The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer. ...
... And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
Dylan Thomas
12 comments:
Anonymous
said...
Love your photos and the combined effect of language and imagery.
Found your blog in a rather roundabout way (a cat lovers' blog list that included Paisley Belle, who blogs for the Whippy Curly Tails). I thought I'd add a comment, because you are the first person I've seen whose Blogger profile mentions both Bach AND The Once and Future King. Wyrd Sisters is merely icing on the cake...
I read The Once and Future King over and over (I think 5 times) when I was about 12 years old, and decided I needed a falcon.
Went to your site and just started to browse your links. Love the Surrealist Compliment Generator. http://www.madsci.org/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/~lynn/jardin/SCG
Tart, thanks for sharing the fun! That Red was about one block away from that Grey. Back behind some threadbare hodge-podge stores in lovely old Buda Texas. (And tons of beige-box suburban strip malls about two miles away, but suspect they've got their own surreal treasures hidden as well.)
Have you read The Once and Future King since you were a child? I read it in my early 20s and it made a lasting impression, perhaps more profound than Tolkien.
Did you get your falcon btw?
My links are not very up-to-date, I'm afraid. One of my favourites is HotAir... A link waiting to be refreshed is for the Web Gallery of Art, the new address is http://www.wga.hu
I'm off now to falcons, owls, perches and geese (it's 4 a.m. where I live),
And the mice with the mansion invited the plants to come and stay. A plant needs a home as much as a mouse, and everybody knows tree's are generous with their greenery. The mice are kind of spirit and only take because they do not understand why you wouldn't want to give. They also speak in very small sentences. The mice understand that giving a tree a home means certain tragedy. A green shrub in a red wall will be a grey tree destroying a metal wall one day. The tree destroys one and becomes one. The mice. Like. Umm. They like (twitch twitch). yes. We like... The poetry...
Agnes, hope you have merry dreams full of raptors. (Never got to do falconry, but sure enjoy watching the red-tailed hawks skrying and wheeling on updrafts.)
And ThomP, when I Googled "mouse poem" I mostly got Robert Burns. Dug a little deeper and found this -- apologies in advance to the Mouse Kingdom, but the Owl was pretty and feral too. Will make it up to. The. Mice. I. Swear.
*** FROM Mary Oliver's Little Owl Who Lives in the Orchard
His beak could open a bottle, and his eyes - when he lifts their soft lids - go on reading something just beyond your shoulder - Blake, maybe, or the Book of Revelation.
Never mind that he eats only the black-smocked crickets, and the dragonflies if they happen to be out late over the ponds, and of course the occasional festal mouse.
Lori, thanks for your comments, they're much appreciated. You've got some gorgeous pictures here. And you can quote me Dylan Thomas any time! Wonderful.
12 comments:
Love your photos and the combined effect of language and imagery.
Found your blog in a rather roundabout way
(a cat lovers' blog list that included Paisley Belle, who blogs for the Whippy Curly Tails). I thought I'd add a comment, because you are the first person I've seen whose Blogger profile mentions both Bach AND The Once and Future King. Wyrd Sisters is merely icing on the cake...
All the best, Agnes
Blood red bricks can't stop the wicked ways of the green mother earth. Makes me think of Briar Rose & Red White... hmmmm... off to la la land I go.
You are right about that thread... am JUST leav'in it be time to move on to more fertile string.
Smooch,
The Tart
I am remiss in my fairy tale comment... it's Snow White & Rose Red.. but there is a Briar Rose... Oh well...
Anyway, the bricks make me think of all the pricess stuff... BTW... have you ever seen Into the Woods? Great play.
Smooch,
The Tart
Ps.. where was this photo taken, that red is just great!
Agnes, welcome to my blog!
I read The Once and Future King over and over (I think 5 times) when I was about 12 years old, and decided I needed a falcon.
Went to your site and just started to browse your links. Love the Surrealist Compliment Generator.
http://www.madsci.org/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/~lynn/jardin/SCG
Tart, thanks for sharing the fun!
That Red was about one block away from that Grey. Back behind some threadbare hodge-podge stores in lovely old Buda Texas. (And tons of beige-box suburban strip malls about two miles away, but suspect they've got their own surreal treasures hidden as well.)
Have you read The Once and Future King since you were a child? I read it in my early 20s and it made a lasting impression, perhaps more profound than Tolkien.
Did you get your falcon btw?
My links are not very up-to-date, I'm afraid. One of my favourites is HotAir...
A link waiting to be refreshed is for the Web Gallery of Art, the new address is http://www.wga.hu
I'm off now to falcons, owls, perches and geese (it's 4 a.m. where I live),
regards,
Agnes
And the mice with the mansion invited the plants to come and stay. A plant needs a home as much as a mouse, and everybody knows tree's are generous with their greenery. The mice are kind of spirit and only take because they do not understand why you wouldn't want to give. They also speak in very small sentences. The mice understand that giving a tree a home means certain tragedy. A green shrub in a red wall will be a grey tree destroying a metal wall one day. The tree destroys one and becomes one. The mice. Like. Umm. They like (twitch twitch). yes. We like... The poetry...
Shane, glad to spark even more light in you.
Agnes, hope you have merry dreams full of raptors. (Never got to do falconry, but sure enjoy watching the red-tailed hawks skrying and wheeling on updrafts.)
And ThomP, when I Googled "mouse poem" I mostly got Robert Burns. Dug a little deeper and found this -- apologies in advance to the Mouse Kingdom, but the Owl was pretty and feral too. Will make it up to. The. Mice. I. Swear.
***
FROM
Mary Oliver's
Little Owl Who Lives in the Orchard
His beak could open a bottle,
and his eyes - when he lifts their soft lids -
go on reading something
just beyond your shoulder -
Blake, maybe,
or the Book of Revelation.
Never mind that he eats only
the black-smocked crickets,
and the dragonflies if they happen
to be out late over the ponds, and of course
the occasional festal mouse.
***
Cool, huh?
That is so cool. And im. Well yes. Very sure. That yes. Them. Those mice. They'll forgive you:)
These are amazing photography!! Beautiful!! WOW!
Lori, thanks for your comments, they're much appreciated. You've got some gorgeous pictures here. And you can quote me Dylan Thomas any time! Wonderful.
This is a beautiful post. I love the word and image synergy. I am totally grooving on the sentiment.
Sigh.
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