There are all kinds of tunes about urban landscapes. A multitude of activities takes place within city landscapes. Everything is reflected in music in all genres.
Where would we be without some serious city angst?
Raining in Baltimore ~ The Counting Crows, August and Everything After <<– A most excellent album with nary a ‘miss’ among any of its songs. Well worth listening to en toto.
&
Anyone in the market for some higher education history? Universities and colleges are small cities within cities and towns. Hence, the inclusion of Ohio.
In Kent, Ohio, Non-violent students encountered the National Guard’s fully loaded guns.
Ohio [Kent, Ohio location of Kent State University] ~ written by Neil Young, performed Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
The shootings led to protests on college campuses throughout the United States, and a student strike, causing more than 450 campuses across the country to close with both violent and non-violent demonstrations.[9] A common sentiment was expressed by students at New York University with a banner hung out of a window which read, “They Can’t Kill Us All.”[37] On May 8, eleven people were bayonetted at the University of New Mexico by the New Mexico National Guard in a confrontation with student protesters.[38] Also on May 8, an antiwar protest at New York’s Federal Hall held at least partly in reaction to the Kent State killings was met with a counter-rally of pro-Nixon construction workers (organized by Peter J. Brennan, later appointed U.S. Labor Secretary by President Nixon), resulting in the “Hard Hat Riot“.
&
Samba de Janeiro ~ Bellini —-Dancing in the streets aka it’s time for a flash mobbing to work out some stress. Yes, you too can dance at your pc. How can you resist?
Water Unifies us All. On March 22nd, Join the world in the Synchronized Global Water Ceremony. At 3:00pm in your local time and 3:00pm pacific. UNIFYing with the world to restore our relationship with this sacred medium of life.
No Water, No Life. Know Water, Know Life.
UNIFY.org is a platform create to support the emergence of the Spiritual Renaissance happening on the planet.
LoveWater is a year long campaign that will transform our specie’s relationship to water in every way possible.
Join us as we catalyze a global movement of beauty, love and truth.
Thanks to the Black Hills Clean Water Alliance of South Dakota for bringing this event to my attention. The Clean Water Alliance continues to fight the Powertech Uranium Mining Company in South Dakota –> http://www.sdcleanwateralliance.org/
The “Final” Supplemental Environmental Impact Statement (SEIS) issued by the federal Nuclear Regulatory Commission for the proposed Dewey-Burdock uranium mine is substantially deficient. The mine, proposed by Chinese/Canadian company Powertech Uranium, would use 9,000 gallons per minute of groundwater from Black Hills aquifers, contaminate area water, and open the door for eight other uranium companies that have an interest in the Black Hills.
A Blank Hills Clean Water Alliance Press Release warns that the NRC has put the cart before the horse – they have published a “Final” SEIS – and chosen a final alternative for project design – before they have completed the cultural resources analysis. This analysis is required by law to be completed before this document was issued. The SEIS notes that the analysis is “ongoing.” This relegates the cultural studies to afterthoughts, and necessarily limits NRC’s ability to protect these important resources.
The NRC is accepting public comment on the Final SEIS in the form of limited appearance statements. You can make your voice heard – click here to learn how.
“I believe that music is magic, and everybody needs it. That’s why I give mine away.” Cassie Blanton => http://www.carsieblanton.com/
~~Jazz is for everybody~~ [Visit Carsie’s site to hear more.]
I’m Carsie Blanton. I write songs. I believe there’s a worldwide epidemic of indirectness, and I aim to remedy it.
Love is hard. Sex is fun. Life is messy. We’re all going to die. Our hearts are idiots, our wills are weak, we’re bumbling around fucking the wrong people and falling in love for the wrong reasons and pretending like we have all the time in the world to figure it out. My aim is to write songs that make you stop pretending, even if only for an instant. I want to wake you up to your brief, idiotic, miraculous life.
~~~
Carsie Blanton opening for Cassie Blanton–of course. She’s currently featured on the sidebar directly to the <=< left in the top seven music slots, Helen of Troy to Backbone with sweet things in between.
Carsie Blanton blogs about love, sex and music at http://brighterthanabuoy.blogspot.com/ Chat her up, if you dare. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge…go ahead. Catch a tune there.
~
Under the weather –as in out of commission and snow plowed not coming down this street any time soon, plus, oops that was not such a good idea to eat mystery meal. Yeah, I’m shoveling my way out of bed and out of the drive with nowhere to go but snow time. Hey folks, I’m getting back here slowly but surely. As long as saying so doesn’t jinx that. Until then, grin, dance and sang with Carsie Blanton. I’m tattoo curious as to which of her music videos on the sidebar trips your traps. Yeah, indeed I am. 🙂
“Hey, Sarge.” Lily leaned against the fridge wondering how to tell him he was welcome to stay without it coming across as if she was expecting a great deal more than either of them was ready for at the moment. She asked herself just what exactly she was really ready for, but before she could reply to herself, Sarge was in the kitchen holding a large round hot pink Tupperware container and grinning like a little kid who’d just found the best prize ever inside a box of cracker jack.
“Guess what this is, Lily.” He repeatedly flipped the container over and over showing his complete confidence in its ability to remain fully sealed while in motion.
Lily looked at his happy-as-all-get-out-hazel eyes and sighed. She grabbed hold of the container to stop its motion and peered at the milky white bowl. “Hmm. Looks like lo mein noodles.” She looked closer. “Is that shrimp I see? Open it! Open it!” Sarge set the container on the table and obliged her. Lily leaned in close and sniffed. “Oh hot damn, Sarge. Is this Mrs. Ling’s Szechuan shrimp lo mein?!”
“Indeed it is, Lily. Guess what’s for dinner, unless you were planning on poaching some eggs, of course.” He winked at her, stood with his hands behind his back, rocking from one foot to the other clearly excited with having brought this delicious dish home.
Lily shook her head hard enough to send her hair flying. “No. Oh no. Mrs. Ling’s Szechuan shrimp trumps everything including eggs. How did you get this?”
“Unscheduled basement flood emergency complete with blown fuse box. Yeah. It was worth wading around in that damn cold water for this.” He held up the Tupperware lid. “And this too: her coconut cookie recipe. Is this a major score or what, Lily?”
