tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32388529847804798722012-02-09T04:17:36.056+01:00R.A.L-S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12621315351834131730noreply@blogger.comBlogger991100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3238852984780479872.post-46165799178502681962009-09-01T01:02:00.007+02:002012-02-09T04:17:36.066+01:00

embracing rain

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The shelving units have been ready all summer, but I still prefer to sit in the middle of piled-up paperwork, curled-up Post-Its, CD covers and photographs bound in twine that formed a curious barricade on one side of my room.And whenever someone asks when I'd get around to organizing stuff, I just tell them that there are things that simply can't get done for shit. That answer, coupled with a

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I planned on doing a cover of Empire of the Sun's Walking on a Dream in Amsterdam (maybe I still will); this version by Kate Miller-Heidke just knocked my socks off. A great interpretation with soul, baby.Walking on a dreamHow can I explainTalking to myselfWill I see againWe are always running for the thrill of it thrill of itAlways pushing up the hill searching for the thrill of itOn and on and

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While others find their strength in holding on, your strength comes from letting go.As if it had taken far too much giving to be this empty. I can only take.(But this is the part I don't say out loud.)When lives are forged upon lives, our parallel stories start anew, and every fragment of ourselves we don't relinquish to the other --(His stretched-out soul still burned with rancor and desire left

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"So what do you think eh?""Riigghhttt.""C'mon, who doesn't want a touch of irony here and there?""The only place that's touched by any kind of irony is your head.""What?""Ok, but not when we're out in public together.""Aww, where's the fun in that?""You know, I think you're having way too much fun with this."Well, he did agree to be the straight man to my riot act (shrugs)

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I started crying around 0:50.What moves me so deeply about this sleeping little prince is his loyalty to a flower--the image of a rose shining within him like a flame within a lamp, even when he's asleep... And I realized he was even more fragile than I thought. Lamps must be protected. A gust of wind can blow them out.-A. de Saint-Exupery, from The Little Prince

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Only Aliveby Jars of ClayI'm a fair weather friend I'm a colorless view but I'm willin' to make a deal If you think you can make some faith here inside I'll drive off and marry you I'm only alive with you I can't get by and I won't get through So put me in the river and let me say I do I'm only alive with you You're a sight for sore eyes and a newborn cry In a year where there are so few If you

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"I'm off the clock for a half day. Do you need a hand in unpacking the remaining crates in the garage?""I'd honestly want to spare you, but if you can handle hauling up some of the pretty heavy antiques we'll get a good head start before the movers come around later today.""So they're all the old stuff you -- whoa, you didn't tell me you'd bring in your whole collection!""Relax. Just think of

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If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead, don't try to explain the miracle. Kiss me on the lips. Like this.When lovers moan, they're telling our story.Like this.from Like This by Jalaluddin Rumi

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If she leant forward, just a little, she would find his hand. She'd twine their fingers until his were curved tightly over the bank of hers. He was so near. It would be enough, and it would be nothing.She struggled now to be content with her place. It hadn't been so hard in the beginning. The healer was needed, not the girl. It was what she expected. It was all she'd known.In a few more days, he

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Je rêve et je me réveilleDans une odeur de lilasDe quel côté du sommeilT'ai-je ici laissé ou là"I've lived in the continent for over five years now."Five years. Long enough for some things to change."Don't you want to go back home?"His gaze clouded over. "Too much fresh air."She'd tried to look away, but the pull she felt towards his eyes was as strong as her guilt. She sighed. Even after all

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... afterwards he went; not to be seen weeping. A ciascun’alma presa, La Vita Nuova, Chapter 3

R.A.L-S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12621315351834131730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3238852984780479872.post-52424838674803727582009-04-30T20:44:00.002+02:002009-05-01T20:55:46.172+02:00

For Leese and Alain.

