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 Content Rating Notice: Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only |
| >> Book >> Personal >> ID #982524 |   |
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   L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣   L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I L  V COMMENTS!On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara  passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links:  These pictures rotate. Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
| 23. Lamenting the end of tomes | ID #673948 |
| Posted: 10-30-2009 @ 9:21 pm EDT Edited: 10-31-2009 @ 2:49 am EDT | |
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 NaNoWriMo"Blood of the Garlic"  Slowly... wrote #6 yesterday while washing underwear at the laundromat (a semi-yearly event). Posted #3, so officially I'm over 1k words. I'll need to write two or three "short stories" a day though.  Spent some time today writing vampish jokes... like: Why do vamps object to Catholic communion? The tiled floors of the church in San Ramón, Costa Rica:  Lamenting the end of tomes Your pages weighed us down with words. Your cover's garish lies defied us. Proud and mighty, once you showed your spine. And now we cut you, burn, unbind you, break you open till you lie unbound. You fold like paper cranes with crumbled wings, like words returning back to syllable and sound. © Kåre Enga [166.234a] 2009-10-24 Sketching it out:Our library specializes in making art by recycling old books. Some are very well done. My friend Rory Romano once took a book on the mafia, shot it with her pistol, then hollowed it out to hide the gun inside... brutal metaphor!  This sketch isn't as strong though (but getting better every rewrite). I post it anyways. Thou:If you love the tall-grass prairie or are fond of foxes, read entry "Turville Woods" by Asymmetrical .Make sure you aren't holding it in when you read "Pee (working title)" by AL  Me and Mine:The day dawned late... and me later still. The coming time change means I may get up before 9... or maybe not. Today I slept peacefully till 7 then fretfully till 10. The grey mornings don't get me out of bed. Mild nightmares Wednesday night. Wonder if it was related to the cabbage and sausage I ate late?  Got a care package with Swiss chocolate!  . I gave Caoimhe the first piece as she appeared wan after some dismal family news. Lots of dying among my friends... Montana: 52º in Missoula at 7 p.m. |
| 22. "Bullied... no more"; Bloody NaNo update. | ID #673699 |
| Posted: 10-28-2009 @ 11:47 pm EDT Edited: 10-29-2009 @ 12:39 am EDT | |
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 Blood of the Garlic   NaNoWriMo"Blood of the Garlic" will keep track of what I've entered on-line, which will be delayed as I prefer to write in cursive on paper (in a lime-green notebook). I need to find my old stories as well. So far I've written 5 new ones in four days. Now, mind you, these are all short, like flash fiction; but, it is a start. I'm priming my pump as it were and hoping I can sustain it through the 1st of December... I'll check on the 1st, 10th and 20th of November to gauge my progress. At this point it appears I'll need to write 50 to reach my own goal of 30k. 80 to attain the magical 50k. That's a lot! Bullied... no more. He kicked me. I cried. Then he kicked me. I cried. I cried when he kicked me. Did he kick you? I lied. He punched me. I cried. When he punched me, I cried. I cried, then he punched me. Pulled my knife out. He died. © Kåre Enga [166.240] 2009-10-28  Sketching it out:Oh... I was talking to Myrt... and this came to mind. Silly it is... but not far from what a lot of teenagers think and go through. I don't remember being very happy as a teenager. Too awkward: physically, socially and emotionally. A hymn in Cherokee: Slower, with the words spelled out in Cherokee: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ks_1XZ3XiAI Thou:Did read some. Yes I did! And I commented too...   