Cheese cake and Tea

Yes, this is what I'm doing right now. Enjoying a slice of cheese cake and tea.(While typing this of course)
I'm also thrilled when I have some time to myself to write a few things to post on this blog. Mostly, I enjoy the abundance of U Tube videos I can post to express my emotions at the current time.
Usually I would post something about the year gone by. But I'm not. What happened was life. The usual that all of us can expect while we are still living. The highs, lows and inbetweens. This will also go along for next year, and the year after that.

But at this very moment I feel content with my tea and cheese cake. Secluded in my room surrounding by piles, and I do mean piles of books, art supplies and clothes.
Tomorrow I will wake up and sojourn on to a short work week while trying to decide to stay in or go out for New Year's. I always, without fail, stay in. I'm not a party girl anymore and will probably be in bed by 10:00 p.m.

But until then, I will finish my tea, take in the last bites of my dessert and crawl into bed. Where I hope I will finish the night with pleasant dreams.

We have passed the Winter Solstice and are heading towards the New Year.
I hope everyone has a magical 2011 as I raise my glass of wine to all.
In the mean time, here is a song from one of my favorite artists.
Love to all!

Every Year It Comes to This

I get my cocoa (or wine) and plant myself in front of the television and watch this movie over and over again.

I'm Truly Digging on Bats for Lashes

Sleep Alone from Bat for Lashes on Vimeo.

Not From Me

Every year I sit on my front pouch, watch the leaves turn and begin reading.
And every year around Halloween I read "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow".

"I was always fond of visiting new scenes, and observing strange characters and manners. Even when a mere child I began my travels, and made many tours of discovery into foreign parts and unknown regions of my native city, to the frequent alarm of my parents, and the emolument of the town crier. As I grew into boyhood, I extended the range of my observations. My holiday afternoons were spent in rambles about the surrounding country. I made myself familiar with all its places famous in history or fable. I knew every spot where a murder or robbery had been committed, or a ghost seen. I visited the neighboring villages, and added greatly to my stock of knowledge, by noting their habits and customs, and conversing with there sages and great men. I even journeyed one long summer's day to the summit of the most distant hill, whence I stretched my eye over many a mile of terra incognita, and was astonished to find how vast a globe I inhabited.
This rambling propensity strengthened with my years. Books of voyages and travels became my passion, and in devouring their contents, I neglected the regular exercises of the school. How wistfully would I wander about the pier-heads in fine weather, and watch the parting ships, bound to distant climes; with what longing eyes would I gaze after their lessening sails, and waft myself in imagination to the ends of the earth! Further reading and thinking, though they brought this vague inclination into more reasonable bounds, only served to make it more decided, I visited various parts of my own country; and had I been merely a lover of fine scenery, I should have felt little desire to seek else here its gratification, for on no country had the charms of nature been more prodigally lavished. Her mighty lakes, her oceans of liquid silver; her mountains, with their bright aerial tints; her valleys, teeming with wild fertility; her tremendous cataracts, thundering in their solitude; her boundless plains, waving with spontaneous verdure; her broad deep rivers, rolling in solemn silence to the ocean; her trackless forest, where vegetation puts forth all its magnificence; her skies, kindling with the magic of summer clouds and glorious sunshine; no, never need an American go beyond his own country for the sublime and beautiful of natural scenery.
But Europe held forth all the charms of storied and poetical association. There were to be seen the masterpieces of art, the refinements of highly cultivated society, the quaint peculiarities of ancient and local custom. My native country was full of youthful promise; Europe was rich in the accumulated treasures of age. Her very ruins told the history of the times gone by, and every mouldering stone was a chronicle. I longed to wander over the scenes of renowned achievement-to tread, as it were, in the footsteps of antiquity - to loiter about the ruined castle - to mediate on the falling tower - to escape, in short, from the commonplace realities of the present, and lose myself among the shadowy grandeur's of the past".

Washington Irving

Niyaz

As I sit here drinking my first cup of coffee. My mind wanders to
lands I have yet to travel and the beauty of people around the world.

Favorite Artists

Instead of writing about certain events in my life. I thought it would be nice to post some of my favorite artists. Let thier creativity and imagination take you into the vortex of their world.

As The Full Moon Rises Over The Ridge...

The Old Ways

Summer is passing.
As I look out my window I see the leaves starting to turn. It is my favorite time of the year knocking the flip flop wearing, “Don’t you wish there more sunny days in Seattle?” people away. You live in the Pacific Northwest. You deal with rain and if you don’t appreciate it then please, disappear.