Lily took the lid from him and read the recipe. “O yeah, you scored big time, Sarge. No one makes better coconut cookies than Mrs. Ling. I’ve never had any better even in that fancy bakery in M- or anywhere else for that matter. Wow.”
Sarge sniffed the air. “Is that dinner I smell?”
“Yes, I think dinner is set. You hungry?”
“Starving. If you’ll warm it up, I’ll get cleaned up. “
“Go! Go! Go! Hurry up! I’m dying for some spicy shrimp.”
Walking backwards towards the bathroom, he said, “You have chopsticks, right? Eating lo mein with forks is just plain wrong in my book.”
“Do you really have to ask?” Lily laughed as she pulled out a pan for gently warming up the shrimp lo mein.
Five minutes later they were spearing shrimp and twirling noodles and playing with their food on the way to their mouths. “Is everything Mrs. Ling makes this good?”
Lily nodded. “Everything she’s brought to a potluck has always been good, but this and the coconut cookies are her best as far as my taste buds are concerned. I think she’s got some secret with the shrimp. Anton has been trying to figure it out, but so far he can’t pin it down. Mrs. Ling likes having her food mysteries, so she’s not saying.”
“When I tried this at that first potluck, I couldn’t get enough. It disappeared really fast too. Oh hell this is so good.” Sarge ate a shrimp and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, she’s doing something with these little beasties all her own. I wonder what else needs fixing in that building.”
Lily laughed and pointed at the list on the fridge. “It’ll be interesting to see what other top choice meal deals you bring home as you work through those repairs requests.”
“Mmm. I wonder if I could work out some regular meal trades for bread. What do you think?”
Lily stuffed a bunch of lo mein into her mouth and nodded as she chewed. “Worth a try. Everyone seems to like one kind of bread or another.” She speared a shrimp and offered it to him. Sarge promptly accepted it. “Yeah, bread deals for sczechy shrimpies, oh Gloria’s pierogies, maybe some of Harold’s buffalo sausages. Hmm. O yeah, Sarge, there are plenty of primo meal choices around the Flats for trading bread.”
“Mrs. Ranoli’s turkey cherry lasagna.”
“O yeah.” Lily laughed and they both dug into their bowls. She looked over at the list on the fridge again then back at the man enjoying his shrimp lo mien score.
Sarge caught her eye action and leaned back in his chair. He waited to speak until he’d swallowed and had a sip of tea. “What’s on your mind, Lily? Hmm?”
She sucked on the ends of her chopsticks for a moment and looked at the list then back at Sarge. With a little shrug she said, “There’s a lot of work on that list of yours. More on the main one that you’ve written your name by. That one on the fridge alone must be about thirty hours of full-time work all by itself.”
Sarge looked at the list and nodded. “Yeah, more or less depending on what I find when I actually get into seeing what’s messed up. A lot of that needs some serious attention as soon as possible. That’s why I took them. If there’s something electrical I can’t handle then Ricardo probably can. Anything like that at least I’ll save him the time and trouble of finding the problems.”
Lily set her chopsticks across the top of her bowl then pushed her hair behind her ears and mentally jumped. “Sounds like a good working plan. But how are you going to do all that and work full-time dock hours too?”
“I have that worked out with Oscar already. Starting from whenever he can open up the docks for freight as usual I’m taking two weeks vacation. That should let me get through the really bad stuff and anything else that decides to blow in that time.” Sarge suddenly realized he hadn’t discussed any of this with Lily. “Um, that is if it’s okay with you that I’m still hanging around here, of course.” He held his breath while watching her intently and bracing for negative impact verbally and/or physically for his oversight.
Lightly tapping her fingertips on the sides of her bowl she nodded. “Yes, it’s okay with me, as long as you still want to be hanging around here. That vacation time plan sounds good. Though it’s not much of a vacation for you, is it? Not exactly a trip to the Caribbean to get away from the snow and cold for a fun time.” Lily watched for any reaction from him regarding the indirect reference to the travel receipt in his coat pocket. He offered none that she could discern via direct observation nor her home people vibes and a certain small tight knot eased in her stomach.
“Oh I beg to differ, Lily. I’m having great fun with the whole shebang.” Unconsciously he lowered his head enough so that he was looking at her through the hair covering his eyes like a sheepdog who thought he’d narrowly escaped permanent banishment from its chosen human’s company forever. “Nasty garbarge disposal tricks aside, of course. But even those have their upsides, like baths and Lily swirlies.”
“Are you really enjoying everything, Sarge?” she said softly while glancing down into her bowl then at him then into the bowl again. “Even pushy Lily swirlies?”
Realizing she was talking about more than the work concerning the repair list, Sarge leaned slightly forward over the table. Wondering if a solid chance with Lily was now coming his way, he said, “Yes, I really am, Lily. I’m having a great time with you here in the Flats.” Seeing her sharp cheekbones suddenly flush brightly, he pushed his hair away from his eyes to keep from reaching out and touching her red streaked cheeks and said softly, “Lily, I don’t want any of it to stop: not the sharing breakfasts; not the dancing with you; not the bread baking; not the crazy repair work or minding Marianna on a tough day.”
Lily nervously twisted her fingers in her hair and smiled. “That’s good, because I’ve been having a great time having you here with me in the Flats. I don’t want any of it to stop either, Sarge.” She glanced at the list on the fridge again. “Since everything is working for both of us, then it doesn’t seem to make any sense to change things that don’t need changing, at least not to me.”
“Not to me either.” Hoping she couldn’t hear how hard his heart was pounding as he waited for her to share the rest of her thoughts, Sarge moved his hands under the table and tightly gripped his knees. “This is your home so it’s entirely your call when I stay or go.”
“You’re very welcome to keep staying here as long as we’re both agreeing with each other.” She shrugged a little and listened to her home people vibes murmuring softly. “Or whatever combination of here and your place makes sense when your vacation is over.”
