Saturday, September 21, 2024
Monday, October 17, 2016
Muse of Poetry
Yesterday Michel read some of "Paradise Lost" Milton. I really enjoyed
it. Then he told me that in all Epic poems the writer begins by
calling a muse for inspiration.
I think it speaks to the truth about how men are different from women in love and life. And that maybe every young woman should have this read to them as a bedtime story.
I told him that every Sunday he and
I should read our favorite thing of the week to each other. I just read
Earnest Hemingway's first short story. "Up in Michigan" which he wrote
in Paris in 1921.
It's was like a slap in the face.
I think it speaks to the truth about how men are different from women in love and life. And that maybe every young woman should have this read to them as a bedtime story.
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Kerry James Marshall exhibit at M.C.A
There is a Kerry James Marshall show until September 25th at the Museum of Contemporary Art, it features several of his paintings.
I saw the above painting about 20 years ago at the Museum of Contemporary Art. I loved it immediately.
The show features the video below where the artist explains his process. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2bmHE7MRQU
Now I'm even more of a fan after hearing him talk about his art. This artist should be known by everyone in my opinion, and he lives in Chicago.
Sunday, September 4, 2016
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Poetry and Short Story Salon
The great salon of 2016.
(Actually pretty small)(Great..I'm just saying, in my opinion)
I hosted a small poetry and short story reading last weekend.
I only invited a small number of poets, writers and poetry fans due to my own nervousness and because of my small house.
My parents were invited and as always, brought their A game.
This blog post is mostly to record the readings for my own posterity or any attendee that could not hear.
We started the salon with a reading of Jack Helbig's play "Mildly Depressed Man". Many of the good natured guests were hired on the spot by my dad to play roles from his good friends peice.
Giamila Fantuzzi read a poem in Italian by Gabriele D'annunzio entitled "The rain in the pinewood"
http://www.lifeinabruzzo.com/the-rain-in-the-pinewood-la-pioggia-nel-pineto/
She gave us the English translation to read while she read.
My mom told a story about an old friend Irene Keller and then read a few of her poems. Here is one:
Cynthia Gessele shared her writing, Entitled Tory's Dilemma
Jean Sotos read a few of her poems Www.lmtpoet.blogspot.com
Grace Quinn read from her blog
Barbara Ballinger read 3 Hopkins poems
Inversnaid http://www.bartleby.com/122/33.html
The Windhover http://www.bartleby.com/122/12.html
and As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame. http://www.bartleby.com/122/34.html
Linda Stolz read a memoir
John Platt read some of his own poems:
1970
Welcome party:
no curses,
no spit
or baby-killer cries;
and no jobs either. ….
Mundane tragedy
and war is all.
Kill-zone shadows spreading
to bleak apartments.
Welcome back boys.
BYOB …. a quart jar
of Black Beauties :
“... war trophy,” he laughed.
He cradled it the whole time.
Nobody knew anybody,
not really
not anymore.
Music too loud --- strange; words
too empty. Awkward. all
split, and scattered early.
John Platt
2009
Trump
Tells
Linda Platt's blog is here http://lindiart2.blogspot.com/http://lindiart2.blogspot.com/
I read a poem which is more of an explanation of my last several years than anything else.
Rhyme of an ancient Marrier
When I am caught in the snarl of a net
My m.o. is to take on a rescue pet
It all started with my creation, a fish pond
instead of facing my marriage was a flawed bond
the next year brought results of infertile
but wouldn't the pond be better with a turtle
another hard year, anxiety depression, fog
I looked across facebook lines and fell for a dog
The marriage got worse we resorted to all but kickin
then we agreed, we would like to raise chicken
relationship over, I was in deep muck
first thing I did was babysit a duck
Now I'm banned from every pet shop
but I love critters and I'm not going to stop.
I also read "Envy of Other peoples poems" By Robert Hass
http://www.poemsbypost.com/?p=308
(Actually pretty small)(Great..I'm just saying, in my opinion)
I hosted a small poetry and short story reading last weekend.
I only invited a small number of poets, writers and poetry fans due to my own nervousness and because of my small house.
My parents were invited and as always, brought their A game.
This blog post is mostly to record the readings for my own posterity or any attendee that could not hear.
We started the salon with a reading of Jack Helbig's play "Mildly Depressed Man". Many of the good natured guests were hired on the spot by my dad to play roles from his good friends peice.
