August 7, 2014

“Do not fall in love with people like me 
we will take you to 
museums and parks 
and monuments 
and kiss you in every beautiful 
place so that you can 
never go back to them 
without tasting us 
like blood in your mouth.

I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.

-Caitlyn Siehl, Literary Sexts: A Collection of Short & Sexy Love Poems


August 3, 2014

Piano - by D.H. Lawrence

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;

Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see

A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings

And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song

Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong

To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside

And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour

With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour

Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast

Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

When D.H. Lawrence was 25, the same age I am now, his mother died of cancer.  He was very close with his mother; her death pushed him into a deep depression which lasted for many months.  This poem bottles his heartache in bitter sweetness.

July 27, 2014

“Words can be like X-rays if you use them properly — they’ll go through anything. You read and you’re pierced.” 

-Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

It almost makes me nervous sometimes to say or write anything at all.  I hate to misuse words and I am so prone to doing just that.

July 6, 2014

“There are some words that once spoken will split the world in two. There would be the life before you breathed them and then the altered life after they’d been said. They take a long time to find, words like that. They make you hesitate. Choose with care. Hold on to them unspoken for as long as you can just so your world will stay intact.” 

-Andrea Levy, Small Island

July 3, 2014

We are back from our trek through the Midwest, which was beautiful and striking and hot.  But the most lovely of all things was spending time with my sweet family.  I have been reading Meera Syal’s “Anita and Me” and this quote seemed like the refrain for my past week’s trip:

“Maybe that’s what love meant, both people thinking they were the lucky one.” 
-Meera Syal

Meera is a fierce and independent female writer whose strong sense of self comes across in her writing.  This line comes from the main character’s reflection on her mother and father’s marriage; it’s meant to refer to husbands and wives.  But I think it refers to any love, especially family love.  For me, real, sacrificial love is often blessedly accompanied by the impression that I am just so lucky to have these people in my life!

June 24, 2014 

I took a small hiatus from my resolution blog for the past few weeks.  Consider the hiatus kaput.  However, we do leave for our Arizona road trip tomorrow, so I may initiate Hiatus Numba Two.  But, for now, I’m going to take a beat to childishly and semi-autobiographically enjoy this Silverstein rhyme. 

Messy Room 
by Shel Silverstein
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater’s been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or—
Huh? You say it’s mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!

June 10, 2014

“But the problem with readers, the idea we’re given of reading is that the model of a reader is the person watching a film, or watching television. So the greatest principle is, “I should sit here and I should be entertained.” And the more classical model, which has been completely taken away, is the idea of a reader as an amateur musician. An amateur musician who sits at the piano, has a piece of music, which is the work, made by somebody they don’t know, who they probably couldn’t comprehend entirely, and they have to use their skills to play this piece of music. The greater the skill, the greater the gift that you give the artist and that the artist gives you. That’s the incredibly unfashionable idea of reading. And yet when you practice reading, and you work at a text, it can only give you what you put into it. It’s an old moral, but it’s completely true.” 
- Zadie Smith, author of White Teeth