“Okay, thanks, that sounds good to me.” Feeling awkward in spite of their mutual agreement, Sarge tried to find a way to create a more concrete and literal balance in the scenario. “My place isn’t nearly as . . . comfortable . . as yours. But it is a lot closer to the college. Maybe it could be useful to you somehow. There’s plenty of room for a study space all your own. Usually it’s pretty damn quiet too, even when Kozy is working on something downstairs. He won’t mind at all if you wolf howl your lungs out. Might rattle some of the guys on the docks, but hey, it would give them something different to talk about.” Sarge thought for a moment, searching for something else to offer her very practical sensibilities, he added, “There’s a bus stop close by for the long route that goes from the west end of Falls direct to M- and back. It’s easy to make a transfer connection to and from the Flats in several places.”
Understanding the balance Sarge was trying to create with the sharing of their individual spaces that he was offering her, Lily hummed with internal excitement while managing to respond calmly with quickly growing real interest. “Your place is near a bus stop for the long West-East route on the south side? That is very handy.” She tried, and uncharacteristically failed, to pin-point the stop location-based on her knowledge of the city bus system.
Encouraged by her tone and the gleam of genuine interest in her black eyes, Sarge did what he’d never dared to do in the five years he’d lived in the freight district on the second floor of Walter Kozy’s warehouse, he invited another person, this particular woman, directly into what amounted to as his personally sacred for its highly prized privacy, living space. “When the bus routes are back on track, how about we take a ride to the freight district so you can have a look around my place? We could brainstorm some other ideas. Let’s see what works for both of us.”
Feeling suddenly oddly shy and disconcerted about this development regarding sharing his living space, Lily’s voice was hardly above a whisper when she said, “I’d like that. It’ll be like figuring out how to pool our resources with our different locations in the city.”
“Exactly.” Trying to contain his own nervous excitement, Sarge took a deep breath. “We can work things out as we go along. Switch it up until we find out what suits us both.” He waited for her to make eye contact again. “I’m game for keeping things working for both of us, if you are, Lily.”
“I am too. I’m in, Sarge.” She partly hid her smile with her hand for a few moments while quickly considering the doors that had unexpectedly opened between them. “I guess that’s settled then.”
Picking up on the fact that her voice had become quiet and soft and correctly interpreting it as an indicator of her excited yet very nervous state of mind regarding the content of their conversation and its implications for each of them, Sarge tried to put her, and himself, at ease before one or both of them began back pedaling for any number of rational reasons. “If you say it’s settled, Lily, then it is as far as I’m concerned. I meant what I said about it all working for me. Truly it is. If something isn’t working for you, just say the word and I’ll do my best to set it right.”
“Same here, Sarge. Two way street.” She walked the fingers of each hand in opposite directions towards and past each other across the table.
Sarge watched her finger action and laughed. “A two way street, eh? Do we need a stop sign or a traffic light for getting from one side to the other? I doubt either would stop you from jaywalking at will.”
Feigning innocence, Lily pointed at herself. “Me jaywalking? Never. Ah ha. You’re a very funny man, Sarge.” She pointed to the teapot nearer him for a refill of her cup.
“Apparently I have my moments according to your sense of humor.” He grinned while pouring more tea into her cup and then his own and caught sight of Mrs. Ling’s cookie recipe. “Do you think Rosa has any coconut stashed somewhere so we can try out these cookies tonight?”
“Probably. But we don’t need hers, not yet anyway, when we’ve got coconut aplenty right here, Sarge.” She pointed backwards towards the storage cabinets.
Sarge glanced at the cabinet then at the recipe. “What are we waiting for then, Lily? Let’s make some cookies.”
She got up, opened a cabinet, pulled out a large bag of shredded coconut and tossed it to him. “How about some Benny Goodman on the side? That work for you?”
“That definitely works for me, Lily.” He watched her leave the kitchen for the record player in the bookroom. When she was out of his sight, he stood up and spun around on the balls of his feet in a quick silent celebration of their agreement to continue living together and working on their evolving relationship. Hearing static from the other room signifying the record player was now in action, Sarge froze with the realization that at this point in time he was already far beyond netting his former goal of getting to see Lily for a third or fourth time. He’d passed that goal weeks ago after the snow had first begun falling in earnest. Music came from the bookroom, but Sarge paid it no mind as Lily sauntered back into the kitchen with a preoccupied little smile on her lips. Catching his more than slightly stunned facial expression, she cocked her head to one side and came to a halt in front of him.
“You look like you’ve been hit with a dozen snowballs all at once, Sarge. What’s the matter? Shrimp lo mein, coconut cookies, Benny, and Lily more than you can handle at one time?”
Sarge looked down at the black eyes shining up at him and gave her a wicked grin. “Careful, Missy, or you’ll find out real fast just how much I can handle all at one time.”
“Ooooo that sounds like a dare.” Lily grabbed the bag of coconut from the table and tossed it at him then followed it up with the empty Tupperware container. She was reaching for the cookie tin when he gently stayed her hand with his. Lily turned towards him and he quickly stole a light brush of a kiss on the lips then shyly backed away like a skittish deer retreating from the bright lights on a road at night. Tempted as she was to hedge him in between the kitchen window, table and sink counter with a chair to stand on in order to soundly return the favor of his affection, she paid heed to the sudden warning turn of her home people vibes and refrained from taking such an approach. Instead she smiled and blew him a kiss. “I like you too, Funny Man.” She winked and began dancing to the music while gathering the ingredients for Mrs. Ling’s cookies. A moment later he joined her efforts.
Lily smiled to herself happy in knowing that she’d read him well enough that, in spite of his verbal daring and spontaneous kiss theft, he clearly couldn’t handle more at the moment. Backing off from physically returning the kiss and letting him return from his retreat on his own was plainly the right plan of action as his quick, unhesitant jump into the cookie making preparations signified. As they moved into sync for baking and dancing, her home people vibes humming along with the music, she felt him edge a little closer physically like a wary stray cat getting comfortable with the notion of proximity to a human setting out clean water and food for it. Treating him as if he were indeed such a cat, she kept to the program with which they were both familiar and comfortable and refrained from making any sudden movements of her own, tempting as that was considering their new mutual agreement to keep doing what was working for both of them, namely living together, and expanding their domain by venturing into his living space on the other side of the city.
