Wonderful week, brilliant weekend, and the empress turns 32!
And is back to carpe-ing the diem, every last particle of it!!
The empress still likes Emily Dickinson and her ilk, and mournful poetry, but from the vantage point of merely Enjoying Mournful Poetry, not living it.
What a relief to get back to the sunny side of life again! My place in the sun, as it were (though not the Montgomery Clift kind.. see, I told you I like noir, but I just shan't be living noir anymore!)
La vie est belle, vraiment.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
In which the Empress turns to Emily Dickinson
Heart, we will forget him,
You and I, tonight!
You must forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done pray tell me,
Then I, my thoughts, will dim.
Haste! ‘lest while you’re lagging
I may remember him!
What a cracking good idea.. to just forget! These poets knew what they were talking about!
You and I, tonight!
You must forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done pray tell me,
Then I, my thoughts, will dim.
Haste! ‘lest while you’re lagging
I may remember him!
What a cracking good idea.. to just forget! These poets knew what they were talking about!
Friday, December 10, 2010
The process
I wonder what John Lennon would have thought of Assange.
I wonder what he'd have made of Mark Zuckerberg, and the social networking phenomenon!
****************
What do you do when one last dying ember ends up escaping from many years ago, and messes you up like an icy glass splinter, and then the splinter sort of shatters within you. You didn't want that ember coming back into your life, you'd moved on beautifully well, you were ecstatically happy with your life, and even then it managed to sneak right back into you. You still welcomed it, politely, hesitantly at first, and then, wholeheartedly, unabashedly, as if the ember stood for all of destiny, and it was meant to happen precisely that way. And right about that time, without warning, that warm spark, that half-revived ember suddenly morphed into a cold shard of ice, a glass splinter that messed with your mind and your soul and your heart, and reduced you to writing dumb meaningless prose about dying embers and frozen splinters.
What do you do? You just end up looking immensely stupid with egg on your face, and you lose sight of the good things about life, the things that were (and will be) precious to you, before this stray, rogue ember decided to shake things up and play around with you, just like that.
What do you do? You end up introspecting, thinking about what's really important to you. You know that integrity and respect is something you'd never give up, no matter what, and you're actually glad your faith in yourself is reaffirmed.
You also end up counting your (many) blessings: your almost charmed life, your family and friends with their staunch, untiring support while constantly reaffirming that the path you chose was the correct one, your work, your belief system, your unwavering spiritual faith.
And you even know you'll find it in your heart to forgive the ember, eventually.
And that's when you start going back to the beautiful business of living, and loving life. You start falling in love with the sea and the sun and the stars all over again, you notice all the beauty around you, and you know you'll always find peace when you choose to look for it.
***************
Oh wait! I was supposed to write about Lennon and Assange, and Nixon and Hoover and Palin and Liu Xiaobo and Bahadur Shah Zafar and modern day imperialists and double-standards!
Heh, maybe another time!
I wonder what he'd have made of Mark Zuckerberg, and the social networking phenomenon!
****************
What do you do when one last dying ember ends up escaping from many years ago, and messes you up like an icy glass splinter, and then the splinter sort of shatters within you. You didn't want that ember coming back into your life, you'd moved on beautifully well, you were ecstatically happy with your life, and even then it managed to sneak right back into you. You still welcomed it, politely, hesitantly at first, and then, wholeheartedly, unabashedly, as if the ember stood for all of destiny, and it was meant to happen precisely that way. And right about that time, without warning, that warm spark, that half-revived ember suddenly morphed into a cold shard of ice, a glass splinter that messed with your mind and your soul and your heart, and reduced you to writing dumb meaningless prose about dying embers and frozen splinters.
What do you do? You just end up looking immensely stupid with egg on your face, and you lose sight of the good things about life, the things that were (and will be) precious to you, before this stray, rogue ember decided to shake things up and play around with you, just like that.
What do you do? You end up introspecting, thinking about what's really important to you. You know that integrity and respect is something you'd never give up, no matter what, and you're actually glad your faith in yourself is reaffirmed.
You also end up counting your (many) blessings: your almost charmed life, your family and friends with their staunch, untiring support while constantly reaffirming that the path you chose was the correct one, your work, your belief system, your unwavering spiritual faith.
And you even know you'll find it in your heart to forgive the ember, eventually.
And that's when you start going back to the beautiful business of living, and loving life. You start falling in love with the sea and the sun and the stars all over again, you notice all the beauty around you, and you know you'll always find peace when you choose to look for it.
***************
Oh wait! I was supposed to write about Lennon and Assange, and Nixon and Hoover and Palin and Liu Xiaobo and Bahadur Shah Zafar and modern day imperialists and double-standards!
Heh, maybe another time!
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