I do more writing during the autumn months. Autumn always becomes a personal awakening for me. It always has been and it always will. It also marks an exciting time where I work. Classes and programs begin. The three months of quiet during the summer vanish and when December arrives, we are knee deep in the middle of our busy season.

Maybe I enjoy autumn so much because it fills me with a comfort that I don’t feel during any time of the year. That though many happy memories happen throughout the seasons, autumn is my summer time. It is a time when I venture out of the house more and become more sociable. Maybe it is because since I turned 40 in July, there is a sense of greater comfort being in my own skin. That I love my life. That my friends are always close, no matter how far apart some of us might be from one another.

And as the smell of bonfires fill the senses and the flames dance higher into the crisp air. Remember. “There are times of sadness and where no comfort is known. But gaze upon the autumn sun. Where the touch is gentle and where the warmth will fill you with an intoxicating elixir".

It's Cloudy and Mystical

We have a had a couple of warm days, but now the sun and heat have disappeared and it is back down to what might as well be below normal temperatures. Nonetheless, it is refreashing. We all might be pale and drinking more coffee than usual, but we are not burning up.
So here is some mood music from the Pacific Northwest as I look towards Discovery Park and see the fog rolling in.

Northern Lights and Zombies

Tonight, those living in the Pacific Northwest might get a chance to view the Northern lights. NOAA forcasters expect a 10% chance of a major geometric strom and 45% chance of decent geometric activity. I'm excited! Unfortnatley this activity is suppose to occur between 12 a.m. and 4 p.m. Well when I will be sound asleep.
However, this is something that I don't get to see everyday. And I just might have to sit in my backyard and pray that the city lights don't affect the view. Then my mind started thinking of a story. The story line not at all original, but I started to write this goofy little piece of what if these bursts of magnetic flares turn some of the residents of Seattle into zombies, circus freaks or crows.

Stay tuned.

Me encanta su musica!

Dreams

I did mean to write about the many bizarre and vivid dreams I have been having of late. Instead, I changed the look of the blog, again. And after having some issues and muttering some expletives under my breath. I believe I'm finished for now. Which, incidentally won't be the last time the appearance changes.

But as night begins to wear on I notice the time. Hmm. almost time for me to pack it in so I can be bright and chipper for tomorrow. I have found something out about myself lately. That I'm really a night person. I have to make myself go to bed at a decent time and even though I do get up around 6:00 a.m. I'm a zombie to anyone I speak with. Which brings me to what this post is suppose to be about.

Dreams.

I dream in color all of the time. It was strange for me to hear that most people dream only in black and white and having dreams in color was unusual to some. I have never had a dream in black and white. Or should I say, I don't recall them.

Anyway, my dreams have been this:

I was staring out of a window of a house I once lived in. Next door was a field where there was shallow water and orca's were swimming in it. The water that was once shallow suddenly became deep and the orca's continued to swim across the field. I was calling out to a couple of people (who I don't recall) to come and see the whales. They continued along their journey. I remember that the water was a beautiful cobalt blue and I could smell the ocean outside.

Last night's dream was a flying dream. Which I love! I was in a building and there was an electrical storm outside. The feeling I had was that I was not frightened but actually felt very comfortable. Then Eric Northman appeared. Those who watch the series "True Blood" will know who I'm talking about. Those who don't. Well, Eric Northman is played by Alexander Skarsgard. He is tall, handsome and delicious. Anyway, he comes up behind me and asks if I'm ready to do the test. He takes my hand and we venture outside during the storm. I ask him if he is going to come with me but before he can answer I'm already in the sky. I'm soaring along enjoying the freedom, wondering if lightening will strike me down. Then a wave of panic comes over me. I'm I going to high? To fast? Next thing I know, I'm in a meadow and it is during autumn. I can smell the decay of leaves and wood burning. There is someone with me. A man, but I can't make out his face. But it feels comfortable.

Then I wake up!

Quote of The Day

"Honest good humor is the oil and wine of a merry meeting, and there is no jovial companionship equal to that where the jokes are rather small and laughter abundant."

Washington Irving

Congrats to Spain!

A Geek Love 4th of July

Many people will participate in fourth of July festivities today. My earliest recollections of this holiday was being scared to death of the firecrackers being lit and the smell of smoke from one of my all time personal favorites. I refer to it as "The curling spiral of black smoking cat poop". Which didn't pop but smoked, screeched and curled till it reminded me of decomposing animal dung. Nonetheless it was fun. Barbeque's and endless running around, telling ghost stories and staying up way past our normal bed time.

