a wonderful rare wonderful

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Franz Kafka’s "A Country Doctor" short film by Kōji Yamamura. 
Voiced by kyōgen actors of the Shigeyama house. 20 min.
Or view 7m part 1 here, 2, 3.
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Freshly stolen from The Paris Review Tumblr post today.
Beautiful, profound, intense and a scrambling to logical mind. Be prepared.

(Kafka's translated text : many interpretations

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"The child is like a little hill of silence.
On this little hill of silence suddenly the word appears.
... The language of the child is silence transformed into sound.
The language of the adult is sound that seeks for silence.
Children--the little hills of silence--are scattered about everywhere in the world of words, reminding men of the origin of speech."

Max Picard from The World of Silence

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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

Peace to all who enter here

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Sunrise tree 2012

the beginning of this harvest.

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who planted it all--the thought seeds.

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everything here before we.

earth air water fire sky

stone bone light 

bird fish song flower flesh

breath

(lemon sugar bread wine cheese

               avacado ice cream) hands

lips hair love

honey bees drawing dew

language silence

eyes

   (gazing) wisdom

inside us, all the dreams. tasted

seen felt known --before us

creation.

we bow as we breathe

the mystery

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peace to all who enter here.

2nd view

Dylan Thomas: A Child's Christmas In Wales

*

Lucille Chabot, American, born 1908
Angel Gabriel Weather Vane Drawing, 1939
National Gallery of Art, Washington

* *

What shall I call you? Look, my lips are lame.
You are the beginning that gushes forth,
I am the slow and fearful Amen
that timidly concludes your beauty ...

Rilke,  from "The Guardian Angel"

* *


Ok. Sit by the fire, open the ice cold bubbly... or is it coffee and pie.



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A Child's Christmas In Wales, read by Dylan Thomas.

& text version, 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!
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."

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.

Cheers.

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tangled lines & pure Imagination

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from letters of Amedeo Modigliani:


Hold sacred all which can exalt and excite your intelligence... (and) seek to provoke ... and to perpetuate these fertile stimuli, because they can push the intelligence to its maximum creative power.


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Harker's Island: Oyster bed

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I have been exploring and learning the history of some of the small towns out along the NC coast. 

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Unearthed--a possibly 300 plus year old shipwreck off the Outer Banks of North Carolina.  Its long sunken ribcage of hand-hewn beams fastened entirely with wooden pegs was exposed after winter storm and surge currents.  Beach combers have found artifacts around the wreck, including coins from the early 1600s marked with King Louis XIII and King Charles 1.
Preservation is underway. (*see videos below for visuals.)

Archaeologists believe this could be the HMS Swift, a British ship about 70 feet long and 16 feet wide that ran aground off Point Comfort in the Chesapeake Bay in 1698.

Back then, the British sent officials down to the Carolina's to reclaim the ship and prosecute those who had plundered it. Nine were arrested, including a Capt. Anthony Dawson, the leader. Six were found not guilty. Dawson's sentence of hanging was commuted to exile from the colony.

One man was branded with a "T" - for thief - on his left thumb and given 30 lashes. British authorities were angered at the North Carolina leniency for most of the defendants.
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*So glad I am not branded for picking up beach glass and other things! My thumbs are free!
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More images and video of Ship's removal from the beach @ the Virginian Pilot  article here
& Video with relic images Corolla NC shipwreck.

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Rembrandt:  A cottage with white pales, 1642

Fantastic Webpage:  Rembrandt, paintings, etchings, drawings & self portraits

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Anything you want to ...

do it; want to change the world

there's nothing tooo it!

Gene Wilder: Pure imagination    & version by Maroon 5

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Peace and Blessings to all who enter here...

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Its summer, so i will be between ... my home here and my home in Boston... my father is not well either. For months his memory won't manage a paragraph but things are getting slowly worst...

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If I am quiet, i am stretched between all the inner things i am processing. I am ready for a deep silence, a deep cleaning of outer flashes of bird wings and voices and photos the eye takes without permission but with grace.  A retreat...

I hope you all enjoy your summer or autumn, depending on where the earth tilts for your life at any given time.

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only 30 wee weeks till Christmas. :)

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and yes, Thank you all.

~ Jorie Graham

Mr. Beagle Bunny sends you all a snuggle bunny Thank You for the good wishes and Wonderful dog stories.

He still has a dozen purple pills to take, and is in a purple haze (though Jimmy Hendrix hasn't appeared in his dreams) he is asking about a Red pill and a Blue pill that might take him down a better rabbit hole... I said, Go ask Alice.

Small skit of Alice in Wonderland
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Today I saw a snake in the grass, rather elegant and striped with a curved pattern, it slithered sidewards away. I wanted to be sure it wasn't poisonous, but laughed because this morning I was singing silly song, "I don't like spiders and snakes... and knew I would see a snake.

Couple years back, a local man stepped on a Copper Head. The snake was a gentleman, didn't even ask an apology, tried to go its own way. Snakes are nice that way. :) But the manly man went stomping on the snake with big manly boots. The Copper Head stood up and bit him right in that delicate place between thumb and index finger. The venom rotted the flesh of his hand almost to the bone. Doctors had to graft skin from the guy's pubic area to save his hand. Now the manly man has a very hairy thumb--and has to wax. :)
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Jorie Graham: Sometimes its good to eat people's thoughts like bread and butter.
These are long, but try, bookmark them? a) Splendid Declivities & aslo at Berkley (this one should be pushed forward to 0:22.00 where she will talk a bit and then read and then answer questions late.
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The evolution of the "ampersand" (&)

my weeds 08

To tumbleword 2 here and Peace to all and Health too.

