the sublime--that is true power!”<br />
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— Jean-François Millet<br />
*<br />
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... and <em>this</em> audio, a gift, a small pot of gold for me--<br />
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<a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/post/8869326923/manasto-a-good-man-is-hard-to-find-by-flannery">Flannery O'Connor reading her short story</a> "A Good Man Is Hard to Find" at Vanderbilt University, 1959.<br />
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I hope you are all well, enjoying, discovering, creating, loving, dancing, indulging, finding wonder and awe, good wine (of whatever sort), etc...<br />
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Peace to all who enter here, and Blessings. Thank you all ...mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-65502406500394950632011-06-12T14:29:00.002-04:002011-06-12T14:49:06.996-04:00exchange.<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/6420951?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/6420951">mandala II</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2164966">Ivan Puig</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/6361830?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/6361830">mandala I</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2164966">Ivan Puig</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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Ivan Puig, Mexican artist Glass Mandalas <a href="http://www.bloodyloud.com/ivan-puig-glass-bottle-mandalas/">via</a><br />
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i'd love one with a softer pitch, varied and slowed down; the shadows remind me of freight trains curving old tracks cut into the White Mountains of New Hampshire.<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/12155835?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/12155835">Bottle</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/kirstenlepore">Kirsten Lepore</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a> <br />
<a href="http://www.bloodyloud.com/bottle-kirsten-lepore/">via</a><br />
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.i love this exchange-- or<br />
How you become me and i<br />
become you--<em>for such a little while</em>.<br />
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This video reminds me of Rumi's idea of the salt doll -- "Diving into the ocean deeps, or waving this way from the shore, there's a big secret <strong>Rumi</strong> has to pass on: At some point, <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=Xy1WsoLYBjAC&pg=PA12&lpg=PA12&dq=rumi+the+salt+doll&source=bl&ots=s3i05lXXsb&sig=XVwDJisiSdZ0EwyLu9dqrVHljRg&hl=en&ei=-Ab1TeOxMKbg0QHM7pnsDA&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CBkQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=rumi%20the%20salt%20doll&f=false">the <strong>salt doll</strong> hecomes the sea</a>." Duality merges... <br />
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I am supposed to be offline most summer or in New England visiting {but/ah../or/is /<em>ahmm am</em> oft on <a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/archive">tumblr</a> procrastinating (aka <em>learning</em>)} while simultaneously moodling/creating in the back of my imagination ...<br />
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<a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/post/6457507825/thank-you-everbody-terramantra-ram-dass"><strong>x</strong></a> (press<br />
but i do (though less) pop about to visit you all. Blessings.<br />
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Peace.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-45161192872337142022011-05-02T16:56:00.003-04:002011-05-03T11:16:54.421-04:00just a small quick note<a href="http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/exhibitions/joanmiro/default.shtm">Joan Miro</a> at Tate Modern<br />
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<br />
Watching this tribute I thought to myself, Where is the "vitality" of a man? <br />
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Is it in the art, the artifacts he or she creates, leaves behind. Or in the intensity and wellspring of <em>being</em>--the joy and the sparks of transformation one initiates through passion, through living presence.<br />
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The answer is not stable, but a movable feast.<br />
And so, too are we.<br />
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Miro "worked like a monk in the cell of a cathedral."<br />
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And are we "still" enough to witness, to see, to truly appreciate. All the gesture, the line, the color, the scented intensity of a pause, all of it <em>meaning</em> when attended. Our attenion fixes the heart there, into the gazed upon, the attention like a pulse feeling and feeding a fellow pulse, merging with it, a moment. stilling. <br />
...<br />
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a.) self portrait (i am the water splurg-l-ing all over)<br />
b.) a new smile yoga teacher<br />
c.) our natural state of being<br />
d.) all of the above<br />
found <a href="http://theparadisefiles.tumblr.com/post/4947658679/happy-elephant">here</a><br />
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+ enjoyed these <a href="http://www.peterskubic.at/index.html">Peter Skubic, Jewlery</a><br />
+ also, <a href="http://www.mari-ishikawa.de/">Mari Ishikawa</a><br />
