Tuesday, October 2, 2012

great season!

hi little tenders.
o autumn.
it's really here!
every year i look forward to october.

whether it is a harbinger of the coming winter or a eulogy to the dearly departed summer, october always fulfills it's rustling promise of gifts!

so many colours: rust, citrine, ochre, russet, tawny, pumpkin, amber, burnt mahogany.
ugh ugh ugh
cozy early nights
sweaters.  layers.
burnished beasts.
baked goods.
root vegetables!
and to quote my darling honey: "general toe-warming and snug-as-bugging".

embrace the change!
o hey, i also have a second blog now.
it's called feastfestival and it's all about words and communication and interesting literary thingys.
http://feastfestival.tumblr.com/
BOOM




Friday, September 28, 2012

great apples!

it's autumn, tender ones.
go out and pick some apples!
it's the best!



o and also?
GOATS.








Wednesday, August 1, 2012

great shakes!

so i've had a lot of time on my hands lately.

and you know, what they say about idle hands might be true after all.
devil's playground indeed, my little tenders, devil's playground indeed.
drumming, drumming, drumming my fingers like an impatient nanny.
fighting the urge to succumb to those nagging fears in my head telling me that the barometric headache i'm suffering from is actually a ticking time bomb, a cerebral aneurysm prancing about my brain box, waiting for the music to stop.

i'm anxiously awaiting september, when classes start again.
i'm anxiously awaiting the end of the week, when my new job begins.
i'm anxiously awaiting tomorrow, when i get to try out being a production assistant for the first time.
i'm anxiously awaiting a phone call that will tell me what equipment i'm required to pick up for said commercial shoot tomorrow.

bottom line is, folks, i'm waiting. anxiously. with bated breath, even. BATED.

waiting is a powerful beast.

so what do we do with all that time?
i've spent so much time waiting.
i've been wasting time waiting.

i am one of many in an idle population, whiling away my free time when i should be utilizing every second i have trying better myself. i should be writing lists/stories/letters, taking walks/names, exercising, cuddling small animals, doting on my honey.

but i've been playing dragons of atlantis for the last two days instead.

because, you know, i've got to keep lumber and food production up so i can rebuild my garrison and training camps, research new medicine, crush the enemy and start training some giants, ogres and titans while raising my baby egg into a soul sucking WRAITH DRAGON.  i've never been more productive in my life as i am in my fake life as elder von skimmington.  i mean, really, WHAT am i doing?  i'm procrastinating.  i'm count dillon, master overlord of procrastonia.

admittedly, i don't love the summer.  and by "i don't love the summer" i mean, i really resent it.  the sun is so mean, it's like a perpetually poking finger.  i just want to wave it away, shoo it off of the back of my head where it's glaring like the dink in the sports car who had to slow down because you pressed the crosswalk button.  so, in the summer, i just want the evenings and the sweat, but none of the sun stroke that makes me feel like crying and talking about all of my feelings all of the time.  so it's understandable that i might put some stuff off.

but times are tough, friends, times are tough.
buck up, get a running start and fly into the seething face of the sun, little icarus, because you never know when that wax is gonna melt.
life is short and i'm not going to make it any shorter.
BOOM
hear that?
that's me slamming the proverbial book closed.
time to take action.
to hell with my dragons, i'm going outside!

Sunday, July 15, 2012

interment



lay me in a shallow swale
lay beside me, pure and pale
drape me with egyptian cloth
hold my face till it falls off
if my body sighs and drips,
and if your weight should dust my hips;
pestle me into the earth
bellow now, with weighty mirth.
should i grow again in spring,
my shallow swale will flowers bring.
and if my scent asphyxiates
let rabbits eat, thus conjugate
my sickly sweet, my acid sour
brings early end, head tuck and cower.
now dim fur sheds and flesh-flies eat
my shallow swale takes in this meat.
then carrion gives rest its ghost
and i maintain my earthly post.

Monday, October 3, 2011

great interspecies connection!

o hi sweet little tenders.  so remember that time last autumn when i talked about bambi?  well.  this happened:

this was pretty great

so just in case you were wondering about autumn and whether or not it's the best - here's your proof.  also, if you were questioning life and it's endless enchantment - look no further.  it is - literally - at your fingertips.