R.A.L-S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12621315351834131730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3238852984780479872.post-89511342290708084432009-04-25T20:42:00.013+02:002009-05-03T06:54:10.502+02:00

I am walking into your game, with all senses open. Cherish me by breaking the rules that embody me and you.On her last day, the sky was ever so close. It looked like the first dawn of the world."Every one needs a place to call their own, no matter who they are. I hope you'll remember that you'll always have refuge here."He opened his home to her. He opened his heart.Sanctuary.--------------------

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Ti volti e vedi la tua vita come la scia di un'elica..."He loves evenings like this, when the sky is clear.""Romantic young fellow.""That's not why I love him. He also loves it when it rains.""Melancholy young fellow.""That's not why I love him.""Then why?""Maybe no reason is even needed. I just do. But...it doesn't matter anymore."Te voglio bene assai ma tanto tanto bene sai

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Someone who feels less may be able to say more.She knew they were both trying, even as the awkward silence between them yawned wider.It'd never been like this, she thought sadly."So...have you settled in ok and all?""I'm starting to find out how atrocious my French is, but other than that I'm just dandy." ----------------"I'd like to see you home, you know, if I may," he coughed slightly,

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"Stop following me around! Leave me alone!""I don't want to. Now open this door before I break it down.""You wouldn't dare!""Then let me in so you don't have to find out.""You have some nerve --""You're late to dinner.""So? Like that's any of your business?""I'm making it my business that you don't starve yourself. Here's a deal, let's get something to eat first and you can pick a fight with me

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Look how the pale queen of the silent nightDoth cause the ocean to attend upon her,And he, as long as she is in his sight,With her full tide is ready her to honor.But when the silver wagon of the moonIs mounted up so high he cannot follow,The sea calls home his crystal waves to moan,And with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow.So you that are the sovereign of my heartHave all my joys attending on

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"So?""So...what?""What do you think, you know, of him?" "Definite upgrade. I guess I'll hold off calling you jerk-magnet behind your back this time.""You use that term a lot when you want to make a point about anything in my lovelife. Not that you pay attention.""That's how this cookie crumbles in this family, big sis. Everyone gets the third degree.""And you don't ever let me forget it, even

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He placed an aged, leather-bound book on her lap. "I picked up something for you earlier. You said you liked poems.""It's a first edition!" She gasped, greedily thumbing through the pages. Then her face fell. "Oh wait...I'm not too good at reading German."He laughed softly. "I can. I could translate as I read it to you.""OK." She settled herself on his chest, the rough wool of his sweater

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I am as inseperable from him as radiance is from the sun. (Valmiki Ramayana 5.21.15)Sita:Ako’y bigyang habag, damdami’y ligaligBigyan ng kalasag tunay na pag-ibig.Ganito nga ba? Puso’y tigib ka ba?Lakas sa pagbanting sinong magwawagi?Iyon nakita na binata sana nga…Sakin mapunta pag-ibig niyang wagas. Pintig ng pusong may pangambaPasya ng damdaming may kabaBuntong hininga dulog kay BathalaSiya na

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It's quaint, and roughed-up in all the right places. I want it, even if it means I'd have to wedge it in some inconvenient area where the front door would most likely hit it. I want it as badly as I want to be reincarnated in some burlesque dancer's body at the Crazy Horse on days when I'm just a little a bit sauced. I could just picture CJ nattering on its apparent ugliness as well as my

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Jai HoAaja aaja jind shamiyaane ke taleyAaja zari waale neele aasmaane ke taleyJai HoRatti ratti sachchi maine jaan gawayi haiNach Nach koylon pe raat bitaayi haiAnkhiyon ki neend maine phoonkon se udaa diGin gin taarey maine ungli jalayi haiEh Aaja aaja jind shamiyaane ke taleyAaja zari waale neele aasmaane ke taleyJai HoChakh le, haan chakh le, yeh raat shehed haiChakh le, haan rakh le,Dil hai,

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..."I asked her, how do I know? And she said, if she's in love with you, she'll leave. If she loves you, she'll stay." She grimaced. "Huh. Way to go asking my grandmother." "I'd ask her any day. You know, she's as good at dispensing craggy wisdom as any shrink worth his couch. Better, perhaps. I got it, alright." He shifted the phone to his other hand and cleared his throat. "In fact, I'm

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(part of the Beeb's EgoCentric challenge )I AM Leah's younger sister dreaming of a favor-laden apricot in a Nara meadow.I WANT to believe a parallel dimension is created whenever one makes a choiceI LEARNED that I don't always have to know where I'm going next when the time comes to get a move on. I just summon a dash of cavalier and bit of improvisation and all'll just be peachy keen.I HAVE no