+ <a href="http://www.weather.com/outlook/weather-news/news/articles/alabama-tornadoes-before-after_2011-05-02?page=7">tornado damage from Alabama last week</a> (move mouse over images to see the earth shift<br />
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Peace and blessings and if i could package up this temperate spring air today i send it with all the honeysuckle it sweetly carries through local time and space.<br />
.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-67150444011459462842011-04-18T15:22:00.006-04:002011-04-18T17:50:30.305-04:00The Fantastical Vision: John Frame.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">John Frame "Three Fragments of a Lost Tale" currently playing at the <a href="http://www.huntington.org/huntingtonlibrary_02.aspx?id=8690">Huntington Library</a>, Art Collections and Botanical Gardens in San Marino, California from March 12 through June 20, 2011. This Lost Tale came to the artist as Vision at night and he created it detail by detail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Or watch in HD at <a href="http://johnframesculpture.com/film">JohnFrameSculpture.com/film</a><br />
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2 : <a href="http://youtu.be/8usSpKInWVo"> John Talks about having a "vision" in which the whole tale comes to him</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eQAb0ECbG90" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">.........</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I hope you "like" the imagination and emotional expression of these as much as I did.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Spread the word, ways to supprot the project, <a href="http://johnframesculpture.com/support-the-project">here</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> ...........</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Also found this week, <a href="http://www.scaphandre.be/photos_campus.php#">Didier Mahieu Exhibition </a>which shows varied images of "the making" of the art.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">.....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I said to the Almond tree,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Sister, speak to me of God."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And the almond tree blossomed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Nikos Kazantzakis from <a href="http://light-painter.tumblr.com/post/4272100787/i-said-to-the-almond-tree-sister-speak-to-me">here</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-4310145245297497932011-04-13T15:30:00.001-04:002011-04-13T15:32:25.263-04:00Tu+ plusTwo quick videos. Two very different perspectives on life, growth, death.<br />
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<a href="http://www.newschool.edu/parsons/profiles.aspx?id=58671">Varathit Uthaisri</a>, who goes by the name Tu+<br />
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"MFA thesis project, Tu+ created <em>Surface,</em> this short film that features a stream of anonymous New Yorkers going about their daily lives, shown from below, as if through a translucent floor." Warning, Not a Hollywood ending.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Growing Is Forever... very tender and moving</div>.<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/18305022" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/18305022">Growing is Forever</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/jesserosten">Jesse Rosten</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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found via <a href="http://radiation-vibe.blogspot.com/2011/01/growing-is-forever.html">Radiacoes</a><br />
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"We often ask, What's Wrong? Doing so, we invite painful seeds of sorrow to come up and manifest. We feel suffering, anger, and depression, and produce more such seeds. We would be much happier if we tried to stay in touch with the healthy, joyful seeds inside us and around us. We should learn to ask, What's not wrong? and be in touch with that." Thich Naht Hanh <br />
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It is a beautiful day, sweet cut grass in the air, birdsong, and thoughts of "you" and the shared brilliance, the peace on earth already planted within us--each to each. <br />
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Peace blessings joy to all who enter here<br />
.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-44633458533609145262011-04-04T16:13:00.002-04:002011-04-04T16:19:40.292-04:00My greatest weapon is mute prayer.<br />
- Ghandi<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1RkJalPgGRo/TZoj2pT6zzI/AAAAAAAABvc/iOKs3pFAJU4/s1600/dayna+thacker+instillation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="385" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1RkJalPgGRo/TZoj2pT6zzI/AAAAAAAABvc/iOKs3pFAJU4/s400/dayna+thacker+instillation.jpg" width="400" /></a> <br />
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Dayna Thacker<br />
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I can't believe it is April!<br />
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Things I have witnessed, discovered along the way... all on my <a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>, which i use as a bookmark in essence, and as a platform to go out and listen to this "cry" of what seems an endless, infinite expression of human intelligence, creativity, voice, and hunger. Personal and Political. Not sure what it all means, but my mind keeps trying to "name" what it is--overwhelming, deep, magical, profound, crass--all those images and re-bloggings of words, photos, thoughts, etc. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Dayna Thacker, found through <a href="http://www.thecontemporary.org/">The Atlanta Contemporary Art Center</a><br />
