(no subject)
For the past few nights right before I have fallen asleep, I have had a recurring waking dream of sorts...it could very well be a dream as it has all the characteristics of one aside from the fact that I'm completely aware of not being asleep yet.
I'm on an old fishing boat speeding somewhere out in the middle of a Scandinavian sea. I'm on the back of the boat looking out at the expanse of black water encrusted with shimmering chunks of ice, and we're in the middle of a violent storm. Gusts of wind and sea attack me from all angles, but I'm just staring out at the sea moving out from underneath us. Then I begin throwing peacock feathers out one by one out into the sea. Despite the harshness of the storm, the feathers seem to just rest upon the water without the slightest thrash from the water they're on. I become disembodied in some way and follow the first feather I threw out. I just follow it as it floats upon the water for miles. The last thing I see is a peacock feather surrounded by nothing but black water and ice under a heaven of rainclouds.
I got a haircut last Saturday, and I'm still surprised that I haven't taken any pictures of it. It's by far one of the best haircuts I've ever had in my life. I've been getting comments from absolute strangers frequently. I chopped a lot of it off. I didn't really have a good idea of what I wanted when I got there except that I was leaning towards a modern-type of bob. Short hair is perfect when the weather is warm. Anyway, about four or five inches were removed and I now have a shaggy A-line bob with bangs. For lack of an actual photograph, here is what I look like in dolly form, only not nearly as cute:
For those of you who would like to make your own vomit-inducingly adorable dolly version of yourself, here is the link. They taste like sunshine jelly!
I don't know what it is about May, but I always start craving chicken. I ended my six year stint with complete vegetarianism last Memorial Day when I had some of the best BBQ chicken ever. This sudden craving for chicken could quite possibly be attributed to the sudden emergence of barbeque's once the weather starts getting warm. I tried going back to not eating meat (I only eat chicken and fish), specifically chicken. I was successful for about a month until somebody at my work offered me some popcorn chicken from KFC. Those tiny morsels of processed chicken-y goodness are like God melting in your mouth.
An old man came into my work yesterday looking for a couple of poetry anthologies edited by one specific writer. After helping him find what he needed, he asked me if he could read me a couple of lines from one poem in particular that he had recently become intrigued with, but all I heard was something about a couple of lines and just smiled and pretended I knew what he said (I do that a lot). A couple of moments later, he asked me again if I wanted to hear those two lines. I realized what he said and encouraged him to go ahead.
Old man: So, tell me what you think of this. 'Let be be the finale of seem.'
Me: WALLACE STEVENS! That's one of my favourite poems!
Old man: You know that poem? So you know the next line?
Me: 'The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.'
I still can't believe that this old man just happened to come into my work and read two lines (the first one being my favourite) from a poem that really isn't too well known, but also happens to be one of my favourites. So we talked about the poem for a while...I told him the story behind it, of which he was not familiar with. It was just really unexpected...we totally made each others day in such a small way.
The Emperor of Ice-Cream
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
-Wallace Stevens
I think one really needs to know the background of this poem to truly appreciate it, so Here it is if anybody is interested.
The only god of this world is the cold god of persistent life and appetite; and I must look steadily at this repellent but true tableau - the animal life in the kitchen, the corpse in the back bedroom. Life offers no other tableaus of reality, once we pierce beneath appearances.
I'm on an old fishing boat speeding somewhere out in the middle of a Scandinavian sea. I'm on the back of the boat looking out at the expanse of black water encrusted with shimmering chunks of ice, and we're in the middle of a violent storm. Gusts of wind and sea attack me from all angles, but I'm just staring out at the sea moving out from underneath us. Then I begin throwing peacock feathers out one by one out into the sea. Despite the harshness of the storm, the feathers seem to just rest upon the water without the slightest thrash from the water they're on. I become disembodied in some way and follow the first feather I threw out. I just follow it as it floats upon the water for miles. The last thing I see is a peacock feather surrounded by nothing but black water and ice under a heaven of rainclouds.
I got a haircut last Saturday, and I'm still surprised that I haven't taken any pictures of it. It's by far one of the best haircuts I've ever had in my life. I've been getting comments from absolute strangers frequently. I chopped a lot of it off. I didn't really have a good idea of what I wanted when I got there except that I was leaning towards a modern-type of bob. Short hair is perfect when the weather is warm. Anyway, about four or five inches were removed and I now have a shaggy A-line bob with bangs. For lack of an actual photograph, here is what I look like in dolly form, only not nearly as cute:
For those of you who would like to make your own vomit-inducingly adorable dolly version of yourself, here is the link. They taste like sunshine jelly!
I don't know what it is about May, but I always start craving chicken. I ended my six year stint with complete vegetarianism last Memorial Day when I had some of the best BBQ chicken ever. This sudden craving for chicken could quite possibly be attributed to the sudden emergence of barbeque's once the weather starts getting warm. I tried going back to not eating meat (I only eat chicken and fish), specifically chicken. I was successful for about a month until somebody at my work offered me some popcorn chicken from KFC. Those tiny morsels of processed chicken-y goodness are like God melting in your mouth.
An old man came into my work yesterday looking for a couple of poetry anthologies edited by one specific writer. After helping him find what he needed, he asked me if he could read me a couple of lines from one poem in particular that he had recently become intrigued with, but all I heard was something about a couple of lines and just smiled and pretended I knew what he said (I do that a lot). A couple of moments later, he asked me again if I wanted to hear those two lines. I realized what he said and encouraged him to go ahead.
Old man: So, tell me what you think of this. 'Let be be the finale of seem.'
Me: WALLACE STEVENS! That's one of my favourite poems!
Old man: You know that poem? So you know the next line?
Me: 'The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.'
I still can't believe that this old man just happened to come into my work and read two lines (the first one being my favourite) from a poem that really isn't too well known, but also happens to be one of my favourites. So we talked about the poem for a while...I told him the story behind it, of which he was not familiar with. It was just really unexpected...we totally made each others day in such a small way.
The Emperor of Ice-Cream
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
-Wallace Stevens
I think one really needs to know the background of this poem to truly appreciate it, so Here it is if anybody is interested.
The only god of this world is the cold god of persistent life and appetite; and I must look steadily at this repellent but true tableau - the animal life in the kitchen, the corpse in the back bedroom. Life offers no other tableaus of reality, once we pierce beneath appearances.