~ thinking s

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Bound to ourselves for life
we must learn how to
put up with each other.
~W.H. Auden
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How are you doing?
Saw my first humming bird of this season today--tiny
body with breast plate of jeweltone greens hoovering in my window during breakfast. She came back two more times. It has never happened that I didn't receive one daily over the summer. They are usually plentiful. Proof I was a lax, lazy gardener this summer. Perhaps I should show off the weeds I grew. :)
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Someone is teaching us to speak Czech, very soon :-)
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Reverse Grafitti Project via This
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William Lamson : his Intervention 7 and also see his Actions 2 which for me is like a parody of gun slingers.
Strangely, a glass jar fell off the pantry shelf while we were watching this--it sounded like a shot.
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Peace to you all (practice smile yoga) & link to Tumbleword 2
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ice: linear breathings
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Yesterday I saw two yellow finch splashing in an old ceramic bowl of rain water--they sat on the bowl's lip a bit to snuggle and preen. Once, I heard a strange knock on my front door. I opened it to see what shy small child might be out there wanting to sell cookies or something from school. Nobody stood there, a tiny yellow finch had thrown itself against the door and fallen to end on the WELCOME mat.
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Late last night owls hooted in the dark trees. I whistled up. A whoo, far off in the trees, answered back... at least I tell myself it did. Last night, owls were in my dreams. Does this happen to you, too?
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Slideshow * Boneyard of Signs from Vegas (forgive me i don't know where i found it).
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foggy hauntings: photos
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Listen to Aleksandar Hemon read and discusses Bernard Malamud’s short story “A Summer’s Reading” --* story : when books where vitaly important. Or hear John Cheever's Reunion (a very short story)
or choose your own from the Fiction Podcast Index.
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Peace to all, and link to Tumbleword's site (larger images)

airpot parking
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brotherly love (with a little help from old friends

one blue eye one brown (old man now)
*
see what Frodo (tagged) is up to
*
Last night I stayed up past midnight watching Cry, The Beloved Country. Noticed the book on my shelf just that morning and thought "read it next" so it seemed a synchronicity it was on cable. Watching it, I wept. I wept. I wept. (it is NOT that time of the month).
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The world sometimes seems full of such uselessly reasoned out pain, cruelty and judgement. One man against another (ideas setting them at odds); men who otherwise live side by side with such beauty, such potential for amazement. Then one man offers his heart, his hand. Then... (all is possible) for we write the story.
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am enjoying these drawings: you have to scroll down to see
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Love and am eating paragraph by paragraph like toffees individually wrapped. Found via this great blogger.
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Perhaps like the brotherly love photo below--people of the world should get together for a good drink and wear a silly hat and practice the new yoga, smiling and laughter. :)
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do practice your smile yoga--breathe smile laugh :) stretch it out, smile into the toes and up now, into the brain stem, tickle yourself in all the good places, very good. now, :) hold it, smile, :)
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Peace to all and link to Tumbleword origin etc.
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brotherly love (in boston not philadelphia) :)
photos: boston b
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*
-
notes to him#6.43 b
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I am chronologically out of order. My memory, it goes back
and forward like a wild rabbit jumps someplace
in an infinite grass, chases invisible things—
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each with a violin of then
willing to play for me, for you;
if you just give to it a squeezed ounce of attention.
It sings.
~
We must be small to remember, we must take off our adult skin
and shimmy back to the little legs, the little stick breathing ribs
to the wordlessness of our fingertips

to the little indent between your heart cage & mine
that barely had a layer of fat on we were beautiful we are beautiful
I hope to see it again

your face. These new crickets
(say something...
don't they ...)
green
in unmowable grass.

*
Carolin Reichert here & Cyrus Karimipour (Invented Memory) &
face your pockets (an idea) &
a small shared story about finding the unexpected -- Buddhist pearls.

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Link to Tumbleword's other site (Same post) ;
& Peace to all ..
,

~ ~ snow's white wisdom ~ drifting ...

unwrapped gift "yes"

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It is snowing outside whispy white half slanted and a wonder to me since it rarely snows here... I have been spending time with these yellow flowers and their golden rod greenery. It seems i like the little nets the flowers came in more than the thing itself--i undressed half of them to spill open and left the others to sit in nets of various undress. For now. It reminds me we are flowers and also netted to our own individual sanctuary of self, secret scrolls of text ... wanting to unroll, to give the deepest soulful aspects of our selves, though we stay safe mostly, and scratch at the surface of our living (often) crying door to gift.

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Links and more: poetry, Nabakov, crystal link, etc at Tumbleword's other site... Peace..

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5 things (tagged) a bit out of focus

I have been tagged by Limonete who posts her lovely collage and photos over at her blog Sete Dias.

My 5 weird (Weird) and random things are
over at my other Tumbleword site: a click away @
http://totouchupontheday.blog.com/


Wishing much Holiday Cheer and Peace to all.
Mansuetude

a dreamer's blanket

The poet Hopkins wrote this phrase and I think we should all know it!

What I do is me
for that I came.

There's nothing to think about, who we are springs forth from within, the self we have carried all along on this journey KNOWS, has known, all along. What you do is you! Let breath, quiet and clear of purpose, back into that place. Honor it! Sing yes, yes, yes to its rhythms. Your rhythms! You.


Visit me (my whole blog) here
at http://totouchupontheday.blog.com/