Breakfast Special, #36, Szechuan Shrimp Lo Mein

“Szechuan Shrimp Lo Mein”

“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?”

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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.

Ray Adams

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.

~~~

Breakfast Special, #1  ->  https://47whitebuffalo.wordpress.com/2013/04/25/breakfast-special/

Lovers, a touch of drama

What’s love without some drama? Hmm?

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Arn & Cecelia ~  Arn Knight Templar    Ballad about Love_Vladimir Vysotsky’s (1975) Translations by I.Shambat. Movie_Arn – Tempelriddaren (2007).

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Wikipedia online source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arn_%E2%80%93_The_Knight_Templar

Arn – The Knight Templar (Swedish: Arn – Tempelriddaren) is a 2007 epic film based on Jan Guillou‘s trilogy about the fictional Swedish Knight Templar Arn 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

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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.

Romeo & Juliet  I”m Kissing You ~ Des’ree

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A Time for Us  ~ Barratt Waugh

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Tristan & Isolde None Can Die  ~ Anne Dudley

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Wikipedia has an extensive plot outline for the film from which this music originates–and a lot more as you can see from the embedded links.

Tristan & Isolde is a 2006 romantic drama film based on the medieval romantic legend of Tristan and Isolde. It was produced by Ridley Scott (who had been working on an adaptation since the mid-seventies) and Tony Scott, directed by Kevin Reynolds and stars James Franco and Sophia Myles, with an original music score composed by Anne Dudley. This was Franchise Pictures‘ last film before bankruptcy

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Deirdre and Naoise  ~ Deirdre of the Sorrows

Vikki Ni Bhrein

Deirdre via  Wikipedia:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deirdre :

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.

There are at least five plays based on Deirdre’s story: George William Russell‘s Deirdre (1902), William Butler YeatsDeirdre (1907), J. M. Synge‘s Deirdre of the Sorrows (1910), John Coulter‘s Deirdre of the Sorrows: An Ancient and Noble Tale Retold by John Coulter for Music by Healey Willian (1944), and Vincent WoodsA Cry from Heaven (2005). There are also three books: Deirdre (1923) by James Stephens, The Celts (1988) by Elona Malterre, and “The Swan Maiden” by Jules Watson.

Deirdre, a ship in the Irish Naval Service from 1972 to 2001, was named after her.

 

 

More Amour ~ With legs, hands, lips and ~~ The Kiss

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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.

Bang Bang Bang Bang ~ John Lee Hooker

Irene Adler·

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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.

In The Forest ~ Warsaw Village Band

JARO Medien GmbH – Bremen

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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 Highwayman of 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.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

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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.

 PowerfulScenes

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What can I can? If you love poetry, then discover Neruda if you have not already.  Here’s just one sonnet why.

One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII

BY PABLO NERUDA

TRANSLATED BY MARK EISNER

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
[Online source: The Poetry Foundation http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/179257]

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Before Sunrise Written & Directed By Kealan O’Rourke ~ A very lovely animated work about the dark finding light and the rest is transformation.

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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.

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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.

Mauro Piffero·

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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.

LittlestVioletSeller

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The Highwaywman ~ Loreena McKennitt ~ Listen and read and imagine.

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Album: The Books of Secrets
Year: 1997

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.

~

~Bear:  LOVE    http://bearspawprint.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/music-themes-love/
____________________________________________________________
Eva:   More Amour — With legs, hands, lips, and The Kiss —            https://47whitebuffalo.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/more-amour-with-legs-hands-lips-and-the-kiss/
Eva:   What’s Love Got To Do?    What’s Love Got to Do? Musical Theme for Friday, the 13th of December 2013.
____________________________________________________________
Willow: ??     http://willowdot21.wordpress.com/
____________________________________________________________
Johnny: LOVE
http://johnnyojanpera.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/musi-theme-december-13-love/  ____________________________________________________________
Deborah: Love and Random Acts of Kindness: A Musical Exploration           http://myriad234.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/love-and-random-acts-of-kindness-a-musical-exploration/
____________________________________________________________
D.S. Nelson: ??   http://hatpaintladdersandwonkypooh.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

 

 

Music Theme: What’s my secret fantasy desire? My hope? My fond wish? Animate Art with Music! What else is worth living for?

Oh yes, my secret (not so much now) desire is to be an artiste de animation deluxe! Oh yes, let’s play with colorful fantasy desires complete with soundtracks of secrets, hopes and wishes galore. I wish I could ride a motorbike.  I also wish to be fluent in French. Honestly, I do. Now check these delights out. Ahhh, all for the art of animation. Sigh. Complete with cats. Light, fluffy and hopefully not at all stuffy. Unfortunately for one a bit too stuffy. What else are bad friends for except getting us into tight spots?  Slice some melon and leave aside being forlorn. It’s I-want-to-be-an-animator blogcasa night– or day. Here are some of my favorite delights. Oh it’s not all sweetness and spices. Not every dolly is nice-s. Do note, there’s food fun a-plenty. Mmm, Eve and her apples….mmm, yes. If only I had a geek brain.

