I don't want to overstate the case, but I am ready to declare this the World's Best Daily Blog. How have I determined that, you ask? Because blogs died a slow death of attrition by 2015. Even in the past, there were not so many that had daily postings, and those were rarely of this caliber, combining sterling prose and breathtaking photography. Wake up the neighbors. Tell your friends. They can have it all for free delivered daily to their window (computer, that is).
I startle myself.
And I await your challenges as they will surely come. No matter. I'm prepared to defend my claim.
So billionaire's can fly. Branson and his crew of fun loving wealthy patrons made the first commercial flight into almost space. They went to the very edge. And the world went wild. What more could we ask for in the time of unrest and pandemic than an opportunity for the ultra-wealthy to take turns shuttling to the brink of outer space? The dream is there will be more commercial flights to nowhere soon. Jesus, I'm happy for them. This is groundbreaking. Well, no. . . it isn't. But it sure is fun.
Isn't it?
I'm still waiting for my flying car.
More on my incompetence. I took a walk with my film Leica yesterday. I shot a whole roll of film. That is what I thought until I got to what should have been the end of the roll and the the counter just kept spinning. Apparently, I had not loaded the film correctly or well. What were probably if not definitely the best photographs of my long career were not recorded.
Selavy.
When I got back to my mother's house, she was outside entertaining the neighbors with a recounting of my rat song and dance routine. Oh, boy, she loves telling that story.
I set traps last night. I have caught nothing yet. It is going to be a real battle. Now we are hearing rat tales from many neighbors. Apparently, the neighborhood has been infested. I think we'll need to inform the proper authorities.
I understand the dreams of escaping to nearly weightlessness in almost outer space.
But they were not astronauts. They didn't even have space suits.
ReplyDeleteI think your stories have been well told last few days.
It is good news to read it hasn't taken Ma too long to return to her Summer Social Visits.
Are they stories or reporting or a combination thereof? Cause the other day you told us to believe what you said or something --
oh, don't think I don't know - it's The Lie, I'm familiar.
It's horrible to be turned on by that sort of shit from the time you were born I'm pretty sure.
My poem friend, Ed from Illinois, who sent me the nude recline - over the Harshest of the Vid Times, texted me yesterday, pictures of his huge garlic stores. It was nice to hear from him. I am going to send them some weed. Oh it's the blues at 8 on WMVY - I feel whoozey.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqkS4xZRzu0
OMG it's so good. The Devil's music.
It's that tricky stuff of writing - addicting. Chasing it around trying to catch some of it for personal use- much like trying to keep lightning bugs in a glass peanut butter jar along with a fistful of fresh picked grass cause of course they eat grass and they will therefore live long enough to take inside to your bedroom - sit the jar on the floor of your pink shag carpeted room pink curtains and watch, look, be amazed.
Over and over.
They are dying. They make light - so anciently and innocently - and we're fucking them over - the world needs that moist, dewy, special, special yellow/gold Light.
Sigh.
Okay that didn't go where I thought at all. I'm sad. I have 2 days of School coming up. But it's not the kind of school I wish to go to however. Whatever.
I got caught on my back deck in a position yesterday. Listen, I'm not saying it was the best sight anyone ever saw - all I'm saying is an uninvited interloper invaded my peaceful late afternoon sunshine intake on the chaise - book - cocktail - pipe - glasses - dog also on the chaise - investigating Maui Babe's Browning Lotion - which seems to have really worked (less time in the sun - not a bronzing lotion - a real Hawaiian Secret, that's what I read). I was documenting the progress with Hannah. Anyway. WTF with people ? The FREE STUFF was parked at the very end of the driveway - like almost in the road.
More tomorrow.
I hear the bell that means "one hour til lights out." I have stuffado.
Fantastic Salad with a 5 minute egg and Za'sTar seasoning - sesame seeds - pistachios - crumbled honey goat cheese - toasted pita on the side. Pome seeds would have been nice too. Cucumber Yogurt dressing - I opened a bottle of Rose - one glass so far only. Big hits on the pipe - soon my night night candy.
Isn't the ratio 1 Person = 1 Rat lives somewhere pretty close in the neighborhood?
That last line. ooooof. U.
Whatever. I've been crazy my whole life.
Oh. I made a fresh apricot and rhubarb crisp last night - with cinnamon, lavender honey (from Provence), ginger. Just had a little bowl. Apricots are just divine.
ReplyDeleteReporting.
ReplyDeleteOne of the most challenging but profitable sales I ever hosted was for a fairly well known impressionist painter, S.B. I may have even written about the event here, somewhere in the past.
S.B. tells the world, through his bio, that he is "European." He's really Middle Eastern. In the late 70's and early 80's, before my time here, it has been told to me, S.B. used to set up an easel in the lobby of one of the hotels in Hyannis and offer to paint pictures of all/any "pretty girl," that happened to walk by and get bamboozled by his ways.
His wife disliked all the nude pictures he painted. Or rather, I believe, all the nude girls S.B. had in his studio. To this day, she wears a face that has been sapped of any light.
She herself, in my opinion, a better painter. Always, his staunchest supporter though.
Their home and studios were in Hyannisport, on the water, across from the Kennedy dock. A pink, stucco - nothing like the Cape Cod's, colonials, gambrels in the neighborhood.
https://www.capecodtimes.com/article/20100704/biz/7040315
Inside, the house had a feeling similar to the one you get if you've ever looked at pictures of Picasso in his South of France houses -- open to the air - full of artwork of all kinds - dogs, cats, birds, - a messy freedom inducing sense of style.
S.B., he still likes young pretty girls.
Gotta get ready for work. All this writing for a less than 2 minute event.
Ick. Work.