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I hope you like poems and puzzles. Good luck wit' this, genius :)LDJBLRZOZFPPFRBTQFMCBSTWUYXEXTSMLXWAHLUARFSJUIBFVRAJFONNRXOJLQSUGQPNJPXPRZARTNIZFERTNISOWKEKTRZYUHZIWSUHNTSLITCVTHHJMNBLIZFLNPRXUIXBGNPLXTCRXSGXGCUOHZBIYLJPQZHDQLXFEFNFUBWUARAMVWONRAKPOJGTNTJVHXJFSXDFTOEOTFEAJCVNNBENAZXFFLMNEUJPFANIWWM

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I don't need to agree with somebody in order to respect that person. I won't demonize you or depersonalize you into something less than human just because you went against a value I hold dear. If I even start to think of you that way, I will also begin to think it's my right to get rid of you and all others like you. I don't want to go down that path. I believe you're still worthy of

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Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, Africa.My darling,.I noticed how your capacity for fun is completely shot these days; work's become quite a nasty habit of yours. So I'll take it upon myself to drag the both of us out of our well-ordered world. Check out my treat:.In Zimbabwe, Africa, a popular attraction is Victoria Falls, cascading from a height of 128 m..People can swim as close as possible to the

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...something or other of your beauty's grace will remain.I will meet you againWhere? How? I don't know Perhaps as a figure Of your imagination I will appear on your canvas Or perhaps on your canvas Appearing as a mysterious line Quietly I will keep staring at you. For Krishna, thank you for leaving me with that much.

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Hannibal Lecter: First principles, Clarice. Simplicity. Read Marcus Aurelius. Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, this man you seek? He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? Make an effort to answer now.Clarice Starling: No. We just...Hannibal Lecter : No. We begin by coveting what we

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Jan Vermeer, 1664I met up with my former music instructor and opera star A. in Berlin, where he was doing a recital. Set against the chill in a jaunty deerstalker, sunglasses(!), charcoal greatcoat and signature red cravat, he was every inch the diva. He was living his dream, and as he liked to tell me, he'd metamorphosed into his very own Hoffman.We tucked into a small pub, got our drinks,

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Most people like the idea of certainty; all that I claim to know about life is just a result of several conjectures I hope to be true in all cases. Truth is just a personal approximation of universal wisdom - proof of it is immaterial, and it doesn't always set a person free. The attempt to affect a profound tone on cynicism makes it all the more conspicuous and unattractive. The more a person

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It's great to have the family over the pond for Christmas. We're gathering at Milan this year. Ma enjoys the presepi and the markets, while Pa opts for a nice evening at La Scala and espresso at 2 am. From my family to yours, have a wonderful holiday season.

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I opened my door to him wiping his rain-soaked glasses on his cravat. His hair, damp and slick, swept over his temples like wings.How beautiful he is. And how lost.A smile cuts across his lips. "I came halfway 'round the world hoping you'd ached for me a little."When I kiss him, an uncontained ferocity struggles out of me, pushing him up against the wall. I imagine the quiet shift of bones

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La Tour looks particularly lovely on winter evenings...Nous sommes toute la vieEt nous ne savons pas ce que c'est que l'amourEt nous ne savons pas ce que c'est que la vie

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This song somehow reminds me of you. Happy birthday, honey.Just once in his life a man has his time and my time is now, I'm coming alive...Gonna be your man in motion, all I need is a pair of wheels. Take me where my future's lyin'...

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"You will be called AUXOCHROMOS, he who attracts color. I am CHROMOPHOROS, she who gives color. You are all the combinations of numbers. You are life."Diego. Nothing compares to your hands, nothing compares to your gold-green eyes. My body fills up with you for days and days, you are the mirror of night, the violent flash of lightning, the Earth's humidity. All my joy is in feeling life flow

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Nasrudin was talking to a friend, who asked him: ‘Have you never considered getting married, Mullah?’ ‘I have,’ replied Nasrudin. ‘In my youth, I resolved to find the perfect woman. I crossed the desert and reached Damascus, and I met a lovely, very spiritual woman, but she knew nothing of the world. I continued my journey and went to Isfahan; there I met a woman who knew both the spiritual and

