I am still making order out of chaos by reinvention.
– John Le Carre
Greetings from the beautiful North West… (1:00 PM)
With the passing of Beltane, and on the cusp of the full moon, the day is of exceptional beauty. Blue skies, forever it looks like, and a very pleasant 70f out. The streets are full of people, babies, dogs, bicyclist, kids, dancers, and young and old lovers. It is a sight to see when all the doors of Portland open up and spill the inhabitants onto the streets!
I have been giving Rowan driving lessons down in the inner S.E. in the old industrial section. So far, so good. I think he might make a good one. He seems to have the proper amount of caution built in, and he is eager to learn.
We have had a week of friends coming by, Ginnie and Terry came by for dinner, Joanne O., stopped by for some shared strategic ruminations, Ally and Austyn were by to see Rowan, and James K. is coming down from Seattle today to visit for a bit. The sense of the summer flow through Caer Llwydd is beginning to build…
It has been a wacky week (and even wackier year so far). We have been scrambling to make ends meet, and it is a bit like jumping from tussock to tussock in a bog. I have a better grasp on it; the national numbers for unemployment for people involved in construction puts the numbers at 21%. I venture that it is higher, as the agencies try to downplay what is really going on. It seems no one needs painters at this point, so we are trying to figure out what we are going to do to keep our local ball of wax going. Lots of money coming in from the Feds, but not for the self employed, but for more track for the local light rail. (which I applaud, but it does zip for the painters I have to say)
So far, we are looking at web work, and at throwing our hats into the ever dwindling grants ring for arts. If you are somewhat local, and you need something done give us a call! 80) Everything will be considered!
I have never seen a dry spell like this, and it looks like a drought from here on out for awhile. I know we are at the beginning of great changes, but it is a tad uncomfortable at this point in Oregon….
This week I have been working on Gwyllm-Arts.com… please see below…
(!0:00PM) Had a great day with James K., went and saw Patrick at a recording session, he brought a very talented guy, Synon over from Turkey for his new album… Amazing stuff.
Bright Blessings
Gwyllm
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There is an electric fire in human nature tending to purify – so that among these human creatures there is continually some birth of new heroism. The pity is that we must wonder at it, as we should at finding a pearl in rubbish.
-John Keats
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On The Menu:
The Links
Ralph Vaughan Williams: The Lark Ascending
The Quotes
The Tiger, the Brahman and the Jackal
Poetry: Your Body – My Kabbalah – Elise Cowen
Ralph Vaughan Williams: Tallis Fantasia
Artist: Elihu Vedder
Elihu Vedder Bio
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Re-Invention:Gwyllm-Arts.com
So over the last weekend and into the early week, I worked on re-inventing Gwyllm-Arts.com.
We have several new sections, including paintings, downloads, prints, etc. It has been a task coding everything again, and I have another re-write to go, but you can really see (I think) what direction it is going in. I am pretty happy with it. I was thinking of putting a feed from Turfing to there, but enough is enough. Next thing ya know I will be putting music videos on it as well… 80)
Let’s go over some of the new features:
Prints: You can now buy prints at a very good price, choosing from either high-end digital reproductions to giclée prints. These are not limited reproductions so the pricing is pretty sweet! We have a wide selection.
Paintings: For the first time in several years There is an actual gallery up. It gives a good snap shot of the work I have been doing with brush and airbrush, not all of them mind you but more than I have ever posted before.
Downloads: Free stuff for your desk top, which will be updated frequently. We have 3 pieces right now that are pretty sweet!
Coming Attractions: Post- Cards & Cards… we will soon have a selection for you in various groupings and formats.
If nothing else, take some time for a visit!
Cheers – G
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The Links:
Mysterious Emissions In Cumbria…
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Ralph Vaughan Williams…. I can’t count the hours I have listened to his pieces. I love his works, and the beauty they unfold – G
Ralph Vaughan Williams: The Lark Ascending
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The Quotes:
Antoine de Saint-Exupery | “Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.”
Clare Booth Luce | “Lying increases the creative faculties, expands the ego, and lessens the frictions of social contacts.”
Wilson Mizner | “A good listener is not only popular everywhere, but after a while he gets to know something.”
William Feather | “Setting a good example for children takes all the fun out of middle age.”
Frank Dane | “Get all the fools on your side and you can be elected to anything.”
Rita Holt | “There it was, hidden in alphabetical order.”
John Andrew Holmes | “Speech is conveniently located midway between thought and action, where it often substitutes for both.”
Noel Coward | “Television is for appearing on – not for looking at.”
Richard Feynman | “We are at the very beginning of time for the human race. It is not unreasonable that we grapple with problems. But there are tens of thousands of years in the future. Our responsibility is to do what we can, learn what we can, improve the solutions, and pass them on.”
Stephen Leacock | “Advertising may be described as the science of arresting the human intelligence long enough to get money from it.”
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The Tiger, the Brahman and the Jackal
Once upon a time, a tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed.
By chance a poor Brahman came by.
“Let me out of this cage, oh pious one!” cried the tiger.
“Nay, my friend,” replied the Brahman mildly, “you would probably eat me if I did.”
“Not at all!” swore the tiger with many oaths; “on the contrary, I should be for ever grateful, and serve you as a slave!”
Now when the tiger sobbed and sighed and wept and swore, the pious Brahman’s heart softened, and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried, “What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!”
In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life; the most he could gain was a promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the tiger’s action.
So the Brahman first asked a papal- tree what it thought of the matter, but the papal-tree replied coldly, “What have you to complain about? Don’t I give shade and shelter to every one who passes by, and don’t they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don’t whimper–be a man!”
Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went further afield till he saw a buffalo turning a well-wheel; but he fared no better from it, for it answered, “You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! Whilst I gave milk they fed me on cotton-seed and oil-cake, but now I am dry they yoke me here, and give me refuse as fodder!”
The Brahman, still more sad, asked the road to give him its opinion.
“My dear sir,” said the road, “how foolish you are to expect anything else! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!”
On this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a jackal, who called out, “Why, what’s the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish out of water!”
The Brahman told him all that had occurred. “How very confusing!” said the jackal, when the recital was ended; “would you mind telling me over again, for everything has got so mixed up?”
The Brahman told it all over again, but the jackal shook his head in a distracted sort of way, and still could not understand.
“It’s very odd,” said he, sadly, “but it all seems to go in at one ear and out at the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment.”
So they returned to the cage, by which the tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws;
“You’ve been away a long time!” growled the savage beast, “but now let us begin our dinner.”
“Our dinner!” thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked together with fright; “what a remarkably delicate way of putting it!”
“Give me five minutes, my lord!” he pleaded, “in order that I may explain matters to the jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits.”
The tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again, not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible.
“Oh, my poor brain! oh, my poor brain!” cried the jackal, wringing its paws. “Let me see! how did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the tiger came walking by–”
“Pooh!” interrupted the tiger, “what a fool you are! I was in the cage.”
“Of course! ” cried the jackal, pretending to tremble with fright; “yes! I was in the cage–no I wasn’t–dear! dear! where are my wits? Let me see–the tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by–no, that’s not it, either! Well, don’t mind me, but begin your dinner, for I shall never understand!”
“Yes, you shall!” returned the tiger, in a rage at the jackal’s stupidity; “I’ll make you understand! Look here–I am the tiger–”
“Yes, my lord! “
“And that is the Brahman–”
“Yes, my lord!”
“And that is the cage–”
“Yes, my lord!”
“And I was in the cage–do you understand?”
“Yes–no – Please, my lord–”
“Well? ” cried the tiger impatiently.
“Please, my lord!–how did you get in?”
“How!–why in the usual way, of course!”
“Oh, dear me!–my head is beginning to whirl again! Please don’t be angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?”
At this the tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried, “This way! Now do you understand how it was?”
“Perfectly! ” grinned the jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, “and if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they were!”
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One of the great un-sung poetesses…. died tragically early, but left 80 wonderful poems. Her family destroyed the rest of them upon the occasion of her suicide. – G
Your Body – My Kabbalah – Elise Cowen
TEACHER–YOUR BODY MY KABBALAH…
Teacher–your body my Kabbalah
Rahamim–Compassion
Tiferete–Beauty
The aroma of Mr. Rochesters cigars
among the flowers
Bursting through
I am trying to choke you
Delicate thought
Posed
Frankenstein of delicate grace
posed by my fear
And you
Graciously
Take me by the throat
The body hungers before the soul
And after thrusts for its own memory
Why not afraid to hurt elig–
couldn’t hurt me except in wit, in funny
I couldn’t, wouldn’t art in relation
but with a rose or rather skunk cabbage
Just–Mere come I break through grey paper
room
Your
Frankenstein
What is the word from Deberoux Babtiste
the Funambule I
Desnuelu (who’s he?) to choke you
Duhamel and you
De brouille Graciously
Deberaux Take me by the throat
Decraux
Barrault
Deberaux
Delicate
French logic
Black daisy chain of nuns
Nous sommes tous assasins
Keith’s jumping old man in the waves
methadrine
morning dance of delicacy
“I want you to pick me up
when I fall down”
I wouldn’t and fell
not even death
I waited for
stinking
with the room
like cat shit
would take me
Donald’s first bed wherein this fantasy
shame changing him to you
And you talking of plum blossom scrolls
and green automobiles
Shame making body thought
a game
Cat’s cradle & imaginary
lattices of knowledge & Bach
system
Fearing making guilt making shame
making fantasy & logic & game &
elegance of covering splendour
emptying memory of the event
covering splendour with mere elegance
covering
sneer between the angels
Wouldn’t couldn’t
Fear of the killer
dwarf with the bag of tricks & colonels picture
To do my killing for me
God is hidden
And not for picture postcards.
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EMILY…
Emily white witch of Amherst
The shy white witch of Amherst
Killed her teachers
With her love
I’ll rather mine entomb
my mind
Or best that soft grey dove.
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SITTING
Sitting with you in the kitchen
Talking of anything
Drinking tea
I love you
“The” is a beautiful, regal, perfect word
Oh I wish you body here
With or without bearded poems.
No love
No compassion
No intelligence
No beauty
No humility
Twenty-seven years is enough
Mother–too late–years of meanness–I’m sorry
Daddy–What happened?
Allen–I’m sorry
Peter–Holy Rose Youth
Berry–Such womanly bravers
Keith–Thank you
Joyce–So girl beautiful
Howard–Baby take care
Leo–open the window and Shalom
Carol–Let it happen
Let me out please–
–Please let me in
Elise Cowen, this is believed to be her last poem
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Think of this as a gift of the early summer…. sit back, or wander your house with this on… Blessings, G
Ralph Vaughan Williams: Tallis Fantasia
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Elihu Vedder Biography:Vedder was American-born Romantic painter and illustrator whose reputation is based primarily on oil paintings derived from dreams and fantasies.
Elihu Vedder was born in New York city, 26 February, 1836.
Vedder had his first instruction in art in his native city, and later studied with Tompkins H. Matteson in Sherbourne, New York, and Francois Edouard Picot in Paris. In 1856 Vedder went to Italy, and subsequently he opened a studio in New York. Vedder was there elected an associate of the National academy in 1863, and an associate two years later. Subsequently Vedder removed to Rome, Italy, where he still resides. Elihu Vedder paintings, while naturalistic and vigorous in treatment, are ideal in motive, and bear witness to the fertility of imagination and versatility of the artist. In many of his paintings Vedder aims, as one critic has said, “to give to the unreal and impossible an air of plausibility and real existence.
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