As she gradually added coconut to the dough Sarge was steadily mixing with a wooden spoon, Lily reflected on the information he’d shared piecemeal about his home on the second floor of the warehouse in the freight district. The main thing that came to mind was a sense of it being far enough off the city’s well beaten paths to offer privacy and peace, trains aside, yet close enough for easy access with some foresight regarding public transportation schedules. She considered the comparative lack of both privacy and peace here in the Flats and gave him credit for adapting as well he had without complaint to the local environment. Having done more than her fair share of adapting, which seemed never-ending for her, she knew how the stress of it could manifest in unexpected ways. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if that alone was responsible for his starts and stops when it came to physical closeness when they weren’t dancing or sharing a task. She factored in the intense and focused way he read, as if his mental space was his most prized possession, and thought she had a fairly good explanation for his behavior. If they ventured into deeper emotional and physical waters now, and if they had a falling out, his as well as her options for literal private physical escape from the situation in the current context were practically nil. He might sleep in the front room occupied by the back-up generator and Ricardo’s in-home warehouse of food and other supplies deemed necessary for survival in the winter months in this climate, but it was no place for him or anyone else to spend their days waiting for the city to return to enough normalcy to enable a return home. The ready rooms over at “sun rise” didn’t offer any better solution all things people context considered.
Unconsciously they leaned into and against each other while together carefully reading Mrs. Ling’s surprisingly fluent English translation of the instructions for the next steps in the recipe. After placing the cookie dough in the fridge then setting the timer, they gave their full attention to the music and put the waiting time to good use dancing.
Lily gave herself up to the music Priest had shared with her in an effort to create for her a potential social bridge into another culture. Gran and her aging friends had joined in the music and dance efforts in order to encourage Lily and to get some sense of what Priest was trying to convey to her granddaughter. Now her home people vibes hummed with glee as Sarge, who held nothing back as a dance partner, twirled, whirled and spun her around the apartment as if this was the very best thing in the world to be doing right here and now.
Only after the coconut cookies had been baked and deemed satisfactory for first efforts with a new recipe, after they’d cleaned the kitchen, after they’d danced to the last song on the record and Sarge laid claim to the bathroom for a shower while Lily sprawled over the red velvet couch enjoying the view of the winter sky, only then did either of them take more than a moment to pause in order to reflect on their conversation over Mrs. Ling’s shrimp lo mien.
Lily stood at the gas stove waiting for the water to boil for tea. Outside the kitchen window the sky was grey but cloud and snow free as it had been for the last two days. Listening to the local radio report that several main transportation routes were now open and nearly a third of the mainline buses were running somewhat regularly through and in Falls, she wondered how long it would be before Sarge took his leave of her and the Flats and returned to his home in the freight district. Sooner or later there’d be trucks arriving at the freight docks and, as she understood his description of the location, his place on the second floor of a converted warehouse was only a five-minute walk from work. The college was reopening in three days for daytime classes. Her own regular daily schedule would soon resume. Life in Falls was on the verge of returning to its usual urban ebb and flow after several weeks of extreme weather conditions and a number of events involving fatalities as a result. Lily was not looking forward to a return to the usual scheme of things in Falls, the Flats or most especially in her private life. Having never been other than completely candid with herself, she didn’t have any problems figuring out why. The reason was as direct and unpretentious as the man she didn’t want disappearing from her apartment and daily life. When Sarge departed for his home in the freight district, there would be no more dancing at all hours of the day and night; no more off the cuff conversations about books and personal mysteries; no more Funny Man spreading around home people land scents everywhere he went because he liked them; and a host of all the other no mores of things that were currently a direct result of his presence in her personal space; including the fact that there would be no more human heater quietly warming up the space between the down quilt and flannel cotton sheets night after night, a something which made her home people vibes happily hum with contentment.
Being well attuned to her inner self, Lily knew her emotions concerning Sarge had come a long way from unexpectedly enjoying his company at the theatre and hoping he’d feel the same enough to want to meet again. She’d taken a giant leap forward simply as a result of his behavior regarding the taxi cab and everything up to and including sharing her down quilt. Sarge presuming nothing and making no demands upon her person had gone a long way with her from the start. Living in close quarters for the last few weeks a relationship had developed to a degree between them that Lily knew from past experiences under normal circumstance would have required at least six months of concentrated effort on her part to build. She was also painfully aware of the reasons for the failures of her previous serious relationships, even if they didn’t all quite make sense to her. Personal incompatibilities were one thing, cultural incompatibilities were another and double standard gender behavior expectations yet another; all, with a few unpleasant surprise of other sorts, had quite effectively motivated her to call a halt to engaging in any relationship for nearly two years until she got a firmer handle on the cultural mentalities at play in what for her was a very serious hunt for a suitable life partner. In her own culture she’d have been settled with a mate years ago. With good health and a little luck, she’d have been a mother at least twice by her current age. She’d known this entire field of the life game had changed for her prior to even arriving in Falls. Awareness of the change had been a large factor in agreeing to travel this path into unknown geographical and cultural landscapes. Quite simply, there was no one of a suitable age remaining for a life partner even by sheer default. Her choices had seemed clear enough at the time: remain with her rapidly dwindling cultural group until they all passed on or venture into another world and take her chances making a life for herself with the option of finding someone suitable to share it with. She’d chosen this adventure after playing with the numbers of probability in her head for several days. Afterwards she’d simply said to Priest and Gran that she thought it would be fun looking for a needle in a haystack, even though she had no idea whatsoever what a haystack really was. But she was well acquainted with several bone and metal needles and thought that finding one ought to be easy enough even in a very messy place with some patience and persistence. Since then she’d learned about real haystacks, a few things about men, and women, in this culture and a great deal about herself while keeping her senses on red alert for what had become a very elusive needle indeed.
Though she’d not admitted or discussed with Rosa or Esther, her two closest friends, anything regarding her still evolving emotions concerning the man keeping her company in her apartment, and very little regarding her personal views of him, she’d been keeping up a steady discourse with herself and her home people vibes all along. A few times she’d given serious consideration to discussing Sarge with Anton, but she’d decided against that knowing full well just close he was with Esther and that the only way to keep him from sharing something with his wife was to either not tell him the information at all, or to have it be something he considered so negative that he’d not want to share it of his own accord in order to not upset Esther unless it was absolutely necessary to do so. In addition, there was the matter of his current notions of proper masculine behavior that had inadvertently created issues for her with other men while trying to be helpful. Though in hindsight, those issues had probably kept her from wasting more time and effort on the wrong men.