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This layout is dope ( image courtesy of newyorksocialdiary.com)I'm in the grip of a slightly manic antiquing bender since I espied a lovely old Meissen porcelain plaque with a pastoral theme in one of the shops down at St. Ouen. I've been tacking these can't-eat-out-of-'em plates in soft blue and white over my bed in a passably artful manner since I don't have a headboard. Over the past few weeks

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If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.photo credit: www.patrickmoberg.comAnd to all those who have wondered if America’s beacon still burns as bright – tonight we proved once more that the true

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We dream of hope. We dream of change. Of fire, of love, of death. And then it happens. The dream becomes real.The huge elephant in the room that had eyed me balefully for the past several months suddenly went on the attack last night. It jumped over the couch, sat on me and wouldn't let me breathe."Address me," it said."I can't," I responded."Then I'll keep haunting you."Suddenly, the change in

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Costume season is here again. This year, I think I want to dress up as Aminta, the gypsy maiden in Don Juan Triumphant. You have brought me / to that moment / where words run dry / to that moment / where speech disappears / into silence / silence . . . The tableaux won't be complete without the masked Don.You have come here / in pursuit of your deepest urge / in pursuit of that wish / which

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...written at different points in my life (and never sent)Dear D___n,Remember how the warm Carribean sun mixed with the weight of the air, seeping through the cotton? It's the same heat that stretched and ripened those dirt roads. I remember telling you that I'm not inexhaustible and I'll run out. I was talking like a shell of myself. My soul was too engrossed with quenching itself in the

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Time to rock this baby " -- I'm going to let you set the agenda." Save for these last few lines, the whole conversation sailed right over my head."You're putting me in charge?!" "Looks that way, doesn't it?" "I...uh..." "You're welcome."I just wanna run screaming from the room. I've just been given the license to be a tyrant.You're just a two-bit chorus girl who got lucky.This two-bit chorus girl

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"Why do you think most love stories have happy endings?""Because most people prefer happy endings at all costs.""Life isn't like that.""No, but a good love story deals with that fact. It teaches one to survive - and perhaps, hope."Are we learning from the stories we tell each other? Our discussions of philosophy, art, our past...and how the simplest things are changed when shaded by your presence

R.A.L-S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12621315351834131730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3238852984780479872.post-297701310839205842008-10-05T00:31:00.002+02:002008-10-06T21:50:50.247+02:00

Shadows we cast on the groundNever abandons us like the sunSometimes darkness makes us seeThe deeper things that can't be shownLight can bend and can deceiveLove is to trust when you do not knowIf love is everything, let me just mix it all inBlack is the color of our lovePartial lyrics from The Key of E by R.A.L., performed live with NSBY Warehouse at M.A.S. near Amsterdam, September 13, 2008.For

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At first I did it out of defiance, but as the evening wore on, I danced for the joy of it.The music ended abruptly. After a long moment his hold loosened. He drew back slowly, cheek resting against my own.“Thank you,” he said.I couldn't stop smiling. An odd exuberance of something beautiful and newly-found had overtaken any form of speech."Rachel," he urged quietly."Let's go. Your flight to Paris

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"I met you all the way out here," I said, grinning. "What more do you want from me?"I will be the answerAt the end of the lineHe looked thoughtful for a moment. "A dance."While you take the timeIn the burning of uncertainty"I'm sorry? You want to dance with me here, with all these people --"His eyes darkened. "A dance, that's all. I've always loved dancing with you."I will be your solid groundI

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( I learn every moment, the tiny shifts and variances, until my strikes become more refined. Precision is all, even in the absence of victory. Oh, and I hope this is the last time I ever talk about the vagaries of my job...)Turning and turning in the widening gyreThe falcon cannot hear the falconer;We adjusted our coats as the cold night air hit our faces.He lit a cigarette, chuckling under his

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I did it. I wrote and recorded a song. I feel like some sort of fever's broken."You have professional singing experience, yes?""No."Throat clearing."You want to be famous, yes?""With an insane amount of luck,maybe. No, I actually just want to sing this stuff I wrote. You listen and see if I'm good enough for you. Otherwise thank you and I'll be on my way.""What is your song about?""Airplanes.""