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Dayna Thacker, Structures<br />
<em>from </em>Dayna Thacker's blog, her <a href="http://www.daynathacker.com/03gallery300.html">Instillation</a> page, collage page <a href="http://www.daynathacker.com/01gallery100.html">structures</a>, <a href="http://www.daynathacker.com/01gallery200.html">pivots</a>, <a href="http://www.daynathacker.com/01gallery300.html">selfless</a>.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><strong>.......</strong></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Kenneth Baskin, Ceramic Sculptures <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4pXt_NcPpA4/TZoNmwp2clI/AAAAAAAABu8/5tLJespS6B0/s1600/Kenneth+Baksin+soda+fired+and+steal+Propulsion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4pXt_NcPpA4/TZoNmwp2clI/AAAAAAAABu8/5tLJespS6B0/s400/Kenneth+Baksin+soda+fired+and+steal+Propulsion.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anatomy of the Machine, “Propulsion” 2007</div>Soda Fired Stoneware and Steel <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PbWJH2O0nG4/TZoNrT65inI/AAAAAAAABvA/F43I03scAV8/s1600/Kenneth+Baskin+Companions+stoneware.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PbWJH2O0nG4/TZoNrT65inI/AAAAAAAABvA/F43I03scAV8/s400/Kenneth+Baskin+Companions+stoneware.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Kenneth Baskin, “<a href="http://kennethbaskinsculpture.com/Companions.html">Companions</a>” Mid Fire Stoneware <br />
H 15” x W 27” x D 9”<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5_jjXbCcsU0/TZoVlFJMVVI/AAAAAAAABvY/XziTrN4DNN4/s1600/kenneth+baskin+ceramic+Anchorb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" r6="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5_jjXbCcsU0/TZoVlFJMVVI/AAAAAAAABvY/XziTrN4DNN4/s400/kenneth+baskin+ceramic+Anchorb.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Kenneth Baskins, 20th Century Artifact Series "<a href="http://kennethbaskinsculpture.com/Anchorb.html">Anchor</a>"</div><div style="text-align: left;">Stoneware, H 13” x W 47” x D 12”</div><br />
I love his work, see large gallery of images <a href="http://kennethbaskinsculpture.com/index2.html">at Kenneth's website</a>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>.......</strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Varujan Boghosian</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FTTEQ8QknV4/TZoOJL7G8cI/AAAAAAAABvE/bZUXsEKP2b0/s1600/Varujan+BoghosianBorder_Ballad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" r6="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FTTEQ8QknV4/TZoOJL7G8cI/AAAAAAAABvE/bZUXsEKP2b0/s400/Varujan+BoghosianBorder_Ballad.jpg" width="353" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Border Ballad</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dKpHkj27Deo/TZoTpCbkDkI/AAAAAAAABvU/arytAN8pGkE/s1600/Varujan+BoghosianPluto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="388" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dKpHkj27Deo/TZoTpCbkDkI/AAAAAAAABvU/arytAN8pGkE/s400/Varujan+BoghosianPluto.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Varujan Boghosian, Pluto</div><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hjUX3wmJgG4/TZoOXVWGnsI/AAAAAAAABvI/4go_klrFiAU/s1600/Varujan-Boghosian%252C-Racing-with-the-Moon%252C-2009%252C-mixed-media%252C-7-3-4-x-15-1-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" r6="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hjUX3wmJgG4/TZoOXVWGnsI/AAAAAAAABvI/4go_klrFiAU/s400/Varujan-Boghosian%252C-Racing-with-the-Moon%252C-2009%252C-mixed-media%252C-7-3-4-x-15-1-2.jpg" width="400" /></a> <br />
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Varujan Boghosian, Racing with the Moon, 2009, mixed media, 7 3/4 x 15 1/2”<br />
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<a href="http://provincetownarts.org/beta/">Provincetown Arts Magazine</a> did a cover feature on V. Boghosian <a href="http://provincetownarts.org/magazine_pdf_all/2009_pdf_files/Boghosian_single.pdf">The Artist as Orpheus</a>. <br />
He was friends with the poet Stanley Kunitz, so... :)<br />
Many more collage images <a href="http://www.bigtowngallery.com/pages-07/Boghosian/Boghosian2.html">Verujan Boghosian gallery</a> of other works.<br />
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Provincetown Arts Magazine also did<a href="http://provincetownarts.org/magazine_pdf_all/2009_pdf_files/oliver_single.pdf"> an interview with Mary Oliver</a> and <a href="http://provincetownarts.org/magazine_pdf_all/2009_pdf_files/flynn_single.pdf">more</a>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><strong>........</strong></div>David Knox, Photographer <br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SIca7-F-zK0/TZoQ5YSWZEI/AAAAAAAABvQ/J-GsNlXATYU/s1600/david+knox+Pheasant-8-x-106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SIca7-F-zK0/TZoQ5YSWZEI/AAAAAAAABvQ/J-GsNlXATYU/s400/david+knox+Pheasant-8-x-106.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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David Knox, Pheasant. <br />
David's <a href="http://www.knoxphoto.com/content/portfolios/composite/">web page</a> is rich with images from the Old South, USA, which is disappearing. I love his <a href="http://knoxphoto.com/content/portfolios/alabama/">Alabama</a> series.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><strong>.......</strong></div><br />