Me and Mine:So... Not a great start to the day. Cold, sugar-powered hills. I stayed in until I had a craving for bread. Ventured forth for my 250¢ baguette. Walking a block hardly counts as exercise though... Speaking of weight... scales always lie, right? At least when I got on one yesterday it wasn't as high as I feared. I need to lose more. Baguettes ain't gonna help though.  Saw a couple flakes while crossing the bridge-to-somewhere. Once I got to Butterfly Herbs and saw the Unicorn (I've got pictures), ate at Sushi Hana (left a tip of a Polk dollar), drank more coffee at Zootown Brew... I was fine. Read and wrote. Read the poetry of Lalla (1320-1392), a mystic from Kashmir. Her terse verse speaks to me. What's worse? She use to run around naked.  I wrote in my Journal (page 2,200): "I am smitten. She talked spare; she walked bare. I am enthralled by her nakedness." So I wrote three poems and two stories today; wrote in my journal; took notes on my way home to put in my Nurture your Nature blog (later). This is the most productive I've been in awhile. Been moping in my room due to lack of energy left over from that brief illness and a continuing bout with depression. The dark damp weather hasn't helped. Montana: 34º in Missoula at 10 p.m. Cloudy. Snow showers in the forecast. |
| 21. Radishes | ID #673521 |
| Posted: 10-27-2009 @ 4:35 pm EDT Edited: 10-27-2009 @ 7:41 pm EDT | |
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 Radishes to you!  "Always thought radishes were garish..." "You do mean garnish, don't you?" KE Rose would gnaw Scarlett's carrots, nibble on her lettuce. Do whatever most rabbits would do. Spinach was her all time favorite, although she'd check out a shoe lace or two. Radishes? She'd just wiggle her nose in disgust... then hop away. "No. Those little pink or red balls were too neon for me. I'd never eat them, garnish or not. " KE Radish time lapse; listen to the banjo and watch them grow:  Thou:I'm not getting around to everyone's blog. This will get worse. To focus on NaNo, I'll be visiting Blogville less. Did stop by to say hello to Chewie Kittie  and alfred booth, wanbli ska  though. Me and Mine:Well I ate what I hope will be the worse meal ever at the Senior Center today. Harvard beets: cold with no flavor. Shepherds pie? With a sweet biscuit for the top and no potatoes? Yuck. Jello for "dessert"? Worse. Yes, I ate it all and yes, I should be thankful. For 50¢ I bought 4 wooden utensils. Very useful when cooking... Last night I cooked up flan and boiled a butifarra sausage (Uncle Bill's recipe: pork, white wine, garlic, salt pepper, spices) to add to my olive sandwich. I just noticed... garlic... one more idea for my NaNo stories. Wrote #2 last night. And yes, I will be making a folder or a "book" to put them in. Montana: 40º in Missoula at 1 p.m. Snow showers in the forecast. |
| 20. No time for... | ID #673394 |
| Posted: 10-26-2009 @ 8:11 pm EDT Edited: 10-26-2009 @ 8:20 pm EDT | |
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 Montana's Provençal  Lavender grows well in Missoula. The hot dry summers, the mild dry winters, the adequate rainy and cool springs means a fragrant harvest of violet-blue flowers. We shall see whether the severe cold snap damaged the plants... but, overall, we enjoy our lavender here in the Provençal region of Montana. This bouquet was at Lavender Lori's stand. "Do I remember when my blog had less than 55 thousand views?" KE My back is doing better after Diane Elder adjusted the backpack's straps, hugs to her; the mouse at this computer is behaving today. Maybe my threats of a cat-attack were taken seriously; Conversation directed to me: "Who kicked his wheels and bent his spokes?" said by Robin regarding Hub, who was dressed as a man-in-black on a day that may hit 95; I stuck around for a cup of Hazelnut coffee this morning. Thanks, Brad! (from blog entry of June 24, 2005) "Yeah... but why dwell on it?" KE No time for... Tell me what you want before you speak. You want me to die. I know it. I'm up to the challenge of defying death, but not ferreting out thoughts, your slow wit. Take the lint out of your ears. I said, Say it! Show me your passion, your anger, your joy; I can surely handle your flack. I have pity a plenty for your presence; it's patience I lack. © Kåre Enga [166.235] 2009-10-23  Sketching it out:I was at the book festival, I believe it was during the Virginia Woolf workshop and this came to mind. Thou:Erin J. Roberts is back.  