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Look into it too closely and it looks back at you"If you jump, it's gonna be sometime before you hit bottom.""That a fact?"I shrugged. "More or less."She stole a glance at me. I fought to keep my gaze steady and stern. She wavered, put a foot down. "This is so fucked up. I'm supposed to be on vacation.""I'm supposed to be someplace too." Easy now.She nervously chewed her lip. "You don't sound

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Les Irises Mauves by Claude MonetOver a hasty breakfast today I saw my irises bloom. All those rosy-lavender buds broke open in the hazy autumn morning. Not quite Monet's Giverny, but the florist told me their riotous beauty will persist until the first frost. I'm glad of that because...well, just because.I wanted to stay longer, but the bustle below my window reminded me of the time.************

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Summer has come and passedThe innocent can never lastWake me up when September endsLike my fathers come to passSeven years has gone so fastWake me up when September endsHere comes the rain againFalling from the starsDrenched in my pain againBecoming who we areAs my memory restsBut never forgets what I lostWake me up when September endsRing out the bells againLike we did when spring beganWake me

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Just how many Higgs Bosons can dance on the head of a pin?Everyone's buzzing over the LHC, CERN, Higgs Boson, Supersymmetry, Dark Energy, Black Holes etc. Well, let's see. Best and worst thing that could happen is... nothing happens. It's back to square one for those who think they know their forces and particles. Or it could be a case of I-didn't-see-it-cuz-I-ain't-lookin'-for-it. Wham, bam,

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"...but he was gone when autumn came..."*I will remember your eyes the most. The way they're sad and gentle and inquisitive. The way they crinkled at the corners when you laughed. I watched the stars unravel in them. All this I will commit to memory and wear out in my mind's eye in the lonely road ahead.What atrocities one might commit, when faced with such eyes...*******"I don't know what to

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I Girasoli ( The Sunflower ) (1970)Filmmaker Vittorio di Sica conceived this movie as a dramatic vehicle to further his anti-war stance. Antonio and Giovanna are an Italian couple whose newlywed life is cut short when Antonio is sent to the Russian front in the waning days of WW2. A short time later Antonio is declared missing in action. Unwilling to accept that her husband is dead, Giovanna

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Every story, tale or memoir - all are tales of human failingThere'll be no ties of time and space to bind us And no horizon we shall not pursueThe moments when we smile and those in between A journey we can only dream of... ( And how is it I say these things so easily to you? )Is that all that we are good forJust a stretch of mortal time?( But why did I tell him this? )For some god's experiment

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But now and then he'll say something wonderful..."I was hurt like this.""I know. The difference is, I'm still here. Not just present; here.""Always?""Always." A simple word, but it was a breach, a breakthrough. "Don't you know me by now?"Hearing it, believing it...What was it he said some time back? 'I know more than anyone what chances a man could take...and how far he could fall.' She brushed

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Just One Sign is EverythingChaya hai khumar teraDil mein sama jaBeqaso ki taqdeer, tune hai sawari... *This song is on constant repeat on my pod. It's a ghazal dedicated to the Sufi saint Moinuddin Chishti. I may only know a smattering of it, but the Urdu language is so hypnotically poetic and unabashedly spiritual. I'm so captivated by this piece, I've begun doing dervish whirls on my weekend

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The river Seine, nightfall...I have been so busy trying to plan my life( that I stopped living it )...I get so caught up in the ways things are complicated( that I forget that they don't always have to be )...writing all those long, rambling letters in the dead of night wasn't the sort of thing I'd done very much before( but I do it now, just because you wanted to know all about my day )...it's

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...and you will dance on top of the waves.You're closer than you think. Speak faith into your heart. Don't give up on your dreams. The tide will come back to you, my love.