Lily sighed, glanced at the repair request list and poked her home people vibes into stirring. Gran, I’m way past liking his smile. I’m to the point of knowing I’ll miss not seeing it when he’s not around. For starters, I feel good knowing he’s coming back here after he goes off to fix something for someone in the Flats and that he’ll be here when I come back from doing something of my own. I’m not sure exactly how he’d deal with caribou, but he’s good at keeping the water, heat and electricity running here. That counts for a lot in this crazy place. He gets along with Rosa’s kids, even Marianna. You know what a terror she can be. He likes being around them. I don’t have to explain to you why that’s a big relief. I sure wish I’d asked Priest a lot more questions about guys from where he came from. But, Priest being Priest that might not have been much use where I am now. This one though, I can almost talk with him like I could talk with Priest. He’s curious and smart in ways Priest would understand better than you because of the books. There’s not much point in talking about having fun with him, we both know having fun with these guys doesn’t always mean what we think it does. So far though, he hasn’t tried to push me in a corner because of it. Not once. I don’t want to jump to any conclusions about that yet though.
There’s something about him though that gets women’s attention. It’s something like the attraction John has as a musician. With Sarge though, it’s something else. Obviously, because he’s not a musician, at least not as far as I know. But there’s something I can’t put into words yet. No, it’s not like me being attracted to him. If it was, I’d understand it already. Esther has noticed it too. It makes her watch him with her hard eyes when there’s a potluck and lots of people around. I think she’s waiting for him to do something. Whatever it is, he hasn’t done it yet. I know she’d tell me right off if he had. It’s as if she’s holding her breath. She likes him. I know she does by the way she talks with him. That’s a good sign. Esther doesn’t like everyone. She’ll be very polite to people she doesn’t like and they’ll never know she doesn’t like them unless she says so to their face. I’m sure she’s not doing that with Sarge. I’ve tried to get her to talk about it, but her eyes go hard then and she shakes her head and won’t say what’s on her mind. Rosa just says it’s not what the women do to try to get his attention that’s important, it’s what he’s not doing in return that matters. As long as he’s “not chasing the tails” as she says, there’s not a problem. My best guess at this point is that this has to do with their notions about sex in some way. That might be my ideas and theirs about that little book influencing my thoughts though.
Rosa and I have gone through the copy she made of it a couple more times. Now I know the handwriting isn’t his. Anton says the book isn’t Sarge’s and I believe him. Anton knows lying would hurt me more than whatever the truth is about why he has that book with all those women’s names and numbers in it. Oh yeah, he and Anton seem to be becoming good friends. That’s a first. I mean they actually spend time together talking about books and ideas even when they’re not working on someone’s house or doing something else with the rest of the Watch guys. We’ve had a couple of good conversations as a group with Esther joining in too. Priest would consider this a good sign, I think.
I should tell you, Gran, that not too many people manage to get past what Anton calls his “ghost life” in order to feel really comfortable with him. I think that’s because they can sense he is dangerous if he’s provoked and they don’t want to take a chance on provoking him. Sarge isn’t afraid of Anton. I can see Anton likes that he isn’t. Hmm. Yes, it’s clear to me that Sarge isn’t afraid because he is a dangerous man too. It’s like them each being dangerous cancels out either of them being scared of the other. It’s odd thinking of Sarge as being dangerous though. He never behaves in ways that bring it to my attention or anyone else’s for that matter. When he’s with the Watch guys he doesn’t act threatening or intimidating like many of the street guys do. He doesn’t seem to have anything to prove in that way. Maybe it’s because he’s already proved it with other men and the others know this somehow? I wonder if they can smell it? Can I smell it? Hmm. Yes, I think I do, Gran. Oh, I understand what you mean. I can be dangerous too. Yes, I can. It’s like this, Gran, Sarge reminds me of a polar bear who knows exactly how big and strong he is and that he won’t ever go hungry because he’s hunted seals so many times he’s got absolute confidence in his ability to get one whenever he wants to eat. I know, I know, men and bears are not the same creatures. Like I said, I sure wish I’d grilled Priest about guys.
Where does that put things? That’s exactly what I’m wondering. I don’t want him to go, but I don’t know if he wants to stay. I mean, I don’t know if he’d want to stay for the same reasons I don’t want him to leave. For all I know for sure, he’s just into fixing things, like Ricardo. He never says no to anyone who asks for his help. Lily stared at the list. You’re right I’ve got to say more than simply drop vague hints in order to find out what he’s thinking. Let’s take a look at this list of his and see what comes to mind. Feel free to help out.
The water boiled. Lily spooned loose orange blossom tea into the teapot then filled it with the water. While it steeped she walked over to the fridge and read the list of home repair requests that Sarge had prioritized as his own from the main list over in the Info Hub. Based on what she’d learned about how he worked on his own, she calculated that there was a good solid week’s worth of work on this list alone with plenty more on the main list. She stood tapping her fingers on the paper and wondering how he intended to do all this work and return to his full-time job at the docks at about the same time. Is he planning on not doing anything else but working constantly with a few hours sleep thrown in whenever possible between night shifts on the freight docks and day shifts making house repairs in the Flats? Why on earth would he do that? Or, maybe he isn’t planning on leaving as completely as I thought he would? Maybe he plans on sticking around at least long enough to work his way through the list? As if on cue, the apartment door opened and Sarge came through it with a wave and a very happy to find her at home smile greeting before sitting down and removing his boots out of her sight. “Hi, Lily.”
I can film veg with the best of them when so inclined to be disinclined to venture forth into winter nights and days. With complete honesty I rationalize and justify what others call wasting time with the verified claim that film vegging is a tried and true form of relaxation, stress relief and internal down time for more than a few people. Marathon movie viewing can be a very effective detox tool after excessive interaction with the insanity of this wonky world. Some people go out and hang themselves out to dry with hard-drinking and drugs after a long hard work haul. Not everyone finds that appealing. Some of us prefer not to kill our brain cells in order to shed the world’s toxic waste. Why waste time dying when there is the artistry of films for getting through the messiness of living? With the right mix of movies and music you can clear out a great deal of negative energy. With the wrong mix the negative flow can create a drowning river of doom and gloom. Anyone who has engaged in movie marathon viewing knows exactly what I’m talking about. Oh and by marathon we don’t mean three or four films. I’m talking about that close as your body will allow full press twenty-four film flowing for one, two , three days with not much more done than engagement with the small or large screen. Well, this has not been a marathon, just a warming up. Yeah, I think a marathon is marching onto my horizon. Contemplating kicking it off with all of Fireflyleading to Serenity and then . . . well, this menu has not been fully planned just yet. I’m open to suggestions. Bring your BEST film recommendations. What are your “Go To” films?
