Happy New Year!!!

My long list is a madness of its own, or I should say of my own. I have narrowed down to ten essentials that I would like to attempt in the coming year. There is no order of importance.

Lily’s List for 2006:

1. Learn to play a better chess game.
2. Volunteer for a good cause.
3. Make dent in a list of all my “pending” house projects.
4. Not neglect my health.
5. Finally organize my grandmother’s notes on how to read Taro Cards according to our ancestral tradition.
6. Exercise prudence when compelled to leap into “good intentions” mode.
7. Plant an herb garden.
8. Start learning Spanish on my own, and see where I can get with it.
9. Sight Elvis.

If I only had to name one, it would be this one:
10. Manage my time in more effective and productive manner.

Lucy and I have agreed that there is a need to update our profile and make clear that we are two completely independent individuals and not a case of split personality disorder. I think I will do just that, first thing next year… Lily.

Grimm, just grim:

OK, there is no amount of love for the fairy tales that can salvage my opinion of this movie. The Brothers Grimm was, well, a grim experience from beginning to the end, relieved only by brilliant splashes of costumes – anything red.

What they say, if you can’t make it good, make it big, and if you can’t make it big, make it red.

One thing we loved was the cape of the Little Red Riding Hood – but should you endure hours of idiocy for the love of couture? I rather not. Wolf did not pass the test: he was just plain bad, as in rendition, not character. Everything else was equally incoherent. Even the moment of Matrix meets Shrek could not save this disaster, only added to the overall sadness. And to finish it all with happily ever after, we are treated with “Fiddler on the Roof “moment, worthy of Bollywood production – EVERYONE sings and dances. I suppose it is appropriate then to leave it on this high and upbeat note.

And speaking of Bollywood – Bride and Prejudice is next on my Netflix list, we shall see. There have been so many baddies out there, that all I want to do is watch Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs and Kill Bill – over and over and over again…till something decent hits the screen!

Gumbo is cooking, and will be for a while. Rue ended up a perfect color, and I say it is result of cooking it in a cast iron pot, as suppose to non-stick things! There is still time to start on my New Year “resolution” list. I don’t think I am planning on getting anything resolved next year, but it is nice to have a LIST. I like this LIST idea. So, I am going to work on it. And I am starting a new project on Sunday, so I am all exited, prepping things for it, but I don’t want to talk about that one just yet, just want to remain exited. Lily.

Just a little raving and ranting:

I really hate when everything breaks, even more so when everything breaks at once! And I am convinced that somehow F-Up Fairy got to perform a diabolical spell on every car I have ever driven – on every windshield of every car, to be precise. Arggg! One car had four windshields replaced in a space of three years.
Gees, I have own more windshields than, oh… Words fail!

Frustration mounted when I tried to call my water utility company and sort out some strangeness that was going on with them. Like a good little customer, after going through frustrating phone robot yes/no routine and getting to the live person, I was asked to furnish my social security number to verify my WATER utility account… Are they MAD?! Have anyone read the little print on what is the purpose of SS# happen to be, and why would I want to steal my name from the phone book and inquire about quality of water?
Did they somehow became a branch of Homeland Security and forgot to send us (customers) a memo?!!!! Arggg, again.

And before I am completely gone berserker with all the latest breakdowns, I am going to watch The Brothers Grimm and will dutifully report. I am Fairy Tale Freak, so I am not planning on being totally objective. Anyway. And tomorrow is gumbo-cooking day! So, it is all looking up, and before we know there is a new year! Oh, and I did got all “A’s” in my masochistic accounting semester, and Lucy got all “A’s” in physics and calculus. We are just brilliant that way. Underachievers of the world – UNITE! Lily.

Illustration Friday: HOLIDAY

Happy Holidays from Lily and Lucy.

Merry Christmas!

A Visit From Saint Nicholas
By Clement Clarke Moore
(was written as a Christmas gift for his children in1822)

T'was the night before Christmas,

when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, --not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!

On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONDER and BLITZEN!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT."

Illustration Friday: IMAGINE

This is an old painting…Illustration is based on a poem of Federico Garcia Lorca - The Faithless Wife, from his collection of Romancero Gitano, 'Gypsy Ballads'… Just IMAGINE the headache this guy is having, thinking she was a maiden!


