Quote of the Day: Vanity Fair Hive

Good morning! We hope that all the tryptophan and Beaujolais provided a momentary respite from the reality that the world’s most vital democracy is now being run by a Twitter troll. But here we are!

*nods in agreement*

LOL!

Stay tuned.

It’s Not This Time Of Year Without

Dropping by a mall: Sorry, self is shallow.

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T-Shirt Resolution: H & M, Black Friday

Dropping by a beach:

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Capitola, CA

Walking around the house in the snuggly-est slippers one can find:

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Self found these in Chinatown.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Two 1/2 Years Later, Nothing’s Changed

The Economist, 14 June 2014: Terror’s New Headquarters

  • Perhaps Iraq’s humiliated army will muster the resolve to make a stand, or even retake Mosul. But, with its symbolic victories and an endless supply of young men, that will be of little comfort. ISIS aims to withdraw the map of of the Middle East by creating a Sunni state, starting with Eastern Syria and the heart of Iraq. Its brand of militancy is spreading poison and terror across the Arab world. One day, if they have their way, ISIS’s suicide bombers will also target Europe and America. Without a change of heart in Baghdad and Washington, groups like it will continue to cause mayhem. Even with a new approach, it will be hard to stop the jihad.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Sally Potter’s YES (Potter Wrote the Entire Thing In Iambic Pentameter)

Self’s favorite scene in the movie is when SHE (played by Joan Allen) goes to visit her dying aunt in a hospital in Belfast.

Aunt:

The thing is, no-one told
Me I’d have all this time, but far too late
To use it for the things I dreamed of. Fate
Delivers upside down and back to front.
I’ve more to say than ever, but they shunt
Me back and forth all day from bed to chair
And back to bed again; it isn’t fair.
All this experience I’d like to share.
Not that it all adds up. Not that you care.
I’d better stop — it’s time for you to go
Already, isn’t it? Five minutes — oh,
Well maybe ten . . . you see, I never know
When you’ll be here again. It’s such a blow
Each time you leave, it’s hardly worth your while
To come at all. I mean it! Don’t you smile
Like that! Oh, you’ll be sorry when I’m dead.
I’m only joking, dear. I only said
That for a laugh. Although of course it’s true.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Magic 5: Thanksgiving Edition

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Green Apple Books, 9th Avenue (by Golden Gate Park), San Francisco: This is an antique wall phone. I do really really want to call Ishmael!

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Charles Parsons’ Model Chinese Pole Junk (circa 500 B.C.) at the San Mateo County Historical Museum, Courthouse Square, Redwood City

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Model of a British Ship-of-the-Line, circa 1765 (in the Charles Parsons Exhibit at the San Mateo County Historical Museum

Entrance fee to the San Mateo County Historical Museum: $6.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Optimistic 3: 2016 Daily Post Photo Challenge # 4

Cold, gloomy.

There is someone tromping on the roof.

Reminds self she hasn’t logged on to Twitter in a week or more.

When self has no time to play hashtag games, things are really getting serious.

In spite of all, she faces 2016 with optimism.

Here’s a necklace made by the sister of Mavee Park (BFF in kindergarten in Manila!)

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Necklace handmade in the Philippines; Red Sweater from Dublin

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Mavee throws a huge Thanksgiving party every year. Self was a guest at last year’s. Mavee scattered these paper stars (from the Philippines) all over her rec room.

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Thumbs Up! The Blog Mistress Herself, on a Fast Train to Venice, November 2015

It’s a crime not to feel optimistic in Italy. Seriously.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

The Final Post on TRIOS: the New Whitney Museum, Cork, the Lake at Annaghmakerrig

It is the day after Thanksgiving. Snap out of your food comas, everyone!

Self must say, this year’s Thanksgiving was brilliant. Self ate more than she’s ever eaten in her life. Her friend was up at 6 a.m. because she and her daughter are going to the mall. But self has an on-line class to get caught up on, so she chose to stay behind.

Before delving into her student pieces, however, self peruses her archives so that she can make one last post on WordPress Photo Challenge this week:  TRIO.

Self took the first picture in a museum she considers one of the best in the entire world: The new Whitney Museum. On exhibit right now: a retrospective on Frank Stella.

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On the 6th Floor of the New Whitney Museum (Didn’t take down the name of the artist, boo)

The second picture is from one of self’s happy places: Café Paradiso in Cork, Ireland.

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From a Book on Dublin-born Artist Sean Scully, which was in Self’s Room in Café Paradiso, Cork

And finally, a picture of the Mother of All Happy Places, a place that signifies peace, happiness, mindfulness, inspiration: the lake in the Tyrone Guthrie Centre in Annaghmakerrig.

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3 Metal Bars Sticking out of the Lake in Annaghmakerrig, Ireland

Only a Matter of Time

Self is teaching an on-line class for UCLA Extension’s Writers Program, and it’s nonfiction. Now that the holidays are near, and the writing prompts get more complicated, she worries that her students will fall apart. Self is like a mother hen, clucking over her chicks, constantly admonishing, Don’t let the thought of carving the bird deter you from your writing tasks!

She begins each course with instructions on doing daily writing, emphasizing the importance of dailiness to honing the writing “muscle.”

Now, in the fourth week of the class, a student turns in an assignment about “a better version of you,” a version that carries a notebook around town (Los Angeles), “the notebook is like a travelogue of sorts: city skylines of home and away fill the pages, each thoughtful stroke of her pen drawing a connection to the past. She is always inspired and she is, above all, hopeful.”

Way to go, oh resourceful UCLA Extension writing student. Way to go.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!

Another Poem for the Saturday After Thanksgiving (2014)

It is raining. Hooray! California really needs the rain.

Self is taking the opportunity to go through her humongous Pile of Stuff.

Part of the pile is New Yorkers. And another part is The New York Review of Books.

One thing self has noticed in the two years she’s been subscribing to The New York Review of Books is: She really likes their poetry.

She encountered a nifty poem on p. 10 of the Nov. 6, 2014 NYRB issue. Here’s the first half:

LISBON, 1989

by April Bernard

The new year lurched
on a clamor of horns
trash cans and firecrackers
rising up from the harbor
over the window sills
into a hotel room where
civility had just died.
Next day we went for lunch
to a pricey restaurant
filled with leftover Nazis
and I was sick in the ladies’ room
where the walls were zebra skins
and the vanity stools mothed-up
leopard. So I left alone

Perhaps self finds the poem so resonant because of the novel she is currently reading: Hans Fallada’s mesmerizing novel of life in World War II Berlin, Every Man Dies Alone.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

This Poem, Saturday After Thanksgiving (2014)

POSTCARD

published in Bird’s Thumb, June 2014

by Ellie Francis Douglass

I live here now. I realized that today. What we heard
about Northwest dreariness is true, yet the store lights
and street lamps ricochet off rain drops clinging
to power-lines. They burn like candles in a dim church.

Read more great work at Bird’s Thumb, here.

Stay tuned.

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