The seeds for this marathon were sown by chance over the weekend by brand new and old films. The positive and negative elements have made for a disconcerting mix.
*
Awakenis available for free viewing on Hulu. It’s a very interesting treatment of getting beyond time, space, and place in order to connect with what’s truly important. Alex and Rachel may be some of the most intuitive and spiritual personages in a film set in the main stream culture against the background of a coffee-shop. This is one of those rare films during which it can be hard not to smile, smile, smile even through the story’s sad shadows. It’s a love story that defies the usual boundaries and presents a certain hopeful version of what’s possible when we awaken to a world of possibilities. Oh, and it’s full of hope and love.
This 1961 film crossed my path by pure accident while I was channel surfing at night. Burt Lancaster popped up on the small screen in a scene I’d never seen before, so I stopped long enough to try to identify the film and got hooked. It didn’t hurt that there were fewer and shorter commercial breaks than Hulu inserts into films online. The black and white film is a treat for those of us who are visual addicts. The acting is quite good. The topic and script are unsettling, disturbing and very relevant to contemporary issues. I’m not yet aware of where you can find this film in full online. The treatment of the gang mentality and racism provides a great deal of raw meat for discussion. What perhaps most disturbed me was the treatment of the Puerto Rican women, especially the slain boy’s sister. Though this film raises the topic of women turning to prostitution in order to support their family, the manner in which it is employed in the film’s courtroom context raises a host of other issues. As no trailer was on the tubes I selected this video, in part for its textual commentary.
The Young Savages
Joe Barry [Note: JB has provided some intriguing notes on YouTube regarding this film. the comments for this video may also be of some interest.]
Tomorrow is Forever came on directly after The Young Savages. The 1946 treat of another black and white film reeled me in as much as Orson Welles and Claudette Colbert. That’s a lot of good stuff right? This is story of love lost and other love found. But it’s also a film about dishonesty, lies and deception–all done with the best of intentions. Yeah, let’s skip and trip our way to hell directly. I could argue that the closing scene reflects that with notion with the partly burned letter resting on the hearth in front of the fireplace. I’m sure plenty of people would agree with John’s choices, but I refuse to buy that all for your own good bullshit. Usually that comes back to bite someone in the ass when they least expect it–and gangrene often sets in. Oh yeah, let’s all go to war and send our sons there too. Even after we pay some damn high prices. That gleefully willing idealistic cannon fodder theme does NOT work for me, but it might for others. Still, it’s worth viewing if you can find it.
I found Sweet Land, 2005, thanks to Bear sharing clips of music and a delightful pie eating scene. It’s a lovely love story about a German mail order bride, Elizabeth Reaser, coming to Norwegian community in America in 1920. It deals with the ethnic bigotry that has nothing to do with the color of a person’s skin but with politics, language, religion and culture. Oh my, if you don’t speak English–but German, Irish, Polish or Italian you can get in big trouble in the wrong places–even if you’re a beautiful young woman willing to work hard. This is a quiet powder keg of a film which subtly takes on serious issues about human nature, greed, intolerance, values and how “business and farming don’t mix.” Olaf, Tim Guinee, is a man with a certain depth, integrity, and strength seldom found in modern fellows. He doesn’t say much, buy when he does, it counts big time. The tenacity and determination of the couple, Olaf and Inge, as they bring in a harvest by hand and by themselves when they defy the dictates of the local priest and continue living and working the sweet land together offers lessons in transcendence and living in a state of grace. You can find the film in full on YouTube.
Okay, I saw this via a small group outing. Plenty of great scenery, lots of action and lots of leading up to the third part of the trilogy. Smaug is a great dragon. It’s not a great film, but it delivers enough to satisfy fans awaiting the final part.
The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
~
Ed Sheeran’s I See Fireaccompanies the closing credits of The Hobbitand crediting Sheeran is presented up front. I don’t see how this could hurt Sheeran’s musical ambitions. His own songs are solid. His covers of others’ songs, such as Dylan’s Masters of War reveal the strength of his ability to breath new life into the creative work of others and make it distinctly his own. So hats off to Peter Jackson for giving this young fellow a global spotlight. I hope to hear more and more of Sheeran over the long haul. It’s easy to find Sheeran’s music live and via album’s on YouTube.
So, what would your movie marathon menu line consist of if you were settling in for long weekend, or week, of round the clock films? Yeah, I really want to know because I’m gearing up and I’m hunting fresh film food for simmering in my brain-pan. Indie and foreign films are very welcome to this film feasting. Quirky is generally good. Fun is good. Thoughtful and insightful is very good. Action is not snubbed as long as it’s not mindless.
Arn – The Knight Templar (Swedish: Arn – Tempelriddaren) is a 2007 epic film based on Jan Guillou‘s trilogy about the fictional SwedishKnight TemplarArn Magnusson. The film was released in December 2007 and the sequel, Arn – The Kingdom at Road’s End (Arn – Riket vid vägens slut), was released August 22, 2008, but both films were combined into a single cut for the English release on DVD in 2010. While the film is mostly in Swedish and most of the production was made in Sweden, the film is a joint production between Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland and Germany
*
Shakespeare’s play plays again and again and again.
Wikipedia online source:
Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy written early in the career of William Shakespeare about two young star-crossed lovers whose deaths ultimately reconcile their feuding families. It was among Shakespeare’s most popular plays during his lifetime and, along with Hamlet, is one of his most frequently performed plays. Today, the title characters are regarded as archetypal young lovers.
Romeo and Juliet belongs to a tradition of tragic romances stretching back to antiquity. Its plot is based on an Italian tale, translated into verse as The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet by Arthur Brooke in 1562 and retold in prose in Palace of Pleasure by William Painter in 1567. Shakespeare borrowed heavily from both but, to expand the plot, developed supporting characters, particularly Mercutio and Paris. Believed to have been written between 1591 and 1595, the play was first published in a quarto version in 1597.
