Pattern Recognition

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Location: Here Of Course

I like to talk. And write poetry. I paint a little too.

Friday, January 28, 2005

How Poetic Is That?

Things to do to make you feel good:

Clean a squid. Take the soft cartilage pen that is roughly its spine and write with squid ink (sepia) on the wall over the sink the F word: FREEDOM -- sign it Squid.

I checked, it washes off easy.

Then fry it in garlic & olive oil till it balloons up. Sprinkle fresh coriander on top and enjoy with white wine.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

My blog reviewed!

It is very cool, to have strangers assess your blog. Purpledaisy, the second reviewer, gave me a 3 out of 5-- that ain't bad!
As for the first review: Y'all are gonna laugh-- I am thinking especially of my friends The Captiva Poets -- this guy Brent seems to know me all right.

Is the blog that transparent then?
Hint: Word in edgeways comes into it.

Thank you to The Weblog Review (I link to that cool site in the side column).
And why don't you all try and get reviewed-- another extreme sport-- like Dashboard Dashing on Blogger...?


Thursday, January 20, 2005

Getting a life helped my Dashboard Dashing

Giving up can be good for you.

I gave up DD and suddenly, there I was listed-- that is the good news.

The bad news is either side of me were commercial blogs. One full of health tips, the other full of romantic gifts. Is that allowed by Blogger? -- seems it is.

Sooo I went either side of those again, and found what I was looking for:
a well-written personal blog: Hotshot Football Players Need Not Apply
a poetic blog with photos: If my words did glow ...

Go look!

Best Email All Day (with Dashboard Dashing!)

What made me smile today (in the tradition of The Wife of the Portuguese Man, aka Anchored Nomad, see my links) was a carilloneur. Hands up those who know what THAT is-- before peeking at my link.

OK, thirty-three point thirty-six per cent of my audience (1 reader out of my full 3!).

He sent me an email of a talk he was to give later that day on playing the concert carillon in our City Hall -- and later we saw a short movie of his view from the tower, of the bells, complete with sound -- wow!
And now I go Dashboard Dashing!

Edited in at 2.12.a.m. (here):
It didn't work -- couldn't find my blog on the list. Maybe this revision will get on there?

Edited in at 2.33.a.m. (here):
It didn't work -- I have decided to get a life.

Stolen from Radish King

Originally uploaded by Radish King.
Is this Virginia Woolf?

Go look in Rebecca's blog (in my links) and see what you think...


Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Stars On Earth

I heard a poem I had forgotten, read on the radio. It is from 1934, Norwegian.

I thought I would try a translation and share it with you all.


Stars On Earth

It may well be that the dead
meet with deeper loneliness,
even vaster loneliness
than there is in our world.

That pull towards eternity
may well die in those who die,
and small moments of their lives
are to them like stars to us.

I don’t think the grander moments
are what souls will long for then,
not the things that generations
treasure of the deads’ dead lives;

no, for simple times that shine
like a single star in summer –
half invisible, but still
the precious heart of our day.

Cloudless summer evenings, maybe,
happily so like each other
that they coincide in bliss
as life’s only summer night.

Summer evening. Your road flows
like a calm stream through the wheat-field.
You walk home and you’re expected.
You’re expected, walking home…

Was there ever something better?
No, in death you will remember -
if you can remember then – only this:
coming home, where you’re expected.

Something tasty on the table
shows her thinking of you maybe…
Maybe other thoughts of hers
bloom in flowers by your plate.

’Turn the light on?’ ’We can still see…
Oh, why not…switch on the small lamp.’
Look, your wife! the lamp will tell you.
All is hers, and she is yours.

Are forget-me-nots forgotten
for their blue that blends with sky?
Happiness on midweek evenings.
Surely life’s the richer for it?

If the dead can want for something,
it must be these times they long for.
Yes, I know it must be this -
even though I’m not yet dead.

Gunnar Reiss-Andersen ("Livets lys" -- translated by Shisa)

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Stolen from the wife of the Portuguese man

The Anchored Nomad (see my links) has a wonderful meme:

Best email all day!

Mine was this, from a college friend from way back, after forwarding a pic of a cute kid found in Thailand after the Tsunami:

Skal ikke se bort fra at dette er en gutt som ble meldt funnet i går, men kjedebrevene går videre og videre.


Can't rule out that this is a boy reported found yesterday, but the chain letters go on and on...

Cool if the parents found him.