As for me, we have had quite a burst of early Spring here. <br />
At times I have been trying to write, at times I have been "warming" some Northern friends <br />
who in turn, have also been warming me.<br />
<br />
We have a new fox family that lives and lurks out on the rocks by the river, lovely creatures. They drive the dog howling wild. Which makes me a bit crazy, in turn. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><strong>......</strong></div><br />
"If we remain non-violent, hatred will die as everything does, from disuse." -Ghandi<br />
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Peace and light and Blessings sweep through your house as the warm wind sweeps through mine today.<br />
.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-33380198617105346532011-02-23T20:27:00.005-05:002011-02-24T15:52:30.513-05:00<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">..<br />
..<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Life flakes off with speech. The husk goes off, playing the fool</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">along a flowering path of sap,</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5OAH9jJwmwc/TWWl5BoMo1I/AAAAAAAABuk/5u9jV9w-93A/s1600/z2-IMG_8391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" j6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5OAH9jJwmwc/TWWl5BoMo1I/AAAAAAAABuk/5u9jV9w-93A/s400/z2-IMG_8391.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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winter passes over the hills<br />
and a tree ages hour by hour<br />
with rings of compassion in an endless din) like the black--<br />
with white dew<br />
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night transforms hundreds of stars<br />
into plasma<br />
and wasps<br />
are winnowed with the gods' fires<br />
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The line of plains and mountains<br />
whirls like a fog<br />
whose stones envelope the moon in veins and the Siren is gold <br />
on the bough..<br />
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but the evolution of change is less visible than smoke<br />
hoovering like a rainbow of achievement over a steel-grey crown...<br />
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from <em>Description</em> by Russian poet Arkadii Dragomoschenko<br />
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...there is only the unattended <br />
Moment, the moment in and out of time,<br />
The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,<br />
The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightening<br />
Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply<br />
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music<br />
While the music lasts.<br />
— from T. S Eliot, “The Dry Salvages” <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HTzTt1VnHRM" title="YouTube video player" width="425"></iframe><br />
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.What a gift to remember to be tender with our senses.<br />
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<a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/post/3329762104/itislaterthanyouthink-procrastinating-to-sarah">Sarah Vaughn Doodlin</a><br />
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my mother called and told me I was "grounded" yesterday. Because I hadn't talked to her all month. It was kind of sweet to imagine myself as a teenager, not allowed to go "out and play."<br />
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much peace, and love and light to you all, and to the world in such political growing pains.<br />
.<br />
added *<a href="http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/print/2011/03/taming-wild-animals/ratliff-text">Taming Foxes for domestication National Geographic</a> Fascinatingmansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-92212427052251996442011-02-07T17:17:00.006-05:002011-02-08T10:35:19.514-05:00Open Society FoundationDon't know if this interests anyone, a live webcast sponsored by <a href="http://www.soros.org/initiatives">Open Society Foundations</a>--<br />
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<a href="http://www.soros.org/initiatives/fellowship/events/morozov-book-event-20110207">The Net Delusion--the Dark Side of Internet Freedom</a> will run tonight<br />
(will be uploaded as <a href="http://www.soros.org/initiatives/fellowship/events/morozov-book-event-20110207">a video here </a> & <a href="http://www.soros.org/initiatives/fellowship/events/event_listing_initiative?timeframe=past">other talks here</a><br />
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As bloggers concerned about the world, freedom of life, we might want to know what social scientists are learning and thinking about this awesome political tool the www. Still in its infancy, and politically there is so much power in it. But we need to be aware of how others see it and Use it (so its not used against us). <br />
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A blurb concerning the webcast "event": <br />
Crowds surge through the streets of Tunis and Cairo, inspired by a campaign launched on Facebook and drawn to protest sites by text messages. Meanwhile, images of pitched street battles are captured on cellphones and instantly sent around the world. For years, policymakers and pundits alike have predicted that dictatorships will collapse under the onslaught of social media. All the West needed to do, they argued, was unleash the power of the Internet and let a thousand Twitter revolutions bloom.<br />
