Archive for the ‘elephants’ category
Summer begins in earnest (with Elephant and Dog)
June 20, 2012Barefoot Elephant Run?
June 11, 2012
This is not meant as a serious promotion of any shoe company, shoe, or non-shoe. It’s just me waxing amazed.
About two months ago, when my feet were especially sore and bulbous (I have weird misshapen bones), I bumbled into some “barefoot” running shoes. I bought them because any real running shoe hurt.
The barefoot shoes hurt too at first. Getting used to them takes time. They make you run on your toes/balls of your feet – a new sensation for plodding me, and difficult at first.
And frankly, even after giving the shoes time, it is hard not to be dubious. They are so thin, like a second rubbery skin; they are ugly, like Hobbit’s feet; and they aren’t so great for just plain walking. So, it’s a bit hard to believe that they are not secretly hurting your joints.
And yet, and yet, they are just so much fun. Fun enough that they have turned me into sort of a runner–a slow, and not very far, but very light-footed (at least, I feel light footed), enthusiastic runner.
And so, I am waxing amazed – my friend up above too, who, unlike me, had to buy TWO pairs.
Incredibly weird, right?!
Dog, Turtle, Elephant (In Dry Scape) Kind of Day
May 30, 2012
Plan (That Sounds Good Tonight) – Wake Up Early!
May 21, 2012
What I’m Planning For Tomorrow
Another day with very little free time to get new poems right.
But just happened upon something I could do right – right now at least. Go to bed! Then wake up early!
(And get everything done then.) (Ha!)
(Isn’t it wonderful how a plan to do something later frees up the present?!)
Have a nice night.
(P.S. – thanks all for the very kind comments. I will return them soon.)
Encountering Old Friends When Looking For a Ukulele
May 18, 2012
I was very proud today, when my visiting daughter was looking for our ukulele, to be able to direct her immediately to an old box that was never unpacked after our last move several years ago.
Amazingly enough when she pulled the box down from the top of a closet, we saw the word “ukulele” scribbled on one flap.
Even more amazing was the fact that the ukulele was actually IN the box.
And beneath the ukulele, on top of a three games of Monopoly and one of a Scrabble, was an old sketch pad that included a series of drawings and paintings I did for a yet unpublished children’s book.
I’d almost completely forgotten about the book. It is about–you guessed it–a couple of elephants, a dog, and a yoga mouse.
They reunite above.
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Join me at dVerse Poets Pub tomorrow where I am hosting the Poetics Prompt. I’d give you a hint of the prompt, but I’m not completely sure yet! Come to dVerse and check it out!!!!
Danced Out
May 16, 2012
Exhaustion strikes, but in a good way. This exhaustion comes from dancing with a nearly 90-year old woman (my mom)–I call it dancing, and I say it’s with her. This is not accurate: -it was dancing a couple of feet behind with arms outstretched to catch her in case of a fall.
My mother grew up in a time and family in which people didn’t really touch. Everything about them was northern; and the times were harsh. As a result, touch is somewhat distracting to her, an imposition rather than support. (It’s a bit of a tussle to take her arm even when crossing a busy street.)
And yet, there was dancing. With. Her. Of a sort. (One two three four, one two three four–she counts time aloud with quiet absorption as she moves. I hate to say that I think the song was a waltz.)
A magnificent sort.
Music–it enlivens/energizes/lightens the body and soul.
(One two three four, one two three four, one two threeeeeeee.)
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I am linking this post to Imperfect Prose, run by Emily Wieranga. The dancing came about, in part, because I just got a speaker for my computer so that my visiting quite- deaf mother could actually hear some of the music on my iTunes. She liked it a lot.
Any Bidders?
May 2, 2012
Sotheby’s auctioned Edvard Munch’s The Scream for nearly $119.9 million today, the most ever paid for an art work at auction. I am pretty sure that I can get you the above (elephant included) wholesale.
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I am linking this post to Emily Wieranga’s Imperfect Prose. Yes, I know, there’s precious little prose, but Emily asks for descriptions of things that are broken, and honestly, as much as I love Edvard Munch (I do), and art of all kinds (absolutely), I also think 120 million is a bit out of whack. It turns art into a commodity instead of an expression and overvalues certain popular pieces and artists while undervaluing others. Also, it causes viewers to see dollar signs rather than images. All that said, congrats to the seller, Peter Olsen, Norwegian businessman and shipping heir, whose father was actually a friend, neighbor and patron of Munch.
Last Day of National Poetry Month! (April!)
April 30, 2012
At The End of National Poetry Month
I am linking this old post to With Real Toads, where Kerry promises that the Real Toads crew will do thirty prompts in thirty days for National Poetry Month. I’ve written a poem a day in April for the last few years – and since the Toads prompt today is about what April means to a poet, I thought of linking this. The poem at least is short – apologies for the discursive beginning.
Today is the last day of this year’s National Poetry Month. As in the last couple of years, I’ve tried to write a new draft poem every day of the month. I hope that even the not-so-good ones have provided some fun for readers, even if that fun was at my expense!
One of the great things about an exercise like this (to my mind) is that it helps debunk the notion of the muse.
People/poets/writers/artists can get very attached to the idea of a muse–this shadowy presence that comes and goes and makes them feel special.
To me, a rather plodding sort of person, the muse is mainly a combination of attention and determination.
Attention to what is going on outside; attention, too, to all the little pokes and prods inside.
Then there’s the determination to take notes of what you’ve paid attention to, and, once you’ve taken the notes, to reshape them in the sometimes harsh (sometimes way too indiscriminate) light of your computer screen.
The advantage of an exercise like writing a poem a day is that you just can’t wait for the muse to come your way. You simply have to get down to attending and determining!
As my final homage to National Poetry Month 2012, I am re-posting my April 30 poem from 2011:
End of National Poetry Month Haiku
Some say that April is the
cruelest month. They must
be people who write poems.
Thanks so much for checking in!
Nice Family Visit (Game Night) (With Elephants)
March 14, 2012
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