So I took her to the river
believing she was a maiden,
but she already had a husband.
It was on St. James night
and almost as if I was obliged to.
The lanterns went out
and the crickets lighted up.
In the farthest street corners
I touched her sleeping breasts
and they opened to me suddenly
like spikes of hyacinth.
The starch of her petticoat
sounded in my ears
like a piece of silkrent by ten knives.
Without silver light on their foliage
the trees had grown largerand a horizon of dogs
barked very far from the river.

Past the blackberries,
the reeds and the hawthorne
underneath her cluster of hair
I made a hollow in the earth
I took off my tie,
she took off her dress.
I, my belt with the revolver,
She, her four bodices.
Nor nard nor mother-o’-pearl
have skin so fine,
nor does glass with silver
shine with such brilliance.
Her thighs slipped away from me
like startled fish,
half full of fire,
half full of cold.
That night I ranon the best of roads
mounted on a nacre mare
without bridle stirrups.

As a man, I won’t repeat
the things she said to me.
The light of understanding
has made me more discreet.
Smeared with sand and kisses
I took her away from the river.
The swords of the lilies
battled with the air.

I behaved like what I am,
like a proper gypsy.
I gave her a large sewing basket,
of straw-colored satin,
but I did not fall in love
for although she had a husband
she told me she was a maiden
when I took her to the river.


-- and here ist is in its original language--

La Casada Infiel
Y que yo me la llevé al río
creyendo que era mozuela,
pero tenía marido.
Fue la noche de Santiago
y casi por compromiso.
Se apagaron los faroles
y se encendieron los grillos.
En las últimas esquinas
toqué sus pechos dormidos,
y se me abrieron de pronto
como ramos de jacintos..
El almidón de su enagua
me sonaba en el oído,
como una pieza de seda
rasgada por diez cuchillos.
Sin luz de plata en sus copas
los árboles han crecido,
y un horizonte de perros
ladra muy lejos del río.

Pasadas la zarzamoras,
los juncos y los espinos,
bajo su mata de pelo
hice un hoyo sobre el limo.
Yo me quité la corbata.
Ella se quitó el vestido.
Yo el cinturón de revólver.
Ella sus cuatro corpiños.
Ni nardos ni caracolas
tienen el cutis tan fino,
ni los critales con luna
relumbran con ese brillo.
Sus muslos se me escapaban
como peces sorprendidos,
la mitad llenos de lumbre,
la mitad llenos de frío.
Aquella noche corrí
el mejor de los caminos,
montado en potra de nácar
sin bridas y sin estribos.
No quiero decir, por hombre,
las cosas que ella me dijo.
La luz del entendimiento
me hace ser muy comedido.
Sucia de besos y arena
yo me la llevé al río.
Con el aire se batían
las espadas de los lirios.

Me porté como quien soy.
Como un gitano legítimo.
La regalé un costurero
grande de raso pajizo,
y no quise enamorarme
porque teniendo marido
me dijo que era mozuela
cuando la llevaba al río.

While cleaning out computer closet I stumbled upon this. I took this photo last year. Sometime winter looks really nice even around here. But not usually…then you have to look at the photos to get exited about all the snow…Lily.

The Blue Bird of Happiness

I got it, I got it!!! The Blue Bird of Happiness is mine!
Not only I was able to snatch The Blue Bird book (by Maurice Maeterlinck), it cost fraction of what I was thinking I will have to pay for it, and it is 1909 copy published by Dodd, Mead and Company. Translated by Alexander Teixeira De Mattos. Konstantin Stanislavski at the Moscow Art Theater first produced the Blue Bird, in 1909. Same year as the book publication! Though I think the play was written in 1907, but I am not sure…
What I didn’t know that Maurice Maeterlinck received a Nobel Prize for Literature in 1911, and that he is the author of the melancholy fantasy masterpiece “Pelléas et Mélisande” (written in 1892, translated in 1892 and made into an opera in 1902 by the French composer Claude Debussy)!
I am so very pleased, I can’t help myself… Lily.

Visions of Books and Sausages:

I am trying so hard to avoid doing anything that I must do to complete this semester at school… Sometimes I think that all my good intentions for a back up plan is one giant folly. As I am staring at the last of what needs to be turned in, all associated with payroll, returns and statements, I am about to just close my eyes and go back to bed! I also think that when faced with many of those unexpected details (instructor kept on changing syllabus all the way through he week of Thanksgiving, and it is just wrong!), my mind tends to go blank.

