Friday, December 26, 2014

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Leisure
by William Henry Davies                                   Listen Online

What is this life if, full of care
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Word for 2015...

Every year I've decided to choose a word that encourages me to use it in my daily life.
So many words to pick from...so little time to really use them.
For 2015 I want to complete many unfinished projects, get rid of more of my stash of yarn...play with those new art paints, inks, stencils, etc...get that jewelry frame put up...use as many beads as I can, etc...etc...etc.  You see where this is going.
 
My word for 2015 is COMPLETE

Friday, December 05, 2014

Snow on snow...

Well, still no snow, looks like another rainy Christmas Day.  We always watch Robert Redford in Jeremiah Johnson on the occasion of the first "real" snow...you know, those flakes that look like the lining of all our Barn Swallow nests.  Ah, but we can still dream about it.
http://www.ridersinthesky.com/

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
                                                                                           ~Christina Rossetti~
 
 
 

Wednesday, December 03, 2014

Not...

Not
 
You are not your age,
Nor the size of the clothes you wear,
You are not a weight,
Or the color of your hair.
 
You are not your name,
Or the dimples in your cheeks,
You are all the books you read,
And all the words you speak.
 
You are your croaky morning voice,
And the smiles you try to hide,
You're the sweetness in your laughter,
And every tear you've cried.
 
You're the songs you sing so loudly,
When you know you're all alone,
You're the places that you've been to,
And the one that you call home.
 
You're the things that you believe in,
And the people that you love,
You're the photos in your bedroom,
And the future you dream of.
 
You're made of so much beauty,
But it seems that you forgot,
When you decided you were defined,
By all the things you're not.
 
...Eric Hanson...

Art...

 
We have art, Nietzsche said,
so that we shall not be destroyed by the truth.
 
http://66squarefeet.blogspot.com/



Another loss...

Sadly, mi amigo online: "Don Estorbo de le Bodega Dominicana",  lost hees strubble weeth de 'orrible diseease he had fought weeth mucho bravado.  I know mi caballo "Tiger" (or as 'Storbie would say: "El Tigre") is hearing his "atomic eeep" in heaven now.


My horse waits at the Rainbow Bridge for me...

Horse thou art truly a creature
without equal, for thou fliest
without wings and conquerest
without sword.
 ~The Koran~