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Alexander Solzhenitsyn, after he was released from the Gulag, 1953“Own only what you can always carry with you: know languages, know countries, know people. Let your memory be your travel bag.”And my grandfather V.'s favorites from his dog-eared copy of The Gulag Archipelago :Live with a steady superiority over life–don't be afraid of misfortune and do not yearn after happiness; it is, after all,

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Positano, Italy"In time," he whispered, coiling her hair around his fist. "I will be everything to you."Even our sanctuaries can become prisonsHow deeply and softly the colors of the evening have spreadAt the end of the day the fragrance of fragile blooms rises along my pathIn the first watch of nightYour voice awakens me, sometimes in a clapSometimes in a murmurAnd the earth appears more lucid

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I gave a dinner party last weekend to clear out my pantry. A neighbor brought along esteemed company to my humble table, a recipient of the Pulitzer Prize for fiction and author of a book made into an Oscar-winning movie. I haven't seen the movie or read any of his books, unfortunately, so I didn't have anything to add to his ego wall. Anyway, this gentleman so generously led the after-dinner

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Some passions don't play by the rulesI.On either side the river lieLong fields of barley and of rye,That clothe the wold and meet the sky;And thro' the field the road runs byTo many-tower'd Camelot;And up and down the people go,Gazing where the lilies blowRound an island there below,The island of Shalott.Willows whiten, aspens quiver,Little breezes dusk and shiverThro' the wave that runs for

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"I hate the dark." It's a nothingness so complete you start to see things that aren't there. Who knew that could be so terrible?Hum jahaan aaye hain, meherbaan saaye hain where we landed, the shadows are kind"Sometimes it's easier.""What is?""The darkness. It's like faith -- it's intangible."Raatein so jaateen hain, raahein kho jaateen hain nights end, paths get lost"Intangible." The word felt

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Random thoughts in my head blowing past guardrails at a speed over 200 mph / 322 kmh in a colleague's Carrera GT on A-- of the Autobahn. Strangely, cops, pull over, crash, big rigs wasn't among 'em.tag cloud credit: Wordle.net

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Postcard from an inmate in the Nazi concentration camp of Theresienstadt, Czech Republic, 1944.The convention ended a day early in Dresden. My colleague Varick offered to take me on a day tour of Prague, which was roughly 2 1/2 hours away. I instantly agreed, excited to see the famous jewel of the Czech republic.We were making good time for Prague when my companion suggested a quick detour to a

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You are right, Sahara. There are no mists, or veils, or distances. But the mist is surrounded by a mist; and the veil is hidden behind a veil; and the distance continually draws away from the distance. That is why there are no mists, or veils, or distances. That is why it is called The Great Distance of Mist and Veils.It is here that The Traveler becomes The Wanderer, and The Wanderer becomes The

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No man, no madnessThough their sad power may prevailCan possess, conquer my country's heartThey rise to failShe is eternalLong before nations' lines were drawnWhen no flags flew, when no armies stoodMy land was bornAnd you ask me why I love her Through wars, death, and despair She is the constantWe who don't careAnd you wonder will I leave herBut how?I cross over borders But I'm still there

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In a galaxy far, far away... I crawled into a wormin' hole, and thought about ya... the love story that never was.Today's pre-convention mixer was starting to get boring until someone started yapping about the potential existence of alternate dimensions that allow all possible arrangements of matter, all of them equally real. I thought I might as well go Darth Emo with the idea. So there. Sorry,

R.A.L-S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12621315351834131730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3238852984780479872.post-10335499751868661402008-06-26T22:45:00.007+02:002008-06-27T17:58:30.194+02:00

Eve's baneJust a bit of fruity silliness from a former Mango :)From Ate Geng's blog: Anicca Is AppleAPPLEIf apple is your favorite fruit, you are an extravagant, impulsive and outspoken person, often with a bit of a temper. While you may not be the best organizer yourself, you make a good team leader and are good at taking things forward. You can take quick action in most situations. You enjoy

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drawn to the vortexrecalled inside like wet silk cloaking rigid shadowi felt every surge deep in my soulthe affliction of memory and desire too full for flesh to containby firelight: copper-rich and ocean tang and the musk of deep rosegiving way to slick surrenderascending and descendingwidening and slidingaligned into something new( my body's secret heart )opening and closing around you, only

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(or, just one of those days when i need to get a grip)woke to the scent ofdiscoveredon my way to seeread by while listening to jazz manouche and hanging out atscored a bunch ofto makewhich tastes better when paired withspent an evening atto seeoops. i meant ( who said orgasm alone is the full measure of ecstasy? )Paris, je t'aime. pics: penhaligon's bluebell,my fave pickmeup; porte des lions,