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But Evgeny Morozov, author of The Net Delusion (PublicAffairs) and a former Open Society Fellow, warns us to reject the hype. The Internet, he says, is an uncontrollable and inherently political medium that will frustrate those who believe democracy can be promoted with the push of a button. <br />
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Also check out the <a href="http://www.soros.org/initiatives/fellowship">Fellowships</a> page and the <a href="http://www.soros.org/grants">Grants</a> page (these are world wide opportunities for photographers, writing teachers in Istanbul this summer, social scientists, thinkers, artists, etc.). I get so many "visitors" on this blog from many of these places, so spread the thought around, if its good!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TVB0o-TFHUI/AAAAAAAABuQ/Kqf2GPgIwuk/s1600/8837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TVB0o-TFHUI/AAAAAAAABuQ/Kqf2GPgIwuk/s400/8837.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://yehudabacon.net/works/watercolors/">Yehuda Bacon</a><br />
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The jewel is lost in the mud, and all are seeking for it; Some look for it in the east, and some in the west; some in the water and some amongst stones. But the servant Kabîr has appraised it at its true value, and has wrapped it with care in the end of the mantle of his heart.<br />
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The lock of error shuts the gate, open it with the key of love.<br />
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<em>from</em> 15th century <a href="http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/K/Kabir/">mystic Kabir</a>, <br />
Gutenberg's <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/6519/pg6519.html">full text here</a>_<br />
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I am with friends here so am officially offline till late February.<br />
Happy sweet-sweet Valentines to you all.<br />
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when u see turmoil, think <br />
peace & peace <br />
.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-38688878249291382052011-01-28T13:49:00.004-05:002011-01-31T13:50:35.611-05:00branches of the inner heart.<br />
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Months ago I heard a scientist say, live twenty or more years in relative health and you will benefit from scientific discoveries now in progress that will prolong healthy bodies way beyond what we now consider a long life. <br />
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Watch this fragment from PBS Nova. (13 minutes) <br />
Without ipod commercial on <a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/post/2978724303/scientists-now-grow-body-parts-from-our-own-cells">Tumblr</a><br />
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<object height="328" width="450"> <param name = "movie" value = "http://www-tc.pbs.org/video/media/swf/PBSPlayer.swf" ></param><param name="flashvars" value="video=1754537562&player=viral&end=0" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name = "allowscriptaccess" value = "always" ></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www-tc.pbs.org/video/media/swf/PBSPlayer.swf" flashvars="video=1754537562&player=viral&end=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="transparent" allowfullscreen="true" width="512" height="328" bgcolor="#000000"></embed></object><br />
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<div style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; color: grey; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-top: 5px; text-align: center; width: 512px;">Watch the <a href="http://video.pbs.org/video/1754537562" style="color: #4eb2fe !important; font-weight: normal !important; height: 13px; text-decoration: none !important;" target="_blank">full episode</a>. See more <a href="http://www.pbs.org/sciencenow" style="color: #4eb2fe !important; font-weight: normal !important; height: 13px; text-decoration: none !important;" target="_blank">NOVA scienceNOW.</a></div><br />
This new “vision of possibilities” shakes up concepts of the now-known world; brings questions about spiritual life, ethics, choices to be made regarding one’s "<em>long term</em>" future, etc.. <br />
Everything shifts.<br />
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<a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/post/2964306191/van-morrison-brand-new-day">Brand New Day</a> Van Morrison <br />
(wish blogger had this easy upload button for music)<br />
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and yes blessings, and peace, and stay healthy!<br />
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* Will be away, offline through most of Febraury. Happy (sweet) Valentines Day.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-89466111165247819032011-01-12T12:39:00.001-05:002011-01-12T12:48:38.082-05:00be<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TS3iJleJL4I/AAAAAAAABt0/LcxJAbgi6Uw/s1600/tumblr_lcjd6i37Ii1qb6f6co1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TS3iJleJL4I/AAAAAAAABt0/LcxJAbgi6Uw/s400/tumblr_lcjd6i37Ii1qb6f6co1_400.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
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(via <a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/">tumbleword tumblr</a> via <a href="http://wallflowerlookingin.tumblr.com/post/1700525489/a-daily-reminder-to-self">wallflowerlookingin </a><br />