But where-oh-where did everyone else go? I'll have to send out emails... if I can find them at all.~♥~Krysha~♥~  has great news as Quay has just been re-united his brother after 20 years! "What a long weekend!" Do you ever remember someone from the very first time? Elvina struck me as "tall", statuesque, like a Roman movie star, like an Italian version of Barbara Stanwyck, elegant, patrician. My mother met Elvina as well; we were both impressed. But we all grow old and Elvina died in hospice this past week. She will be mourned by J's family, including her boyfriend, Fivesixer...blog CHAMP!!  , who did not have the pleasure to meet her when her presence could fill a room... Barbara Stanwyck: http://www.findagrave.com/photos250/photos/2006/128/1729_114722415578.jpg Me and Mine:Ate a Greek Panini: focaccia with kalamata olives, olive spread, spinach, mozzarella and pesto. Since I don't like olives... eating an olive sandwich (call it what you will) takes effort. I only have two more in the refrigerator. Not a happy puppy. This gloom is getting to me. Yesterday it was so nice to sit in the window soaking in sunshine, but sunny days have been rare this October. Days like this make me want to move to the open plains... ...but not Billings... I've had that conversation with Ryne already. So... time to plan another get-away? Going to Costa Rica presents problems as there aren't going to be many cheap flights during tourist season. I may have to go earlier or later than planned to avoid the rush. I started NaNoWriMo. Wrote my first story last night at The Break Espresso. Montana: 39º and dingy damp in Missoula at 10 a.m. |
| 19. Santa María de Dota | ID #673173 |
| Posted: 10-24-2009 @ 8:16 pm EDT Edited: 10-24-2009 @ 8:22 pm EDT | |
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"I have four legs and a dangling trunk..." KE |
| 18. Be a writer! San Marcos de Tarrazú, Costa Rica | ID #673033 |
| Posted: 10-23-2009 @ 8:56 pm EDT Edited: 10-23-2009 @ 10:15 pm EDT | |
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Friday, Aug. 19, 2005 |
| 17. Blurb for "Blood of the Garlic" | ID #672868 |
| Posted: 10-22-2009 @ 5:03 pm EDT Edited: 10-22-2009 @ 8:18 pm EDT | |
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It is time for NaNoWriMo.  Garlic grows well in the mucklands around North-by-North-West, Kansas City. Onions and leeks thrive too for the young farmers who meet at The Shallot, a small cottage at the edge of the fields tended by these LDVs. Too bad most of their family members are allergic to the culinary concoctions supervised by Meadowlark Nightengale. But then... they are allergic to wooden splinters and silver too... These then are the stories of Ajo and Knyflok, Czeszniak and Bunny, Bawang and Thoom, tales woven tight as a braid hung to dry from high rafters, recipes best known as the "Blood of the Garlic". So... whaddya think? [Really: suggestions on how to improve?]Kansas City: 51º and cloudy. |
| 16. Temple of Music; Templo de Música, SJ, Costa Rica | ID #672756 |
| Posted: 10-21-2009 @ 10:22 pm EDT Edited: 10-21-2009 @ 10:31 pm EDT | |
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Templo de Música  Temple of Music Pum, pum, pum! Better the crack of fireworks than the discharge of pistols as pigeons take flight to the descant of stars, the flutter of wings, the flute of red cars. At night the old dome glows golden, by day birds roost round their home; outside, plumaria-fragrance. By day, we circle around it to get to somewhere or stop to watch youthful jugglers, skate boarders or dancers, breaking the boredom of one more rainy day. We stay to watch fireworks lift over the not-so-distant plaza hear sounds of the party lit by the stars that dance to a pum, pum, pum, the whoosh of grey wings, the flute of red cars. © Kåre Enga [166.233] 2009-10-18 Sketching it out:Just because... weaving thoughts, memories and experiences to go with the pictures I posted. The Templo de Música is in downtown San José.  