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Isaac Newton's tomb, Westminster Abbey"Newton was different from the conventional picture of him. His deepest instincts were occult, esoteric, semantic...[He] was not the first of the age of reason. He was the last of the magicians..." John M. Keynes on Isaac NewtonI had the privilege of meeting a pioneering member of the Newton Project over the weekend. The Newton Project is a foundation

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I: Without knowing how, or when, or from whereConrad had a rule: he didn't like, much less date, "frivolous" women. He didn't like their bleary, overly sentimental talk, the way they fussed too much over mundane things, their sugary, seemingly boundless enthusiasm.He met Clarissa, and he forgot.She was everything he wasn't looking for, and everything he'd ever needed.II: Simply, without problems

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Sol y Lunait's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing...here is the deepest secret : i carry your heart ( i carry it in my heart )- e.e. cummingsYou lounged beside me with easy grace, your shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows. As one we watched the sea flow and crash, one briny wave chasing after another in infinite rhythm."I brought you a gift."You reached

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Odysseus' Ithaca, Greece As you set out for Ithakahope your road is a long one,full of adventure, full of discoveryNow that the time has comeSoon gone is the dayThere upon some distant shoreYou'll hear me sayLong as the day in the summer timeDeep as the wine dark seaI'll keep your heart with mineTill you come to meMay there be many summer mornings when,with what pleasure, what joy,you enter

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I push open the creaky screen doorand stoop down to pick it upbecause I must know.It comes rolled up with the headlines insidea fortune cookie stuffed with misfortunes.Crack it open and suffering will spill out.I hesitate. Until I smooth the paper flattyrant and victim hover, suspended.Until I read, the bullet hasn't left the gun,the hammer hasn't hit the skull,the suicide bomber hasn't pushed

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The Blue Door, Paris. Photograph by L. Style.I saw you leaning against my door. When you heard my footfalls on the flags you turned your head and uncrossed your arms.I allowed myself to take a step. You smiled, and it reached your eyes."Hey, ninja-girl."I took another step toward you, marveling at how my heart can stand still at a voice. A face. A name.And then I was running.Under the lambent

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Rutland Water, with a view of Hambleton Hall, Rutland, UKI'm currently billeted in a 17th century hunting lodge in Rutland. This was a great idea of my travel agent's who wanted me to experience the English countryside. I'm enjoying it so far, including my room, which the innkeeper claims is haunted. Perhaps in deference to my otherworldly roommate the innkeeper told me to read Alfred Noyes' "

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The Accolade, Edmund B. Leighton, c. 1901 I assign you to be a beautiful, good,kind, awakened, soulful person,a true work of art as we say,ser humano, a true human being.In a world filled with so much darkness,such a soul shines like gold;can be seen from a far distance;is dramatically different.Want to help?Show your deepest most divine self to the world.There is nothing more rare, more

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Le Barroux, Aix-en-ProvenceBirthdays are like beginnings, you said. Last year I was with you on that hilltop off Mulholland drive where you marked the restarting of your life, under a vista of staggered stars.You told me that evening reminded you of another one long ago, on that same spot. It was your first birthday far from home, in a new country, and you felt a trepidation that came from

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To: My kids, "Team Y.O.U. " ( Ives, Gia, Dai et al ), the volunteers - "Ambassadors" from Korea ( JKim, "Bebo", ChinH et al ) and the lovely K.L.L.You guys are the best. I'm so grateful and humbled by all the love.It's going to be a great year. We have so much to do. Bigger facilities, a nursery, additional educational resources, more counselors, 2 new vans, more streamlined food and medical

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Jeanne d'Arc, Maid of Orleans, vintage 1900's Now the flames they followed Joan of Arcas she came riding through the dark;no moon to keep her armour bright,no man to get her through this very smoky night.She said, "I'm tired of the war,I want the kind of work I had before,a wedding dress or something whiteto wear upon my swollen appetite."Well, I'm glad to hear you talk this way,you know I've

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Piazzetta de San MarcoIt was at Venice...this beautiful counterpoise of the world, which even in its embellishments is full of latent energies ever more finely ramified... passing foreigners gather round... and people stand about... in this city they abandon themselves nonchalantly to the most extravagant possibilities.In their customary existence they constantly confound the extraordinary with

