The Queen of England Visits Richmond

I like the queen. In fact I enjoy British royalty all around. They are nice, polite and entertaining. They do pomp and circumstance, um, royally. However, I have avoided mentioning the queen or the Williamsburg 400 year celebration because I avoid all such events like the plague or mononucleosis (doesn't it have a new name?). I would rather have my teeth drilled than fight traffic, be crushed and crane my neck. If you plan to come to Richmond know that this city is not really good at handling a lot of traffic. All it takes is one event (not even this size) to tie it up. (Traffic to Capitol Square is already restricted and 10th Street below Bank is blocked off.) So rethink your visit. On May 3rd, I'll be at work (having parked 10 blocks away as usual) watching from one of the top floors of the building, safe, air conditioned and comfortable. There is one exception to my rule – if I am part of such an event to the extent that I get preferential treatment I'll go. Otherwise, I think the best views and information are to be gained from the TV or internet. Although I have heard that there are those who like this sort of thing. Have fun, either way.

Her majesty's a pretty nice girl but she doesn't have a lot to say. Her majesty's a pretty nice girl but she changes from day to day. I wanna tell her that I love her a lot but I gotta get a belly full of wine. Her majesty's a pretty nice girl and one day I'm gonna make her mine, oh yeah, one day I'm gonna make her mine. —John Lennon

NOTE: Not only is the Queen visiting but the evening of May 3rd is the local grocery store race fest downtown. This weekend is a NASCAR race. Just stay out of Richmond altogether. It will be a mess!

scripts

While hanging out at Barnes and Noble looking for a self-help book and generally wasting time and relaxing, I opened a book to a statement that suggested getting over depression by giving up the scripts – the ones that we all inheirit from society and family and fairy tales and movies and stories. Because living those scripts is what makes you unhappy.

I spent some time years ago giving up dreams I had about how life should be. A couple of dreams were painful to give up because they were so nice and sweet. But they were never going to happen so there was no point in making myself miserable over them. Today I've been thinking about how my life would be without scripts. I know about expectations and how they can destroy a normally good experience for me. But the scripts thing is totally different somehow.

These words – scripts, dreams, expectations – are all descriptions of the same thing yet somehow each word lights up a different aspect of the meaning. Scripts bother me most because they are fixed and immutable. They are like tiny programs running my life for me. Without the scripts I see just what is in front of me. Not bad but I prefer the long view. Not sure what I'm going to do about that.

What you can become is the miracle you were born to be through the work that you do. – Kurt Vonnegut
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living somone else's life. – Steve Jobs

I'm back ... thanks for understanding

I actually got back Friday evening but was so relaxed from being in Cancun that I couldn't bring myself to do anything more than unpack and go right on relaxing. Yesterday I tackled the yard, the grass having grown 4 inches during the 7 days I was gone. The weeds are horribly frightening but I'm going to get to them shortly. Which is why this post will be short. I also spent 2 hours yesterday catching up on email and I'm still not done. That will be finished today, hopefully. I also plan to post a short summary of my vacation in my other blog. Mostly, I'm left with an irrepressible urge to burst into a warm "Hola!" every time I see someone. It's lovely! Everyone should have an all-inclusive vacation in Cancun at least once in their life.


more later

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The Real Richmond

Read the "InBox" letter Typewriter Tirade (scroll down) to discover what real Richmonders are like. Once upon a time there was a Style Weekly "You are really Richmond ..." contest. My undying favorite is "... if you believe that the real power in Richmond comes from those who died three generations ago." or something like that. It was so true. It's not so true anymore. We had a massive immigration of native New Yorkers about 15 years ago that livened things up. And, I've recently discovered, even more arrived after the 9/11 incident. So we're not quite so insular as we once were. Yeah. Right.

Thank goodness for Brick taking the torch from Style Weekly which now holds aloft a designer illumination.

Which Contains a Fantasy Satisfied with a Love Befitting It

    Semblance of my elusive love, hold still—
image of a bewitchment fondly cherished,
lovely fiction that robs my heart of joy,
fair mirage that makes it joy to perish.
    Since already my breast, like willing iron,
yields to the powerful magnet of your charms,
why must you so flatteringly allure me,
then slip away and cheat my eager arms?
    Even so, you shan't boast, self-satisfied,
that your tyranny has triumphed over me,
evade as you will arms opening wide,
    all but encircling your phantasmal form:
in vain shall you elude my fruitless clasp,
for fantasy holds you captive in its grasp.

Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz
(1651-1695)
translasted by Alan S. Trueblood

Forget what you know. Trust where you would not.

On days like today I'd prefer to write poems about why tomatoes don't like being wrapped up in plastic rather than get ready for work. There's a poem there, you know.

Yesterday I wrote what's below. That led to the title you see above. I know how I got there. I do it all the time. Do you know how I got there?

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An Actor's Choices
Actors discover, easily or uneasily, that who they are and what they feel are what keeps them in work. They learn that pulling up something from inside themselves and projecting it is what others come to see. It's a powerful realization. As they practice and master themselves (and characters like them) they can move on to work that lets them become someone else. They still use who they are and what they feel but recombine it into someone they are not and would never be. A different choice is to use this opportunity to project idealized or perfected images of themselves (through the scripted character). Acting is an art form and a lot of work -- even for "naturals."

A lucky actor or actress (thespian) will get to choose a good a script from many offers instead of having to look really hard for just one. There are many variations on "good." There's good emotionally, good for skill development, good for publicity, good for the company, instinctively good, etc. Hopefully the good will be in all areas. That's the ideal choice.

