hands reveal
ash-streaked eyes
smudged and sullen
like an old cloth
worn thin
wiping up
sooty tears
bluE eye by StopPanicIsJustMe
Posted in Writing | Tagged creative writing, Poetry, Writing | Leave a Comment »
- RAWWWR by NickiStock on deviantART
My brother is an old-school kinda guy.
- He licks bones for a living. (Well, okay, he licks rocks to see if they’re bones; he’s an archaeologist.)
- His living room is shelved floor-to-ceiling with vinyl LPs.
- He hates Facebook and eschews all social media.
- He has a clam-shell flip phone that he’s used for a decade or more.
- He’d rather walk, head up, looking where he’s going than plod along, head down, letting his smartphone’s GPS tell him where he is.
My brother has a lot going for him.
And I think he’s on to something. Continue Reading »
Posted in Culture, Hi Tech, Low Tech | Tagged low-tech living, plugged in, quiet living, smartphone, social media, tech diet, unplugged | 5 Comments »
Yesterday, I started and then deleted no fewer than six posts. My mind was fragmented by circumstances and events, leaving me unable to concentrate on anything.
I started posts on the usefulness of writing conventions, on the reasons for using a pseudonym, on office “open” floorplans, on my reputation as an arrogant bastard, etc., etc. I tried repeatedly, but could not cohere my thoughts to a single subject long enough to form a reasonable discourse.
What was going on? Continue Reading »
Posted in Culture, Food | Tagged cooking, modern life, quiet living, Serenity | Leave a Comment »
What do a fork, a model of a ship, and a priest’s right eye have in common?
No, they’re not props from a horror movie.
They’re all objects discussed in Neil MacGregor’s book, Shakespeare’s Restless World: A Portrait of an Era in Twenty Objects.
As readers of this blog know, I have a bit of a fascination with Shakespeare, so this book is right in my wheelhouse. The subtitle gave me a general idea of what I was getting, but what I didn’t expect was such a fascinating overview of life in the late Elizabethan/early Jacobean periods.
Neil MacGregor, Director of the British Museum, takes a disparate collection of 16th century objects–ranging from the everyday to the unique–and gives us a chapter on each one. Naturally, he describes each object, its history, its use, and its provenance, but this is all expected content. The lavish photos of the objects themselves (as well as related items) are clear, detailed, and beautiful, but each chapter really shines when MacGregor expands the discussion beyond the basics, showing us the social context of each item. Through MacGregor’s clean, unhurried prose, we learn what each object might have meant to the average groundling in the pit or noble in the tiers. An apprentice’s cap, for instance, looks simply like a cap to us, but if you were one of the Queen’s subjects on the streets of London in 1600, it would tell you of the wearer’s social standing, might remind you of the apprentice-led riots over food prices. Later, when you went to The Rose or The Curtain to see Coriolanus, and saw the cap-wearing citizens berating Menenius over the high cost of corn, you would remember those riots, and know that things might get very ugly, very quickly.
The list of objects MacGregor has chosen is, as I mentioned, varied. He discusses a fork used to eat sweetmeats in the same detail and depth as he does the model ship used as a token, built in thanks by James I for his safe passage home from abroad. Each object is inspected both as a thing from within Shakespeare’s world–i.e., as relates to his plays and the world of the theater–as well as within his world at large. In reading this book, I learned a great deal about the lives and the mindsets of Shakespeare’s patrons, high-born and low, but also expanded my understanding of the period and its conflicts.
This book was of great interest to me, as you might expect, but I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone interested in history, the history of objects, and the tumultuous, change-filled period of late Elizabethan/early Jacobean England.
Oh, and that priest’s right eye?
Get the book.
k
Posted in Books | Tagged book review, british museum, elizabethan england, history, neil macgregor, Shakespeare | Leave a Comment »
Lippincott Editions of Furness’ Variorum
Claire Bloom once told me that if I was serious about Shakespeare and acting, I must read the Shakespearean variorum. Through the variorum, she said, I could delve into the language and gain better understanding of its history and deeper meaning.
I took this advice to heart, despite the fact that I’m not an actor.
And the fact that I didn’t know what a variorum was.
And the fact that she wasn’t actually talking to me, specifically.
Yes, on rare occasions I take things celebrities say rather more personally than they were intended, such as when Sir John Gielgud gave me advice on friendship. To put your mind at ease, when I do this, I do it in a completely non-“I see you when you’re not looking,” non-“unbalanced creepy stalker” type way.
Honest.
Trust me.
Anyway… Once Ms Bloom told me this, I immediately went in search of a “variorum,” whatever it was. Continue Reading »
Posted in Books | Tagged acting, Claire Bloom, John Gielgud, Reading, reading Shakespeare, Shakespeare, Shakespeare's Women, variorum | Leave a Comment »
There is nothing so infuriating to my liberal mind than FWPs–First World Problems–and this week I have been beset with them.
Why do I find them so infuriating? Because with each FWP, with each annoyance, with each disruption to my life and my regular routine, as I climb the mountain of frustration, as I reach the pinnacle, the apex of exasperation, I am also acutely aware of how lucky I am.
I know that, should I step away from the desk in my home office, take my iPad and a fresh cup of coffee out onto the deck and wirelessly tippy-tap my woes out into the social medium, my friends (who are also online) will rally to my side, nod sagaciously (albeit virtually), and say “There, there” in their myriad, understanding ways. I also know that my rant, were it to come before the eyes of someone outside my tiny, privileged world, someone who had real problems, it would be met with gaping incredulity.
- I have a connection to the internet.
- I have a handful of devices with which I can connect to the internet.
- I can connect to the internet wirelessly.
- I can connect from my home.
- I have a deck on which I can take a break from my job.
- I have a job I can do from my home.
- I have a job.
- I have a home.
- I have fresh coffee.
- I have water. In my home.
- I have food. In my home.
- I have a loving spouse.
- I am healthy.
So, as the top of my brain is screaming because the latest upgrade to Widget-Master 19 has completely destroyed my DirectAccess Connectivity Assistance Service, thus forcing me to lose two whole days’ worth of work as I re-install and re-configure everything on my workstation, as my inner Time Management Center goes ballistic because the weeds in the back garden are growing faster than I can find time to pull them, and as my personal I-Want-It-All-Now nodes are confounded by rain (no drives in the convertible), the rest of me, my deep-brain reality receptors, they know that it’s all hogwash; it’s all just silliness and maundering.
In short, I’ve got it good, and I’m going to shut up, now.
k
Posted in Culture | Tagged first world problems, gratitude, modern life, Serenity, simple living | 13 Comments »
I kneel in the dripping ivy. A trowel in one hand, my other is deep in the soil, searching for the dandelion’s root. The root twists and writhes beneath my fingers, wet and tough, unwilling.
The rain taps across my hat’s felted brim, caresses my steaming back with its cool touch. The spring day is cold, but my work keeps me warm.
The bite of woodsmoke reaches me. I lift my nose and scent the air. My breath comes out a mist.
I grimace as digits plunge farther down into the black loam. The earth envelopes my hand, its serenity infuses me, my worries leach away.
I am the root, now. I am the plant. I am the garden.
k
Posted in Gardening, Writing | Tagged creative writing, gardening, photo, Poetry, vignette, Writing, writing techniques | Leave a Comment »
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani 