Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

RE-POSTED FROM LAST YEAR:

This for all the petite women I know and love.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day, Y'all! 

This from 'The Henpecked Giant' in the book 'Irish Wonders', popular folk tales as told by the people of Ireland:

"But its me own belafe that the most sarious mishtake av Finn's was in marryin' a little woman.  There's thim that says all wimmin is a mishtake be nacherbut there's a big differ bechuxt a little woman an' a big wan, the the little wans have sowls too big for their bodies, so are always lookin' out for a big man to marry, an the bigger he is, the betther they like him , as knowin' they can manage him all the aisier.  So it was wid Finn an' his little wife, for be hook an' crook she rejuiced him in that obejince that if she towld him for to go an' shtand on his head in the corner he'd do it wid the risk av his life, bekase he'd wanted to die an' go to heaven as he heard the priest say there was no marryin' there, an' though he did n't dare to hint it, he belaved in his sowl that the rayzon was the wimmin did n't get that far."

Stay clean, my friends......

Nostalgia from 1985.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eUMB8FS6C8&feature=player_detailpage

What was he thinking?

This artist, that is, Adolphe William Bouguereau, when he created this piece? The title is: 'Before the bath.'

I mention in a previous post that one day, while Renoir was being fitted for new eyeglasses, he threw them to the floor, crying, 'Good God, I see like Bouguereau!'  I would that I had his vision.

The best one can ever do, in my humble opinion, is to hazard a guess.  Speculate on what it is you believe the artist, speaker. friend or whomever was thinking, or perceiving, at the time. You may be close, maybe even spot on if you can see through their eyes.

Bouguereau's work often featured solitary images of females.  He paid great attention to their form and, in particular, their legs and feet.  A man after my own heart, indeed.

I've had the distinct displeasure of working with a couple of people who had the habit of saying: "I know what you were thinking.  You were thinking......"  They would go on to describe what my thoughts were. Products of their own twisted little imaginations.  Nowhere near what I was thinking.

The subsequent pieces are: 'After the bath' and 'The lost pleiad'

I want to break free!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=f4Mc-NYPHaQJust about time for the weekend.  Here's an upbeat tune to get us on the way.  Blue skies, sunshine and warm weather.

A Quick One

'Boris the Spider', written by John Entwistle, recorded in October of 1966 at Pye studios in London and featured on the album titled above.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bvFuUaCe8eY&feature=player_detailpage

My brother turned me on to the music of 'The Who'.  He'd put this vinyl recording onto the monaural turntable in our living room for me.  It was an enormous thing.  Four feet tall or so in a beautifully finished maple cabinet.  I was told to sit x number of feet away from it, so as not to damage my hearing.  Left to my own devices, I'd crank the volume up and put my head right up against the speakers to enjoy the full effect of Entwistle's bass.  'Happy Jack' was a favorite tune also.

Star bright, star bright.......

Joni Mitchell wrote 'This Flight Tonite' (lyrics below) in 1970 or thereabouts.  Nazareth,  a Scottish band, covered the tune in the early seventies.  I remember listening to it on the AM radio in those days.  Dan McCafferty's gravelly voice, sounding like he had a perpetual case of strep, instructing the listener to look out to the left.

Some argue that Naz massacred Joni's composition.  I think it's more comparable to Hendrix's version of Bobby Dylan's 'All Along the Watchtower'.   Like fresh baked wheat bread.  Delicious all by itself,  but now toasted with honey whipped butter.  A different experience altogether.

Look out the left the captain said
The lights down there, that’s where we’ll land
I saw a falling star burn up
Above the Las Vegas sands
It wasn’t the one that you gave to me
That night down south between the trailers
Not the early one
That you can wish upon;
Not the northern one
That guides in the sailors

Oh starbright, starbright
You’ve got the lovin’ that I like, all right
Turn this crazy bird around
I shouldn’t have got on this flight tonight

You got the touch so gentle and sweet
But you’ve got that look so critical
Now I can’t talk to you baby
I get so weak
Sometimes I think love is just mythical
Up there’s a heaven
Down there’s a town
Blackness everywhere and little lights shine
Oh, blackness, blackness dragging me down
Come on light the candle in this poor heart of
mine

Oh starbright, starbright
You’ve got the lovin’ that I like, all right
Turn this crazy bird around
I shouldn’t hove got on this flight tonight

I’m drinking sweet champagne
Got the headphones up high
Can’t numb you out
Can’t drum you out of my mind
They’re playing "goodbye baby, baby
goodbye,
Ooh, ooh, love is blind"
Up go the flaps, down go the wheels
I hope you got your heat turned on baby
I hope they finally fixed your automobile
I hope it’s better when we meet again baby

Starbright, starbright
You got the lovin’ that I like, all right
Turn this crazy bird around
I shouldn’t have got on this flight tonight 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HolbQ_XBnak&feature=player_detailpage 

Thank you, Scotland for another savory bite.

Strokes

It's pouring down the rain here, keeping me inside this morning.

Strokes, (not the vascular kind), things that make us feel good, wanted, interesting, valued. Sometimes they're just to take our mind off of other things.  Everybody wants some, I want some too.

People get theirs in different ways.  Some healthy, some not so much.  Some of us use myriad sources, good ones at this time of day, bad ones at another.  Some people build, others tear down.  It's not hard to slip from one to the other. Some might say that's human nature.  Maybe.  I'm thinking there are other forces at work.

I have a nephew who gets his strokes at the gaming tables.  It must feel really good to win.  He'll sacrifice just about anything to play.  I understand the feeling, but not the means to his end.  Never been a game kind of a guy.  I suppose if I were confined to a closet, and the only entertainment was a deck of cards or a monopoly board.  Well, then maybe.....but there is always my sweet imagination to take me elsewhere.

I have encountered persons who have an obsessive need to control.  One that added humiliation of those she was controlling to her palette.  Like nurse Ratched in 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.'  It was her in reality now that I think about it.  Often, I don't think they can see it themselves.  That kind I really cannot understand.  Perhaps it's to assuage the feeling of helplessness.  The world is a random and capricious place.  "If I can just create some order over here, chaos will cease to exist!"

I'm gonna build today and try real hard not to be an ass.