There comes a time when the thespian discovers limits and fears. Some accept these limits. Others see them as challenges and put themselves continually in the way of opportunities to face their fears and push their limits. Some are successful. Some are moderately successful and some fail miserably. Some lose their instincts in the process. Some their feeling. Some decide they were never any good to begin with and leave the profession. Some keep battling, digging a deeper and deeper pit until they find themselves trapped.

Of those who see their limits, some think they are facing their fears when, actually, they are merely increasing their skill at facing a previously overcome fear and using that activity to avoid facing a real fear. For example, an actor who has a fear of being overcome by the publicity machine and also a fear of hatred. He has worked for years to master his fear of hatred by playing many hateful characters. Rather than facing his fear of the publicity machine by starring in large mainstream films, he will take on more roles that let him face down hatred over and over again. So, the actor feels like he's really having at it when he is not. (Nothing looks more attractive to me than doing the dishes when it is time to edit my novel.)

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Something doesn't feel right, but there it is anyway.

for Violet

field of snow

Those of you who remember my Janurary summer post will wonder where it is I am exactly. I know I do. Am I really in Richmond VA? Yes. And does it normally have this kind of weather. Sometimes. As in this year, for example. My poor forsythia, one of the last to bloom, is now covered in snow. There is definitely something not right. The temperature is supposed to rise to 51 tomorrow (after sinking to 30 last night). Even now the sky is blue and the sun is out. I hope my blooming cherry tree keeps its blooms. I will try not to be depressed and angry if it doesn't, but no promises. And I was so looking forward to a luscious pink Sunday.

The Song You Need to Sing to Me

Well, here it is, inspired by my iPod full of love songs which makes me feel like a Queen of Yore beset with amazing troubadors. I am so rich!

I Long to Tell You
Everything I enjoy and how thoughts of you
open my heart
the glow in your eyes, your sensitive spirit,
open mind and loving ways
all these have brought songs to lips before
but never mine to you
my lips to you
and at night when we lie together
our legs entwined
i will breathe across your ear
into your hair
this song of all I long to tell you

My adventures
and how all I have learned has made me a cup full of life
ready to pour into you
as you open yourself to me
everything that I have in my heart
will make your heart sing in reply
and at night when we lie together
our legs entwined
i will breathe across your ear
into your hair
this song of what I long to tell you

As we lay in stillness contemplating light and shadow
I continue my soul's song
bringing you close to me with sins and generosities
weaving tales for you alone
and reporting what I have told others
as you listen in your quiet way
I understand that you are always here with me
and at night when we lie together
our legs entwined
i will breathe across your ear
into your hair
this song of what I long to tell you

this song will never end
even after we are both gone
it will linger in the air
permeating the atmosphere
until it finds some other pair
some other king and queen
brought to whispering
at night when we lie together
our legs entwined
i will breathe across your ear
into your hair
this song of all I long to tell you

You're on your own with the melody and orchestration, etc. I'm afraid you may even have to do minor edits to the words or cadence but, hey, you're the artist! Play on!

experiment

I'm experimenting with ArtRage a free painting program that sells for about $20 if you want the full version. It's very easy to use and makes, as you can see, images that look like paintings. It doesn't have filters (effects) and won't let me blur or smudge or blend unless I add color with a tool at the same time. But it is free (and cheap) and really easy so anyone wishing to try their hand, can. I don't have a drawing tablet at home so I can't quite do what I am able to do at work, but it's good enough for now.

Current Fads
Listening. four different radio stations (including WBAR.org and NPR); the winds of the summer sun
Watching. The Lord of the Rings (2002-2004)
Activity. staying awake
Gadget. iPod Shuffle (2nd Gen)
News Source. the news feeds in Safari
Reading. Neither Here Nor There - Bill Bryson; The Erotic Spirit - Edited by Sam Hamill; GD USA; Graphic Arts Monthly; Fortune (Yes, I really am reading them all right now—I'm a reading addict. What can I say?)

green evening

My head protects my heart but not my eyes.

515

It is only hidden to those who do not already know.

a portrait of clouds

Things have come into my life that I thought were permanent.

you don't know me

you just think you do
and how could you?
i barely know myself
and I feel very good about that

wishes can come true

I wished for nicer weather to garden in and no sooner had I finished the post than the sun came out! See! All you have to do is wish. I got both rhodedendrons planted, some of the daisies and the rest of the bedding plants.

There's a folk song about diseases. —The Smothers Brothers
Everyone's got something wrong with 'em. Just be glad yours is something you can see, said my Nan. —Woman in Earl's Court

My particular disease is wishing. Wishing I could drift through the days doing what ever comes to mind. Comes from years of being organized and planful. Yikes! It's Sunday night! ... and tomorrow is ... ARRRGGHHH! Can I wish for a month of Sundays? Should I?

Song of the Day: The Story in Your Eyes

I've got it all wrong

Apparently I need to be doing things like this to get attention. Gee. I may not be a real artist. Okay. That was not nice. I don't care. It's a bummer day. Well, not really. It's a vague day I think, maybe, it could be. Cold. Rainy. Would like to do some garden/yard work but it's a much better idea to stay inside. I'm having NaNoWriMo withdrawals. Also wierd as that has been over for months now. Guess I'll go to fall back and hang over to Barnes & Noble or find some other time waster and then spend some time making an executive decision about what movie to watch tonight. :::sigh::: I am not motivated to do anything except dither around here. Life. Can't live with it, can't live without it.