Saturday, August 27, 2011

Satia Sampler Saturday

This has actually been a productive week for me.  I was asked to write a piece for another person's blog quite some time ago and finally pulled it together.  I wrote content for the upcoming issue of the Wellness & Writing Connections newsletter.  I wrote some poems and I'm thinking of giving myself a new writing challenge for September.  Anyway, I threw together a rough draft of a spoken word piece.  I say "rough" to emphasize that I haven't read this aloud to work out the kinks so there may be points where it's off.  I also don't think that my allusions are obvious enough and most people reading/hearing it wouldn't catch enough of the implications.  So definitely a first draft vision in need of revision.  Enjoy!



I’m hearing it again, that same ca-ca-cadence,
unbreaking away from how we’ve been saying things for more twenty years.
The coming and pound of typical syncopation where the message sounds the same,
although the words are different, finding familiar rhymes and unshocking value
in words like “fuck” and “cunt" and shouting them out louder than loud
because we want to be heard because we believe we have something to say.

Really, what’s the point if we say it the same way anyway?
The hews and cries that stand up at the mic offer nothing new.
This is not jazz.
This is not another renaissance.
This is not some new beat.
This is the same song with
Different lyrics but, like disco,
Beating the same damn beat
Droning the same angst to the same drum line
Damning then hip hopping nowhere
To the same tired ca-ca-cadence.

Can’t you feel it?
The beats turn away tired as we all dance to the same beat so mindlessly,
Shouting approbation for meaningless oration about someone’s aggravation
Because we all have reason to be angry
Because we’re white or not, homo or straight or none of the above,
Love our leaders, hate our leaders, wish there were more readers,
Calling everyone else another bottom feeder when we feed everyone
The same rhythm with the same rhyme claiming its our line.
Anger itself is so soulless but let the open mic stand and some host will soon introduce
Yet another angry young/old man/woman ready to shout rage outrageously with tired rhymes
Like "outrageously outraged" which should make us rage but merely express our age.

Isn’t twenty years long enough for something new to be borne?
Don’t you long to hear a different rhyme and rhythm beat?
Or are you happy strutting your dance to the same tired cadence?

When will the door slam shut until something new is heard?

Thursday, August 25, 2011

I've been waking up with the same song stuck in my head for days and days. Finally this morning it was replaced with something new and I've been singing this all morning long.



Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Wondrous Words Wednesday

Image from this site.
From Mansfield Park by Jane Austen 

I said to the boy directly—(a great lubberly fellow of ten years old you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself,) I’ll take the boards to your father, Dick. . . . (145) 

From Merriam-Webster.com
lubber
1. a big clumsy fellow
2. a clumsy seaman

I'd often heard this term--land lubber and even the use of the word lubberly--but never bothered to look it up because I assumed a land lubber was a lover of the land, one without sea legs and likely to fall while on a ship.  So I assumed "lubberly" meant a clumsy person but I looked it up and I was right.
Image from this site.

Also from Mansfield Park by Jane Austen


. . . and she had fondly hoped for such an immediate éclaircissement as might save him the trouble of ever coming back.  (197)

éclaircissement
A clearing up of something obscure: enlightenment

What I find so fascinating is now there is in my mind an association between chocolate éclairs and enlightenment.  Interestingly enough (or so it seems to me), the French éclair originally meant lightning.  Does it still mean lightning?  So I looked it up here.  Yes it does.  It’s first definition is “flash of lightning” followed by éclair de genie meaning flash of genius.  I confess,  I think the pastry chef who first produced an éclair was absolutely a genius and there have been times I have sought enlightenment in eating food.  I think I’ve fallen in love with this word.

Cresset
Image from this site.
From The Waves by Virginia Woolf



. . . I shall never see savages in Tahiti spearing fish by the light of a blazing cresset, or a lion spring in the jungle, or a naked man eating raw flesh. (186)

From Merriam-Webster.com
cresset

an iron vessel or basket used for holding an illuminant (as oil) and mounted as a torch or suspended as a lantern


Interestingly enough, you can still buy yourself a cresset, if you would like do to so.  Simply follow the link in the caption and it will take you to a website where you can add one to your collection.

Rooftops of Geneva, Switzerland, seen from the top of cathedral Stock Photo - 3532294
Image from this site.
Also from The Waves by Virginia Woolf


The scrannel beauties of the roof-tops repel me.  (220)

scrannel
harsh, unmelodious

I thought this was an interesting use of a word that would almost immediately call to mind sound rather than a visual effect but there is something to be said about how the rooftops of a building can create a sort of visual harmony.  When I was growing up, I though the skyline of Manhattan was wonderful until the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers were added.  Now, of course, all I see is their absence.  And I suppose this has nothing to do with the original quote nor the usage of scrannel but my mind wanders.

Image from this site.
Last but absolutely not least, from The Waves by Virginia Woolf



Then I scoff at the floridity and absurdity of some scrolloping tomb; and the trumpets and victories and the coats of arms and the certainty, so sonorously repeated, of resurrection, of eternal life.  (282)



Scrolloping
Fanciful portmanteau formation by Virginia Woolf, prob. combining scroll n., lollop v., etc.

Now how could I resist sharing this word created by Virginia Woolf herself?  It’s a wonderful one, don’t you think?  Finding an image to complement it was merely a bit of fun for me—that is Catherine Parr’s resting place and since I’ve long been a bit of a Tudor freak it seemed fitting to use this image as an example of scrolloping.  

Reiki treatment in the news

Reiki treatment in the news

It's been a while since I've shared some Reiki links because, truth be told, I haven't found any interesting or reliable ones in a while.

But this one makes up for that, I think. Lots of links to explore.

Edit


Here are two more I wanted to share.

A Question for you about the Reiki Precepts

Thinking About Becoming a Reiki Practitioner?

Funny how weeks go by without a single quality article or blog post and so many come up together.  

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Quote of the Day

Text sent to my son by me:

It scares me that I know what VF5FS means.


Son's reply:

It shows you know me.


My response:

I think that scares me more.