And there is oodles more info everywhere. Suffice to say, Shakespeare wrote for the performance marketplace and aimed to pleasure money from the highest to the lowest pockets. Imagine the royalties he could be collecting if he were still alive and playing.
Deirdre was the daughter of the royal storyteller Fedlimid mac Daill. Before she was born, Cathbad the chief druid at the court of Conchobar mac Nessa, king of Ulster, prophesied that Fedlimid’s daughter would grow up to be very beautiful, but that kings and lords would go to war over her, much blood would be shed because of her, and Ulster’s three greatest warriors would be forced into exile for her sake. Hearing this, many urged Fedlimid to kill the baby at birth, but Conchobar, aroused by the description of her future beauty, decided to keep the child for himself. He took Deirdre away from her family and had her brought up in seclusion by Leabharcham, an old woman, and planned to marry her when she was old enough. Deirdre grew up, and one day told Leabharcham that she would love a man with hair the color of the raven, skin as white as snow, and lips as red as blood. Leabharcham told her she knew of such a man — Naoise, a handsome young warrior, hunter and singer at Conchobar’s court. With the collusion of Leabharcham, Deirdre met Naoise. At first the young man wanted nothing to do with her, because it was known that she was destined for the king. But Deirdre shamed him into eloping with her. Accompanied by his fiercely loyal brothers Ardan and Ainnle, the sons of Uisneach, they fled to Scotland. For a while, they lived a happy life there, hunting and fishing and living in beautiful places; one place associated with them is Loch Etive. But the furious, humiliated Conchobar tracked them down.
He sent Fergus mac Róich to them with an invitation to return and Fergus’s own promise of safe conduct home, but on the way back to Emain Macha Fergus was waylaid by the king’s plan, forced by his personal geis (an obligation) to accept an invitation to a feast. Fergus sent Deirdre and the sons of Uisnech on to Emain Macha with his son to protect them. After they had arrived, Conchobar sent Leabharcham to spy on Deirdre, to see if she had lost her beauty. Leabharcham, trying to protect Deirdre, told the king that Deirdre had lost all her beauty. Mistrustful, Conchobar then sent another spy, Gelbann,[2] who managed to catch a glimpse of Deirdre but was seen by Naoise, who threw a gold chess piece at him and put out his eye. The spy managed to get back to Conchobar, and told him that Deirdre was as beautiful as ever. Conchobar called his warriors to attack the Red Branch house where Deirdre and the sons of Uisnech were lodging. Naoise and his brothers fought valiantly, aided by a few Red Branch warriors, before Conchobar evoked their oath of loyalty to him and had Deirdre dragged to his side. At this point, Éogan mac Durthacht threw a spear, killing Naoise, and his brothers were killed shortly after. There are other versions of the death of Naoise. Fergus and his men arrived after the battle. Fergus was outraged by this betrayal of his word, and went into exile in Connacht. He later fought against Ulster for Ailill and Medb in the war known as the Táin Bó Cúailnge (the Cattle Raid of Cooley), the Irish Iliad.
After the death of Naoise, Conchobar took Deirdre as his wife. After a year, angered by Deirdre’s continuing coldness, Conchobar asked her whom in the world she hated the most, besides himself. She answered “Éogan mac Durthacht,” the man who had murdered Naoise. Conchobar said that he would give her to Éogan. As she was being taken to Éogan, Conchobar taunted her, saying she looked like a ewe between two rams. At this, Deirdre threw herself from the chariot, dashing her head to pieces against a rock. In some versions of the story, she died of grief.
Okay, some sexy love fun is in order and, well, the photographs sing their own song. John Lee Hooker just ices the cakes. Hmm.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen high heels quite like the ones in the very last image of this video. Ladies, the last set of heels is all yours. Homage to the sensual side of love–with a lot of legs. Yes, a lot of legs. I think we have some idea of what appeals to this particular incarnation of “Irene Adler.” And to many of the rest of us.
It ought to be easy to find a translation of a song’s lyrics, right? Not so with In The Forest, a Polish tune. Apparently the words cause even modern native speakers some grief because this is not modern Polish. Best I can figure is that perhaps there’s some questions about if the guy deserves what happens to him–and, the thought “shit happens.” You’ll have to watch to the very end to get that last thought via an image. At least that ‘s how I’m interpreting it right now. It’s bit of a walk on the dark side of romantic relationships. Just a bit. Don’t be dissuaded from listening because you don’t know Polish and there are no lyrics. The images tell a very familiar girl and boy story. I have no doubt you will recognize it.
I discovered Edna St. Vincent Millay in the fourth grade. What can I say? Great things in the school music and arts program–which also included The Highwaymanof which a version also appears here and Poe’s The Bells, which does not appear here.
Love Is Not All
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.
Drive Elevator Scene ~ The Kiss ~ composer Cliff Martinez ~ Heads up, if you’re squeamish, then stop watching for a short time, don’t stop listening or you’ll miss out, after the kiss while the music is in transition. If you have not viewed the film Drive, which is a truly great film, then I highly recommend it. Mary Poppins it is not. That said, what would you do to protect those you love? Also, yes, Ryan Gosling’s character knows the man in the elevator is a hit man and he knows he has fatal intentions. He steps into the elevator knowing. These are not random acts. Everything has intention. I cannot think of another film kiss that can compare with this one. If you can, I invite you to share it. Furthermore, there are clips of this scene set to other music by fans. I don’t know why they bother because Martinez’s score here is flawless for sheer emotive power in my opinion. Everything matters in this scene, every image, every look, every sound.
Opera imaginaire ~ Lakme Flower Duet ~Opera that works for me. Perhaps it will work for you too. I love how this transcends all sorts of obstacles and barriers on multiple levels: gender, culture, language, nature, humans, media, music and spirituality. If you don’t get it, then, well, you just won’t get it until you do a few dances with with a spring wind scented with apple blossoms.
Oh My Love ~ Katyna Ranieri, song by Riz Ortolani’ ~ Oddly enough I cannot recall how I found this gorgeous piece. I have heard of Ranieri. I have heard the song from some long ago time. There it was on the tubes of you and I was lucky enough to find a live performance by the very expressive Ranieri.