UPDATE:
then this happened last weekend:

great again

Thursday, August 11, 2011

great lists!

this kid has got it all right
o hello my little tender ones.  it's been so long, hasn't it? well, your faithful narrator has been through a bit of a whirlwind, but i'm back to talk about more things that are great!  there is still joy.  when there is nothing else, there is the ever-present possibility for joy! life is so very short. it is heartbreaking and astounding and the point is to feel everything, isn't it?  it's what we do.  what a thing to marvel at.

so. let's get started, shall we?

let's talk about something that i have a personal obsession with: list-making. this fella has always got a handful of little post-it notes and recycled tear-ups in her back pocket of to-do's, don't-forgets, here's-a-thoughts and read-this's.

for example, i just emptied out my pocket and here i have a list of authors to read [lydia davis and amy hempel] as well as a little grocery list of red wine vinegar, PAY TUITION [not available at grocers, but certainly list-worthy. yikes!], graham crackers [for melting peanut butter and semi-sweet chocolate chips on. healthy life choices. don't mind if i do] and coffee.  now, i've just made myself a nice little cup of coffee only to discover that my cream has gone the way of the irish elk.  that is to say, brother, it's way gone.  so, do i add cream to my list?  no.  i re-write the list.  nothing fills me with a greater sense of purpose than writing a fresh new list to crumple up into the safe pit of fabric where my spheroidal ass will keep it warm and protected from the elements.  an added-to list gives one more things to stroke off.  what satisfaction!  what accomplishment!

but i've stumbled upon a new challenge.  it's called the list of 100. you can do this for anything.  you could do the list of 100 things to do before you die, or 100 things you've already done and you're still not dead, 100 things you want to say out loud, 100 people you want to touch with your hand, 100 animals you'd like to rub faces with.  the potential is limitless.  just like joy.  limitless!

it's also an excellent tool for getting those atrophied creative veins pumping again.  sit down and write a list 100 anything.  100 character ideas, 100 plots, 100 story titles, 100 opening or closing sentences.

now you may come to a bit of stalemate in the process of writing your list of 100.  you may feel that some of what you're tossing in is inane, pointless, dull as dishwater even [am i martha stewart?].  don't let that stop you.  the idea is that you work through this and come up with things that you otherwise wouldn't have.

just like i always say, my little tender ones:  i get naked, you get naked.  so. here's the beginning of my list.  in an effort to get myself writing again, i figured i should start with some titles to get me thinking.


hopefully one of these little babies will spearhead a great story that will land me in an issue of mcsweeney's!

on that note, let me leave you with one more list of to-do's:

- feel everything
- love, love, love



Saturday, April 23, 2011

great yes!

"at the side of the everlasting why, there is a yes! and a yes! and a yes!" -e.m. forster [a room with a view]

my sweet ones.
say yes.
life is short.
take the risk.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

great laugh!

laughter: the reactive force.
laughter: the performatory showing.
laughter: the cathartic chopping.
laughter: the audible expression or appearance of excitement, an inward feeling of joy or humor. 

Robert Provine [profesor de psicología y ayudante de dirección del programa de neurociencia de la universidad de maryland!] suggests that laughter is one of the first forms of communication by we humans and that laughter evolved into talking.  what a remarkable curse and blessing. 

laughter stems from the limbic system in our formidable and unhinged brains.  the limbic system deals with functions that pertain to our ability to thrive.  that is to say, it's a form of survival.  to laugh is to live, little tenders.

we humans are not the only livers-and-breathers to laugh.  our furry foreparents, current cousins and long-distance twice-removed tenders are also great laughers.  blessed be they who open their traps and howl at the great humours and joys of life.

laughter is an act of vulnerability.  an open mouth and revealed neck is a great risk in the animal kingdom.  it's a great risk in our weighty little kingdom too.  it's a kill shot.  but honey, ain't we precious.  don't we just love to see an exposed neck full and strained from the horn of laughter?  doesn't this release, this vibrating sing-song of pure, unsullied joy make you feel like you're a part of something magical?  because you are!

so laugh.
my sweet tenders, if there is nothing else in this world, let there be laughter.
let there be a great howling amongst us.
let there be joy!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

great people!

green beer is for suckers, guys.
chin up, feet forward.
fists to yourselves, please.
keep grinning, little tender ones.
sing a song, make a toast, kiss your neighbour.
try not to be a douche bag on the day reserved for my glorious people.

here are some famous quotes by irish people:
"that's my breakfast lunch and dinner right there." - colin farrell in reference to the vagina [sheath or scabbard, whaaaaaaaat?].
i'll stop there.  i can't imagine continuing after that little gem.

may we all be alive this time next year!