Thou:...stuffed sardines, but with laughter sauce today ...naked and lobster steamed under streams of hot water ...I am Hamlet, waiting for Godot ...please, send in the clowns carrying guns Time to go read entry: "yesterday was monday the 19th —" posted by alfred booth, wanbli ska . Why? Not just for the 4 lines above; but, I believe these 17 short pieces written about a single day in Alfred's life would make a good chapbook. The imagery and choice of words, even the humor, flows in a stream of consciousness that is a great read worthy of your comments. Me and Mine:Okay... still not feeling well. Hmmm. Someone will say that I need to see a doctor. I will respond that I should've gone years ago... So... listless. Did go out for sushi. Did read some blogs. Slept a lot the last three days. Today never warmed up. Last evening the dead leaves of the poplars were falling in a disconsolate melody. But my camera was "full" so I didn't record it. Did manage to save all my pictures to the computer. I can delete some things on the SD card now if I choose and free up some space. Montana: 44º in Missoula at 8 p.m. |
| 15. Lavender-patchouli bubblebath | ID #672620 |
| Posted: 10-20-2009 @ 8:00 pm EDT Edited: 10-20-2009 @ 8:02 pm EDT | |
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I ran out of opiana bubblebath. Got some lavender-patchouli to replace it... as per Donna's suggestion. |
| 14. Dance of the Midges | ID #672449 |
| Posted: 10-19-2009 @ 5:09 pm EDT Edited: 10-19-2009 @ 10:40 pm EDT | |
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Teatro Nacional  Dance of the Midges Like pale grey puffs of lint lifting in the barest breeze, dead leaves hanging from the trees, maple and birch both weeping, a thousand midges dance an autumn dance. Perchance to slowly wander Eddy Street to see a friend appear before me a Danish ghost, a youthful Hamlet, arrayed in purple and grey, to hear the crush of leaves beneath our feet, feel the two wing snowflakes dancing round us, see the sunset edging up the mountain ridges like our short-lived lives, the flight of midges. © Kåre Enga [166.232] 2009-10-18 Sketching it out:Saturday afternoon there were thousands of midges in the air. We had a freeze that killed everything off, then a mild day... the images of dead leaves while I was walking down Eddy Street taking notes. Then Steven appeared. Second time in two days... like magic. Note, since some of you have asked: Midges: think of gnats. A swarm of gnats at dusk is a ghost. Which I didn't know... but appropriate. Verlaine's "Il pleure dans mon coeur" set to music by Billy Cowie: Verlaine's Chanson d'Automne Les saglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon couer D'une langeur Monotone. Tout suffocant Et blême, quand Sonne l'heure, Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure Et je m'e vais Au vent mauvais Qui m'emporte Deçà, delà, Pareil à la Feuille morte. Discourse on Verlaine's Chanson d'Automne: http://www.textetc.com/workshop/wt-verlaine-1.html Thou:*witch-hat* *witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat**witch-hat*Remember when I made designs with emoticons? It's been a couple years. I found the above design in a blog entry of Anyea . Ain't it purty? Anyea has a wonderful visual artistic streak that shows up in her blog all the time. She deserves more visitors. Me and Mine:Saturday I was busy. Sunday I was ill. Saturday: market (apples, pears, feta, liver), the Grizz game, running into Steven while walking through the midges, Tosca (all 3 hours worth). Sunday: dragging myself out for a pot of licorice root tea (very nice, sweet; thank-you, Rebecca). Too ill to write or blog. Today I'm much better, but I'm taking it easy as this is a week packed full of activities that will not allow for illness to intervene.  Watt's Gnus: Grizz won 41-34 in a nail-biter. I sat in the south-end with East Washington Eagle fans. Good game. Nice safety. No turnovers! Bills won 16-13 over the Jets in overtime. Did Zack place that bet? Montana: 44º in Missoula at 1 p.m. |
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