Irene and Sherlock Love Game ~ Vitamin String Quartet ~ Oh my, Sherlock is BACK! with a modern wonderful vengeance. There’s a bit of an homage to Sherlock currently on the sidebar to celebrate this delight. I selected this one because of the violin.
Lyrics by Alfred Noyes, abridged by Loreena McKennit
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor
And the highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding,
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He’d a French cocked hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark innyard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by the moonlight,
Watch for me by the moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way.
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand
But she loosened her hair i’ the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.
He did not come at the dawning; he did not come at noon,
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise o’ the moon,
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching,
Marching, marching
King George’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at the casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement,
The road that he would ride.
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
“now keep good watch!” And they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say
“Look for me by the moonlight
Watch for me by the moonlight
I’ll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way!”
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness and the hours crawled by like years!
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it!
The trigger at least was hers!
Tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs were ringing clear
Tlot-tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming!
She stood up straight and still!
Tlot in the frosty silence! Tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment! She drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death.
He turned; he spurred to the west; he did not know she stood
Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it; his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were the spurs i’ the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
Still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon, tossed upon the cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding,
Riding, riding,
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
So what’s love got to do with everything? Ask the very incredible Tina Turner, I’m sure she can do more than sing about it. But hear here we’re starting off with a song by an artist well-known for her Celtic treatments, Connie Dover. Last Night By The River is decidedly not Celtic. It’s based on a Shoshone ‘song’ and it differs decidedly from all the other tracks on The Border of Heaven which offers other love songs, all of which have been sung by others elsewhere–except the song I’ve selected.
Everything ~ The Doctor and River ~ artist Lifehouse ~ It’s River Song and The Doctor, do I really need to write anything else? I think not. I won’t. Well, yes, I will. Just a little bit. If you’re out of this romantic couple time loop–then you’re missing out on a fabulous love story across time and space.
The Road Home ~This is a story about the first couple that marries for love in a little rural village. It’s a very beautiful film visually, musically and story-wise. It often relies totally on music without lyrics. A must for all hopeless romantics.
The Road Home – Chinese Movie by Zhang Yimou – with Zhang Ziyi, Sun Honglei, Zheng Hao, Zhao Yuelin – Soundtrack composed by San Bao
*
Summer Kisses Winter Tears ~ Julee Cruise ~ Laura Manuel’s description says a lot. Tears of the Black Tiger is also a love story. It’s different. It’s Thai. I love it. The song sings for itself. Oh there are wonderful waterlily images in this film which make it a must for visual artists. The clip does not do the imagery justice.
Tears of the Black Tiger is a 2000 Thai western film written and directed by Wisit Sasanatieng.
With its loud acting style, exuberant sets and stunning shots in pastel colours, it´s one of my favorites movies. In this video i wanted to make a resume of Tears of Black Tiger’s atmosphere.
I made this! 🙂
*
The Eternal Vow ~ Green Destiny, Love Theme, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon Yo-Yo Ma ~ Tan Dun ~ It’s all very green. 🙂 No singing frogs today.
A few of my favourite “love scenes” from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. The two couples are Li Mu Bai and Shu Lien, the older couple, and Lo (Dark Cloud) and Jen, the younger couple.
*
Les Temps de l’ Amour ~Francoise Hardy~Moonrise Kingdom ~ Young love, delightful, defiant and dedicated. Moonrise Kingdom is a treat for those of us who adore such things as Bruce Willis not acting in another die-hard flick. Yes, he can act. Who’d have thunk it. Love as an adventure–get packed, don’t forget the music, the books or the cat.
ENGLISH TRANSLATION:
It’s time to love,
Time for friends and adventure.
When the time comes and goes,
Can not think of anything despite his injuries.
For the love of time
It is a long and short
It lasts forever, it will be remembered.
It is said that twenty years it is the king of the world
And there will be eternally in our eyes
All the blue sky.
It’s time to love,
Time for friends and adventure.
When the time comes and goes,
Can not think of anything despite his injuries.
For the love of time
It puts you in the heart
Much warmth and happiness.
One day it’s love and the heart beats faster,
Because life goes on
And we are quite happy to be in love.
It’s time to love,
Time for friends and adventure.
When the time comes and goes,
Cannot think of anything despite his injuries.
For the love of time
It is a long and short
It lasts forever, it will be remembered.
Oh, no, I’m not done yet. You’ve met Donne in the prompt post for this theme. I wonder who would have the musical chops to set Donne’s love songs to music? Any suggestions?
Click KKFI logo to catch all it offers streaming online.
Nahko Bear
Amazon Watch
Peace Shanti Om
Click on the photo above to visit Amazon Watch.
Alice in Wonderland
pantry
Pavane
Breakfast Special(s)
For the very first post enter "Breakfast Special, #1" and/or scroll through older entries; second helping = Railroad Crossing; third helping, Close Shave; fourth helping, People? Really Now; fifth helping, Pussy No More; sixth helping, 'book ends'; seventh helping, Odds? What Odds?; eighth helping, Do You Dig Pink Flamingoes Dancing in the Snow and Blue Lights?; ninth helping, Old Reliable Jack; tenth helping, Snowing Deep Sleep; eleventh helping, Connecting; twelth helping, Equations; #13, The Most Important Meal of the Day; from then on enter into search box Breakfast Special and a number such as: #14, #15, #16 and so on.
For Kili 90.1 fm, Pine Ridge, SD, click the image below for The Voice of the Lakota Nation.
Native America Calling ~ Native Voice
Native America Calling on Native Voice
Copyright notice ~
Violating copyright births bad karma---imagine a mad hacker you'll never see coming--nor catch going. Respect = my work is my work and your work is your work.
Everything posted here is my work, copyrighted, unless otherwise noted. Comments aside. Om
Climate Denial Crock of the Week
Tree hugging on a practical level and more. All sorts of great tidbits from Mushroom homes to…well solar panels. Do not delay. Visit today.
Connie Dover
folk ballad singer of “Last Night by the River”
Coto 2
News Site–eg arrests of Mountaintop Removal Protestors
om mani padme hum jewel in the lotus wahupa qi prana universal life energy
47whitebuffalo's Blog 