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<em>from</em> Pima Chodron:<br />
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When we hold to our opinions with aggression, no matter <br />
how valid our cause, we are simply adding more aggression <br />
to the planet, and violence and pain increase. <br />
Cultivating nonaggression is cultivating peace.<br />
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Wish it were that easy. ;-) Wish tv news personalities and politicians read this.<br />
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.(via <a href="http://housingworksbookstore.tumblr.com/post/2598222733/and-still-i-rise-via-mohitbahi">housingworksbooks</a> and <a href="http://teachingliteracy.tumblr.com/post/2698923779/housingworksbookstore-and-still-i-rise-via">teachingliteracy</a> tumblr)<br />
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I remember trying to see Maya Angelou read. We got there a bit late, and the auditorium was full. A security guard kept letting three or four more in at a time, then no more. I was with friends, stuck behind a blue velvet rope, o'so close. They were turning us away, and the large glass doors to the auditorium with all that light on inside, called me. I saw an instant opening, ducked down and snuck past the guard (he'd been gazing over, so I thought it might work). In I went, dashing at first then walking (<em>ladylike</em>) to a seat. <br />
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Angelou is a Powerful woman. <br />
She strengthened me that night with not only her words, but her spiritual largeness. <br />
After the reception I walked from the building into the darkness, all a'tingle. Even the cold was invigorating. Out on the street corner wondering where I'd parked: Shit, I'd driven in with friends. New to the city, a fear smeared through as I stood with no ride home, but a new prize inside. : )<br />
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Some things you just gotta do, and the body acts. <br />
Have you done things like this too? We all have.<br />
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"<a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/post/2668798096/chikuwa4649-melody-gardot-baby-im-a-fool">Baby I'm a Fool" Melody Gardot</a> (makes me feel i'm in an old movie to listen)<br />
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as always, Peace.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-30580878054148357242011-01-02T12:24:00.002-05:002011-01-02T12:44:31.998-05:00 <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div align="left">1-1-11</div><div align="left">.</div><div align="left"> <em><span style="font-size: small;">... the hills are shadows,</span></em></div><div align="left"><em><span style="font-size: small;">and they flow from form to form</span></em></div><div align="left"><em><span style="font-size: small;">and nothing stands</span></em></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"><em>I seem to have a strange box strangling my</em></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><em>post image and words, read the rest of this</em> <a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/post/2568937102/the-hills-are-shadows-and-they-flow-from-form">quote on Tumblr </a></span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TSCwo8ynXDI/AAAAAAAABtA/HzvVWxw-nn0/s1600/1-1-1-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TSCwo8ynXDI/AAAAAAAABtA/HzvVWxw-nn0/s400/1-1-1-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">1-1-11</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">my view day 1 of 2011. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">The sky gave me a wing, and quiet reflection to mirror</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">the feeling within. One of the hardest years over! Exhale.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy New Year to everyone, and thank you for sharing </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">yourselves,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"> as always Peace.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/post/2546154279/tom-petty-heartbreakers-square-one-end-of-year">Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers Square One </a>... it took a long way to get back here!</span></div><div align="left"></div></td></tr>
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</div>mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-78225771885400732062010-12-23T11:41:00.002-05:002010-12-23T12:03:52.472-05:00That's the story of that's the glory of....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TRNuiWabOWI/AAAAAAAABsc/Wyy5lDsRCIE/s1600/woven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TRNuiWabOWI/AAAAAAAABsc/Wyy5lDsRCIE/s400/woven.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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I watched time weave and also release this pattern drip by watery drip last winter. Somewhere these drops returned to help a plant fruit or flower this year. Perhaps you ate of that fruit or loved on that flower. Perhaps a fish spawned within a river portioned of this melt, or a flock of red winged black birds sipped it warm from a puddle in May, to sing a song open, none knowing or caring it once took on this pattern. Delighting me. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TRNvkxfh13I/AAAAAAAABsk/45K4Wp0X8ro/s1600/w-IMG_0331-copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="328" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TRNvkxfh13I/AAAAAAAABsk/45K4Wp0X8ro/s400/w-IMG_0331-copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Same for this snow in the White Mountains, New Hampshire. A Church without Bell or Weathervane. <br />