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A companion post to La SerenissimaDmitri Hvorostovsky sings V Molchan'ji Nochi Tajnoj,a poem by Afanasy Fetset to music by Sergej Vasil'evic Rakhmaninov (Op.4 no.3)O, dolgo budu ja, v molchan'ji nochi tajnoj,Kovarnyj lepet tvoj, ulybku, vzor, vzor sluchajnyj,Perstam poslushnuju volos, volos tvojikh gustuju prjad',Iz myslej izgonjat', i snova prizyvat';Sheptat' i popravljat' bylyje

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Kever Rochel (Rachel's Tomb), Bethlehem, 1841 ."This is what the Lord says: Rachel...restrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for your work will be rewarded...there is hope for your future....your children will return to their own land." Jeremiah 31:15-17.Do you want to know someone? Heart, mind and soul? Ask them how they want to be remembered.Reading through Khaled Hosseini's

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Mosaic, Castel S.P. Terme, Verona, ItalyFrom all I've done and all I've saidlet them not seek to find who I've been.An obstacle stood and transformedmy acts and way of my life.An obstacle stood and stopped memany a time as I was going to speak.The surroundings of home, centers, neighorhoodwhich I see and where I walk; for years and years.My most unobserved acts,and my writings the most covered -

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Bataan War Memorial, Las Cruces, New Mexico, USADarl,We had received orders to stand back. The men in my group were used to bringing the fight to the enemy, and to take this passive stance made us no better than moving targets. The last few weeks during which we were under seige were long and rough, and the end of the day would bring dispatches that were not so encouraging.One evening my

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Laila MajnuMere khwaabon ke is gulistaan meinTumse hi to bahaar chhaai haiPhoolon mein rang mere the lekinIn mein khushboon tumhi se aaye haiAankhon mein hai baharein dil mein khizaKaise kahein kya hai sitamHum jo agar hain gumgheenFaasle hain phir bhi magarJaise milte nahi kisi dariya ke do kinaareKhilke bhi gul khilte nahiChhupa hai koi ranj fiza ki chilman meinPhool se khushboo khafa khafa hai

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Night was howling the air was heavyA grief with no name clouded my soulMy heart insisted you come and comfort itAnd I was trying—damn it!—to get it to sleepFor hours the shining stars pricked my eyesFor hours my mind burned with lonelinessYou didn’t come to see your forgotten friendYou didn’t come to me in that lonely nightBut then your voice suddenly swept inAs if a waterfall burst through the

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alleyway near the antiquarian bookshop where I scored a dela Serre breviarywhat is a journey?a journey is not a tripit's not a vacationit's a process of self discoverya journey brings us face to face with ourselvesa journey shows us not only the worldbut how we fit in itdoes the person create the journeyor does the journey create the person?from the LV campaign

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Dordogne in PerigordIf you wait for me then I'll come for you Although I've traveled far... You take me to a church terrace perched atop a limestone valley. We watch the Dordogne far below, wending its way with inexorable and disquieting patience towards the sea.“So tell me why you’ve brought me here.”You shrug and give me a solemn smile. “I’m waiting.”You would say no more after that. “ I didn

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La liseuse à la fenêtre, Jan Vermeer v. 1659. Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Gemäldegalerie, GermanyPour une femme à qui la vie a tout pris, le peu de temps que je passais avec lui était un petit miracle. Je voulu le lui dire, et bien d'autres choses encore, mais quand enfin je trouvai le courage de lui dire, je perdis la voix.On parlait peu au final, lui et moi. Cette sécheresse dans la voix, qui

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Pacific Coast Highway, San Francisco, CA Driving fast at sundown, past lights and brush with the windows rolled down. I don't feel the dry swelter of summer -- the air is cool and clear. Sometimes I get so high I feel almost drunk. It's nights like these where I want to drive to that lonely hillside on the edge of town, climb over the wire fence, go up the steepest incline and scream and dance

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Cape Comorin, Tamil Nadu, IndiaIt's an odd country, America. Everyone (here) seems so lonely. Including me.I did my best, it wasn't much, I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch...( ...there was discovery, a confusion of elements, a first snowfall of impossible change. Old lives undone, left behind, strange faces made familiar, new nightmares to challenge sleep... )Baby I've been here before, I

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