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Okay, now that I have typed the phrase busy bee, all I can think of is that scene in Gladiator where Commodus has reached a-place-that-is-beyond-creepy and he calls Lucillia a busy bee. I always want to scream at Lucillia to just grab her kid and leave the palace.
But I wanted to pop in for a minute to once again apologize for not posting and to assure you that I am still alive and well! I’ve been in over my head in events, planning and projects. The picture above shows the sewing project I’ve been working on – 20+ Shakespearean shirts for a middle school production of Taming of the Shrew. Ooo, ooo, that Shakespearean rag. . .
And to add to the randomness of this post, here is a poem for you:
MORNING AT THE WINDOW
by: T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)
THEY are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,
And along the trampled edges of the street
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids
Sprouting despondently at area gates.
The brown waves of fog toss up to me
Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,
And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts
An aimless smile that hovers in the air
And vanishes along the level of the roofs.
My roommate found this video produced by BBC. Apparently they have a whole series of Horrible Histories – I thought this one was particularly funny!
Two items of note: 1) Film above is the story of Dick Turpin which is romanticized by William Harrison Ainsworth in his novel Black Bess, of The Knight of the Road. 2) In case you were wondering, from what I can tell the poem The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes is based in Scotland, not England, on a generic highwayman character, not Dick Turpin, but I could be wrong.
P.S. Did you know that Alfred Noyes converted to Catholicism?
It’s a beautiful day! I think I see some wine tasting in my future, a little art, and perhaps a comet? Who knows!
Sunday I took a trip to the National Gallery of Art to see Michelangelo’s David-Apollo , It’s called the David-Apollo because they aren’t sure who it is exactly. I think it is a David, he doesn’t seem Apollo-esque enough to me.
This statue was on loan from the Bargello in Florence. I have seen the statue in Florence before, but I figured I’d go see it again. It’s like when a good friend comes to town you make sure you stop by and say hello during their visit.
To top the visit off, there was an amazing piano trio playing later that evening for which I was able to stay! (FYI: a piano trio means that there is a piano and two other instruments, usually a cello and violin, all playing together. It doesn’t mean a trio of pianos.)
Update: Just found this article by Simcha Fisher on children and and their take on art. Loved it!
So I stumbled across this piece by Benjamin Britten, called Friday Afternoon op. #7 (Cuckoo). I guess it was used in Moonrise Kingdom, the film by Wes Anderson, which I haven’t seen yet and I mean to soon.
Anyway, I love this bit so much I made it my alarm. It’s perfect! I love waking up to it. I love it so much that I press snooze several times so I can hear it again and again (never mind that I would be pressing snooze anyway).
Being sick has a few perks, I can watch TV and not feel too bad (as John Muir’s Wilderness Essays glare at me from the shelf. Sorry Muir, your essays are dull. I’ll finish them someday). Yesterday I watched the ballet documentary First Position on Netflix, it was so good! I mean, it wasn’t anything I wasn’t already aware of, it was just a good documentary. And I loved the dancing. Michaela dePrince is amazing!
Another great feast day! Happy feast of St. John of the Cross – his poetry is so beautiful! Enjoy! (Plus with a poem about the night like this, doesn’t it seem appropriate that there is a meteor shower sheduled on St. John’s feast?)
|On A Dark Night by St. John of the Cross
On a dark night,
In darkness and secure,
In the happy night,
This light guided me
Oh, night that guided me,
Upon my flowery breast,
The breeze blew from the turret
I remained, lost in oblivion;
Happy feast of St. Lucy! I found this painting by Domenico Veneziano, but I am not sure it is the right St. Lucy simply because she still has her eyes (they were put out as torture before she was killed), but then I don’t know everything about St. Lucy.
This necklace is so cool! It would be like wearing the Milky Way!
And while we are on the topic of the Milky Way, can I just say that is the best name ever for our galaxy? We name the planets after gods, which is great and all, but we call our galaxy via lactea - poetry wins the day again!