However, as I'm typing this post right now, I just heard on NPR that many cities couldn't afford to have their annual fireworks show due to budget cuts. And one city is even charging an admissions fee. Pretty depressing especially for families who just want to go out for an evening and just enjoy some lights in the sky.

Many friends of mine are going to be doing there own thing this year by providing their own entertainment. A burlesque show, dolls hanging from trees, and carnival music being played in the background. The weather here is not going to be cooperating much either, the high today will be in the 50's and we also will a have 50% chance of rain later tonight. So on this fourth of July celebrate your freedom by running down the street naked or doing karaoke in your backyard. Make your neighborhood into a carnival of unity, freaks and love.

It Remains Like This In The Pacific Northwest

What Have I Been Doing Lately?

My life is going along like everyone else in the world. I have been working, socializing with friends and preparing for a lovely three week vacation in July.
Also, did I mention within those three weeks I will be turning 40?
I can't wait. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my 20's and 30's. I have hopefully matured but not so much that life ends up hardening my heart when I'm 70. I hope that my life has taught me enough lessons that when challenges do emerge, I meet them head on, with patience and determination, and that I will always end the day with a smile.

Did I Mention I love Football!

Advice From Anne Rice

On writing, my advice is the same to all. If you want to be a writer, write. Write and write and write. If you stop, start again. Save everything that you write. If you feel blocked, write through it until you feel your creative juices flowing again. Write. Writing is what makes a writer, nothing more and nothing less. --- Ignore
critics. Critics are a dime a dozen. Anybody can be a critic. Writers are priceless. ---- Go where the pleasure is in your writing. Go where the pain is. Write the book you would like to read. Write the book you have been trying to find but have not found. But write. And remember, there are no rules for our profession. Ignore rules. Ignore what I say here if it doesn't help you. Do it your own way.
--- Every writer knows fear and discouragement. Just write. --- The world is crying for new writing. It is crying for fresh and original voices and new characters and new stories. If you won't write the classics of tomorrow, well, we will not have any. Good luck."

Spring is Around the Corner

A Guest

This little guy wanted to come inside.

The Shakespearean Month

I have always had a deep affinity for Shakespeare. When I was around 14, my sister along with a couple of relatives/friends would sit around and read one of the many plays or sonnets. Over the summer months we would prepare a picnic basket and watch one of the performances of "Shakespeare in the Park". I loved the language, the poetry, the humor and tragedy. A cornucopia of life that I had only begun to discover. It also filled me with a passion for literature and art.

As the years swept by I started to neglect Shakespeare. My books sat upon my shelves collecting dust and the words written of tragedy and comedy seemed to play out in my own life. (though not as extreme I might add) I began to miss my favorite writer and I started to think back on my times with Shakespeare. I started to recite some of my favorite lines in my head and much to my amusement, would make up little melodies from some of the sonnets. The excitement that came over me by rediscovering his work was that of a first love. His writings introduced a shy girl from Kansas an endless labyrinth of life and imagination and like a first love, you never forget them. They are always somewhere in your thoughts and the slightest smell, sound or visual will make you remember them. That is what Shakespeare is to me.


"The lover, all as frantic,
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name."

It Happens

I had received an e-mail earlier today that a couple of poems that I submitted will not be published in a magazine. In other words rejected.
I'm not disappointed by any means. It is the nature of the beast and the beauty about blogs is that individuals can display their writing and art work.
It is what artist's do when they display, submit, show their work to an individual or to the masses. They give them a part of thier soul.
So I will continue to do what I always do. Submit more work and keep at it.
It is the creativity that feeds me. Not the glory.

Love Is Short

And one has a sorrow that never was said,

And I smild as she passed with her goods and her gear,

And that was the last I saw of my dear.

Lyrics from

"She Moved Through the Fair"

The Peace at Night

Port Gamble

Nestled away in the Kitsap peninsula is a tiny town called Port Gamble. It is quaint, charming. You can almost hear the sound of horse drawn carriages coming down the street. Upon exploring more of this scenic place you realize you have ventured back into time. The houses, the cemetery, the church. All belonging to an era of the
1800's perfectly preserved.

There is another feeling you might get walking around. You might notice that there are no people or what I should say no "residents" of the town in sight. No one doing yard work or sitting on their porches. The people you do see however are shop keepers and other tourists.
Where are the real residents? You might begin to wonder. The vendors at the Farmer's Market wouldn't really count. Even peering into the church you will not see a soul attending Sunday's sermon.

Do they come out at night instead to begin their day?