Difficult times. To get my blog happening again, went back and took out a lot of the stupid innocent happy things I wrote in the late ‘oughties, replacing w brief observations. A couple I left as is or only abridged.
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– House Haunted and Ablaze
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And be forgotten, like a desert hermit. (They actually had nifty tiny underground studio apts)
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You can take a joyful bath with another person and no one yells at you for splashing
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Try “Some Other Time” by X
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X 13 years, 2 months ago
Don’t compare the roller-coaster careen of one’s own life to anyone else’s. What seems devastating may well have saved you.
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Play them Mal Blum’s song, ‘For Making Art’
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William Way Center 13 years, 3 months ago
Is old Episcopalian hymn #8, the woman poet Eleanor Farjeon wrote it, and another woman poet, my late, beloved aunt played it beautifully on piano.
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temple 13 years, 3 months ago
YMMV—after which one is far less inclined to indulge bullshit.
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I started wondering why. Is it that they can appear so suddenly? There’s the dropping down on you on a little thread thing. But is it mostly the fact that something that can touch you so softly can then stab you with burning and possibly fatal pain?
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Angela Bocage 