*

O I so Wish! Ironic Fantasy fun!

Parigot

MadArtistPublishing·

*

Hopes! 

A Ninja Love Story

*

Desires! Mythic Fantasy.

Mytho Logique

*

Secret, Desire, Fantasy

A Fox Tale

*

Comic Fantasy –and Desire, as in yeah, watermelon would be delicious right now. Seeds, the things from which wishes grow. 

Larva -Watermelon

*

Fantasy! Desire! Secret–oops! Who wants milk?

Mau

*
Secrets! and ???
Alma
*
Desires! 
Love Recipe
*
Hopes, Desires, Wishes, Secrets, Fantasies all in one! Food for the soul. 
Butterfly Dragon
*
Well, it’s been a rather long show, folks. I do hope you’ve all enjoyed the film-fest.  That’s the thing about secrets, once they start spilling, it’s tough to stop the flow. Hmm. So now you know. What????? Oh secrets, yes. They’re everywhere.  Take care.
~~
Bear is spilling some Dreams http://bearspawprint.wordpress.com/2013/11/27/music-themes-secrets-hopes-wishes-and-fantasies/#comment-10633

Willow

Deborah

D.S. Nelson

Johnny, guys, so predictable. 🙂    http://johnnyojanpera.wordpress.com/2013/11/27/secrets-hope-wishes-and-fantasies/

Searching for a satisfying love story via dvd? Search no more. Serve some~ Chicken With Plums ~ What More Could Hopeless Romantics Wish For?

Answer to post subject title question— I have no idea regarding what more. Oh that’s a lie. Sure I do. But that’s beside the point here when it comes to Chicken With Plums. Let’s put it this way, I ate the entire film meal and loved it.

burp

Is it possible to write a review and give nothing away about the content? Why would I want to do that if I’m pitching a story to people who are all about ‘what’s going on here’? For my own churlish amusement, I guess. Honestly, I think the film trailer gives away far too much information as it is. That’s not really fair considering this isn’t a film about some devious plot to overthrow the world order. Nope. It’s certainly not a film about that sort of sordid messiness. It’s more of an adventure into a few human hearts., how things are connected, intense smoke and controlling parents. Now does that last qualify as a spoiler or not? Nawww, I don’t think it does. That’s not exactly a breaking news story–though there are a few broken things here.

What makes a great story? What keeps you reading a book? Why do you keep watching a movie? Is it intricate plotting and scheming? Cunning and creepy characters with caustic conversation? Thrill seeking vicarious stunt action? Fast cars and hot women–and men? How about a not so fast train, plane and a boat? Frankly I think we need to redefine the nature of ‘hot’ for both men and women on main streets. But that discussion doesn’t really fit here so I’m going to leave it alone–if I can.  Back to the swing of things:  Stunning images and exotic locations? What is that special bait that gets the hook in your brain box and keeps you reading and watching? What trips your entertainment traps? What feathers tickle you humor bones? By the way, do you enjoy random visits with Death?

What kind of story do you pick for a chilly night with the home-fires? Do your fingers dance to drama, comedy, tragedy or romance? Or some giddy brew of everything? Check out the examples suggested and get back to me asap. Please feel free to suggest other examples.  Hint, that’s what the blank lines are supposed to encourage you to do. If it’s not working, let me know and we’ll revise accordingly. Thanks for your input even though you’ve yet to offer any. Yet.

Tragedy     ______  as in Othello

Comedy    ______  as in Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Romance  ______  as in Moonrise Kingdom

Drama     _______ as in Elizabeth Taylor On A Hot Tin Roof

Action    _______ as in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

Me? What do I pick? I do it all as long as it’s got the goods to keep my imagination engaged. I like a full plate of a solid story, no-big-box characters, delicious visuals, and sensual sounds. Yesterday evening’s top film pick was Chicken With Plums.  Yes I indulged in several otheres, but, sigh, as amusing as they were, no other was qualifed for TOP billing except the film with the fruit. I would love to ramble on and on about this delight. But I won’t. It would pull the rug out from the act of discovery and exploration.  Taste it for yourself. Oh, and if you’ve never eaten plums except with your breakfast–you’ve been missing out on some damn fine sweet stuff. Consider yourself DEPRIVED. Hmm…maybe it’s not in my best interests to encourage others to eat plums as that will mean fewer plums for moi. How do I talk about this film without mentioning plums when they’re the last word in the title? Chicken With ____ is not the way to go. That fill in the blank with your favorite fruit just isn’t working for me.  How about you?

Chicken With Plums 

Chicken With Plums Movie Trailer (2012). The french movie, directed by Marjane Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud is set in Teheran, in 1958. From the Writers and director of Persepolis anime movie.

Note: The trailer says “Coming Soon” but the film has already come. No, you don’t have to go to France to see it. Silly bunnies.

Dessert?

Why yes, thank you.  I don’t mind if I do.  I’d like Chocolat.

PS, Were you expecting depraved instead of deprived? If so, what’s that tell you about you? No need to share. It’s quite alright to keep some things to ourselves.

Oh and if this is the most unsatisfying review of a film that you’ve ever read, please don’t hold it against Chicken With PlumsDon’t deprive yourself any longer than necessary on my account.

More RED than you can bear?

Oh yeah, the divine Katie Webster– late great queen of that Big Woman Sound with a heaping TON of attitude  all her own.  OOOO I wonder if the Red Wheelbarrow can handle her red negligee? Gather your favorite libation, light your smoke signaler, put your feet up, click play and, and well play a little yourself while Katie tickles the ivories and more…..

Oh yes, I first heard the delicious Katie on KKFI YEARS ago–this very tune. This afternoon it floated across the radio waves again…ooo thank you, Groovy Grant. White Hat Mike better watch out or you might jam his radio traffic time every Friday. LOL

www.kkfi.org –’cause I do like to share great music.

“Swans and Other Lovers”

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