I am having visions of Christmas Brunch in my head instead. Menu ideas floating in and out – should we have quiche with spinach or seafood? And since I don’t like the smell of cooking bacon, can we avoid bacon alltogether and have something like lovely little breakfast sausages instead? And another question – will I end up cooking for too many people, as I usually do, and will everyone who promised show up? Or just bugger it and have pastries from Panera and gallons and gallons of coffee and tea, and just let everyone loose? Right. Who gives about Employer’s Annual Federal Unemployment Tax Return when there is such a pressing issue as sausages?! Te-he-he…

I am also running a list of to do in my head. Like, I must get on Ebay and get that book I have been after for years and years now. In the early 90s no one in this country even heard of it, and it use to bug me, like I just was talking about the book that I have invented. No, it exists, now that Ebay is running the consumer friendly universe. If you are crazy about books (I am) than you can find just about anything and have it, too! Well, this book, Blue Bird by Maurice Maeterlinck, Belgian author and playwright, has been my favorite since childhood. I finally located it, and now I just have to go and get it.
I was thinking about books, and got to think about all my favorite poetry books that I would like to re-read, again… And that second volume of War and Peace has been left unfinished (GASP!). How could I?

So, I am just running with random, truly random thoughts in my head and again, practicing Zen of avoidance. Oh, well.

And then there is a comment I was running in my head on latest entry for Illustration Friday. First of all – I had very bad and small pick of Cupid and Psyche that was basis for the drawing. Second, I think if I had more time, I would end up playing around with it indefinitely. But this painting (Cupid and Psyche) been bothering me for a while, they are so fresh and cute and clean and shiny. My antisocial and demented self (that is usually firmly locked away) reared its head and said – hey, what about this fresh and shiny notion of Love?
Do we fall in love and get surprised later?
Do we choose to love a monster, knowing he/she is a monster, as long as they keep up appearances?
Or we just choose to love what is available to us and pretend it is not a monster at all?
Or maybe we are the monsters from the monster’s point of view – all clean and shiny, and it is a monster that has to sacrifice some of self to keep the clean and shiny mask on for the benefit of other?
And what a surprise that Love, that beautiful thing, can turn into a consuming flame and just fry our toes!

That is what has been running through my head. Fun. Also beat the hell out of Employer’s Quarterly Federal Tax Return! Arg! It have been dragging on whole weekend – my doing little bits and pieces… I have to do it, be done, finished. Lily.

Pride and Prejudice, new release… Well. We loved many parts of it and we hated just as many remaining parts! Despite the glowing reviews of spectacular performances and satisfyingly rich fusion of romance, we found some things that put us far from ardent admiration of this film. The ending was one of them. I am NOT a purist, yet I cringed. I am going to wait for the DVD release, impatiently, with a hope of it having an alternate ending. One that is worthy of Austen.

The film itself, as a visual narrative, is very gorgeous. But I am talking strictly visual. Scenery is breathtaking (high cliffs included); light throughout the film is magical. Interiors! Whoever was responsible for sets and locations, have my undying gratitude. Turn off the sound, put it on pause frequently to admire stills and never mind the story! Because I loved the movie for the richness of color and the beauty of form, I was more than capable to forgive some of the “artistic license” that transpire, and enjoyed the visual journey.

However! If one is an Austen purist, one should not even bother to go. All the fabulous visuals are completely unrelated to the story - yes, the one called Pride and Prejudice (think the book!). Somebody, somewhere already has mentioned that Bennet family could not have possibly been THAT Dickensonian! And as gentry, surely they owned at least one comb?!

There are performance that delight – Lady Catherine (Judi Dench) is spectacular (despite midnight calls! Gasp!), Caroline Bingley is superb (even with such economy of actions and words, she still come through as fairly spiteful)! Bingley was great – we loved Bingley. We loved Jane.

Jury is still out on Darcy. But no one can do it better than Collin Firth! No one, however gorgeous! Ever! Don’t misconstrue – we are partial to the actor Matthew MacFadyen…

And there are parts that have no definition. Wickham ended up being a blip on a screen – I am surprised if anyone will even notice him… As to Lizzy Bennet – she looks very good in poor weather and on top of dangerous cliffs. And she does look 19, as the character she is supposed to be…There, I have abstained from making derisive comments!

On unrelated note – Lucy and I made last night a Harry Potter movie viewing night. We LOVE “Goblet of Fire”!!! Love it! Lily.

Illustration Friday: BLUE

The more she talked to herself, the less awful he seemed, and also the less blue his beard.