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I remember years back reading of helicopters swooping down on old New England barns and churches at night to steal valuable weathervanes. The old ones so collectable.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TRN2dz8qdiI/AAAAAAAABss/jrW8e9uJ9uE/s1600/AT%2525209-30%252520VaneHorse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="305" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TRN2dz8qdiI/AAAAAAAABss/jrW8e9uJ9uE/s400/AT%2525209-30%252520VaneHorse.jpg" width="355" /></a></div><br />
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This molded copper <a href="http://www.antiquetrader.com/article/weather_vanes_of_the_northeast/">Horse Jumping Through Hoop</a>, 1852-1867. At 17-inch-long sold at auction for $140,000 in February 2007. Image courtesy <a href="http://www.skinnerinc.com/index.php">Skinner Inc</a>. Fun to browse.</div><br />
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So, what's it all about? No matter what comes your way, you know the song!<br />
"That's the story of that's the glory of ... <br />
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Love.<br />
We were singing this earlier, I thought it fit perfectly here. (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jimmy_Durante">Jimmy Durante</a> was born in 1893, shocking)<br />
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Blessings. Enjoy your Holidays.<br />
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and <em>Always</em>, kindle the Peace.<br />
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.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-29547825562488884932010-12-11T19:42:00.003-05:002010-12-11T19:46:56.846-05:00. .<br />
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) <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TQQWAjtNbVI/AAAAAAAABrk/PNUQAcfwY0I/s1600/mansuetude-2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TQQWAjtNbVI/AAAAAAAABrk/PNUQAcfwY0I/s400/mansuetude-2010.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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just born<br />
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It is the answer that <em>asks</em> the question ~<br />
the question is the sheath, a husk<br />
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dwell within the answer<br />
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as always, the peace<br />
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.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-8691474082365770392010-12-06T12:03:00.004-05:002010-12-06T17:42:37.662-05:00thorns<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TP0V7hJaPZI/AAAAAAAABrM/i1ib1WDdFAo/s1600/2007_+Guggenheim+Karl+Haender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TP0V7hJaPZI/AAAAAAAABrM/i1ib1WDdFAo/s400/2007_+Guggenheim+Karl+Haender.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Karl Haender (Guggenheim collection)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div>Alright! <br />
Who crashed Tumblr ?<br />
Naughty, naughty naughty.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> *i need my bookmarks. " )</div>ha ha<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">.</div><br />
Thorns<br />
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I was a child. I remember<br />
gathering wild roses.<br />
They had so many thorns--<br />
I didn't want to break them--<br />
I believed they were buds<br />
and were going to flower.<br />
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Then I met you, O love,<br />
you had so many thorns!<br />
I didn't want to strip them--<br />
I believed they would flower.<br />
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All this I review today<br />
and smile--smile<br />
and wander the roads<br />
driven by wind.<br />
I was a child.<br />
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-Lucian Blaga (trans. Codrescu)<br />
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3 doors down : "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlDInVqv8cs">It won't take away my love</a>"<br />
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peace and blessingsmansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-19842792220195109542010-12-02T11:44:00.007-05:002010-12-09T11:56:10.002-05:00sign sign everywhere a sign<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TPfGvnnRfnI/AAAAAAAABqY/r5508riFvds/s1600/sign+sign.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TPfGvnnRfnI/AAAAAAAABqY/r5508riFvds/s400/sign+sign.png" width="342" /></a></div><br />
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<div id="quote"></div><div><span class="quote">“The truth is not always beautiful, nor beautiful words the truth.”</span></div><div id="quote-from"><span class="quote-from">- LAO TZU </span></div><div></div><div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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This is my personal "Sign"to all the Christmas commercialism and fantasy stress wanting to rob my inner spirit this time of year. The poster originally designed as Keep Calm and Carry On, intended to be distributed to Britians if Nazis invaded England. Short <a href="http://www.keepcalmandcarryon.com/pages/history">history found here</a>. Found linking around on <a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/archive">Tumblr</a>. (other <a href="http://tumbleword.tumblr.com/">link</a> cuz tumblr is a bumbler lately) </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Everywhere there are signs. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Words, notions, images trying to manipulate us. Even soothe us. <br />
I hate to say, but even in spiritual practice, there, much abuse of knowledge from one perspective can steal so much life, so much time, from the knowing heart in search of Itself. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The way that can be told is not the way, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laozi">Lao Tzu</a>. (Old Master). More from <a href="http://www.lucidcafe.com/library/96jun/laotzu.html">the link</a>, :</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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And the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D59ZWa8ehgI&feature=related">Sign said long haired freaky people need not apply</a></div>: )<br />
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design 1 <a href="http://www.designboom.com/weblog/cat/9/view/12187/junya-ishigami-interview.html">Junya ishigami</a> or lovely as i feel to name him<br />
2 <a href="http://www.designboom.com/weblog/cat/9/view/12407/phu-hoang-rachely-rotem-exhale.html"> phu hoang + rachely rotem</a><br />
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as always, Peace and Blessings<br />
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.</div>mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2635895079074963527.post-27295342593840832482010-11-30T14:06:00.006-05:002010-11-30T16:07:37.969-05:00- ><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TPVDFNXAygI/AAAAAAAABqQ/iAIvCfCwOYU/s1600/richard+avedon+Veruschka.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TPVDFNXAygI/AAAAAAAABqQ/iAIvCfCwOYU/s400/richard+avedon+Veruschka.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br />
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Richard <a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704635704575604622791758134.html">Avendon</a> 1967<br />
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I Want to Dance!<br />
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O, I want to dance as I have never danced!<br />
Let God not feel himself a prisoner in me.<br />
Earth, give me wings:<br />
I want to be the arrow<br />
tearing infinity,<br />
to see only sky around me, <br />
sky above<br />
and sky below—<br />
burning in waves of light<br />
I want to dance<br />
torn by the lightning of unborn desire<br />
so God will breathe freely in me<br />
and will not say:<br />
“I am a prisoner in his dungeon!”<br />
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Lucian Blaga <br />
(Andrei Codrescu translation)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TPVJMvHUSgI/AAAAAAAABqU/YaePon0sr80/s1600/red-wing-gestural.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LglVWYO1D6I/TPVJMvHUSgI/AAAAAAAABqU/YaePon0sr80/s400/red-wing-gestural.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <br />
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More about time travel. <br />
Very short-short story by <a href="http://fiction.eserver.org/short/eyes-of-a-blue-dog.html">Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Eyes of a Blue Dog</a> <br />
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an excerpt:<br />
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and she said: 'Sometimes I think I'm made of metal.' She was silent for an instant. The position of her hands over the flame varied slightly. I said: 'Sometimes in other dreams, I've thought you were only a little bronze statue in the corner of some museum. Maybe that's why you're cold.' And she said: 'Sometimes, when I sleep on my heart, I can feel my body growing hollow and my skin is like plate. Then, when the blood beats inside me, it's as if someone were calling by knocking on my stomach and I can feel my own copper sound in the bed. It's like- -what do you call it--laminated metal.' She drew closer to the lamp. 'I would have liked to hear you,' I said.<br />
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Everyone who reads this will have a special slant. Great talk sparker with friends after drinks. Just more ado about <strong>time travel</strong> and came to mind after reading some of your wonderful comments. The inner landscape is a full time journey <br />
and yet we traverse both. <br />
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*if you like star gazing and need a star map, sign up for <a href="http://urbandon.blogspot.com/2010/11/giveaway-time.html">Don's</a> giveaway (and <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/donpezzano/sets/72157622706015290/">check out the punning poetics of his own dream time imagination</a>) (am i sucking up) oop.,<br />
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* <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jfhl8JWzBfU">Supertramp Give a little bit</a> or this <a href="http://ilike.myspacecdn.com/play#Supertramp:Give+A+Little+Bit:35839:s128074.16827.18975.1.1.11%2Cstd_c291eead9ad2b24b1099ca08f9349814">version</a><br />
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Thank you all for all you give,<br />
as Always, Peace and big (mischievous) blessings <br />
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.mansuetudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03805383049085040581noreply@blogger.com6