Giamila Fantuzzi read a poem in Italian by Gabriele D'annunzio entitled "The rain in the pinewood"
http://www.lifeinabruzzo.com/the-rain-in-the-pinewood-la-pioggia-nel-pineto/
She gave us the English translation to read while she read.
My mom told a story about an old friend Irene Keller and then read a few of her poems. Here is one:
 |
Cynthia Gessele shared her writing, Entitled Tory's Dilemma
Jean Sotos read a few of her poems Www.lmtpoet.blogspot.com
Grace Quinn read from her blog
Barbara Ballinger read 3 Hopkins poems
Inversnaid http://www.bartleby.com/122/33.html
The Windhover http://www.bartleby.com/122/12.html
and As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame. http://www.bartleby.com/122/34.html
Linda Stolz read a memoir
John Platt read some of his own poems:
1970
no curses,
no spit
or baby-killer cries;
and no jobs either. ….
Mundane tragedy
and war is all.
Kill-zone shadows spreading
to bleak apartments.
Welcome back boys.
BYOB …. a quart jar
of Black Beauties :
“... war trophy,” he laughed.
He cradled it the whole time.
Nobody knew anybody,
not really
not anymore.
Music too loud --- strange; words
too empty. Awkward. all
split, and scattered early.
John Platt
2009
The Hair:
Mini-serious candied foxcox comb over
ghost-spray weave of playboy prick past
--- the
crown at last!
The Eyes:
Squint blue windows
to the
sole consumer
of whys
and wherefores
weighed
in glaring error
scorn-constricted stares
the
mirror's mirror. It shows.
The Lips:
Smoochie sucky spitting self kissing
repulsed
plosive punch line perseverators
pooh-poohing
prehensile prevaricators.
Sly
smilers.
The Hands:
-Index
(sometimes middle) fingers touched to thumbs.
Remaining
fingers held like curtains beside the face.
(This
is NOT the “OK” sign)
but:
“Here's a special treat I
offer
to a captive pet.
Beg
for it.”
-
Palms flat forward wrists bent back
arms
extended: “STOP !
NO
ENTRY BEYOND THIS
WALL
(facade).”
-
Index fingers pointing up
-or
at you - hands closed tight: “Wait !
Just
Be Quiet (and maybe
I'll
give you a treat).”
-
thumbs up from closed fists
aimed
backward.
(
This is also NOT an “OK” sign) ---
but:
“ME. ME. ME.
All
attention
belongs
to Me.”
The
Deal: The slogan the sell the
slur repeat
invert
subvert beat resistance beat
beat
competition pound table slam
door
bang babe the deal repeat
until
submission. Sale.
Then
cheat.
Repeat.
The
Skin: Thin: a thing
made
out of lampshades.
John
Platt 2016
Linda Platt's blog is here http://lindiart2.blogspot.com/http://lindiart2.blogspot.com/
I read a poem which is more of an explanation of my last several years than anything else.
Rhyme of an ancient Marrier
When I am caught in the snarl of a net
My m.o. is to take on a rescue pet
It all started with my creation, a fish pond
instead of facing my marriage was a flawed bond
the next year brought results of infertile
but wouldn't the pond be better with a turtle
another hard year, anxiety depression, fog
I looked across facebook lines and fell for a dog
The marriage got worse we resorted to all but kickin
then we agreed, we would like to raise chicken
relationship over, I was in deep muck
first thing I did was babysit a duck
Now I'm banned from every pet shop
but I love critters and I'm not going to stop.
I also read "Envy of Other peoples poems" By Robert Hass
http://www.poemsbypost.com/?p=308
Monday, June 6, 2016
CranioSacral therapy 1
I just took a 4 day intensive class on CranioSacral therapy. A Doctor of Osteopathy, Upledger, discovered that
there is a rhythmic flow of cerebro-spinal fluid between the cranium and sacrum. The flow can be felt and even manipulated to relieve pain.
This has been something I've wanted to learn for a long time. Some of my teachers at both acupuncture and massage school loved this type of therapy and gave dramatic demo's often leading to a crying student. Crying but feeling better.
The therapy is very very light so the crying was a mystery to me.
The class was taught by a man that, to my great surprise, I had worked with at a clinic in Chicago ten years ago. He used to eat my snacks while I was in a room with a client. I'd come out of the room and find an empty bag. He lives in Iowa on a transcendental meditation commune where the residents meditate for world peace. They must share snacks.
There were several volunteer teaching assistants. They all introduced themselves and I thought one had an aura. But then I realized that she was standing in front of a wall sconce.
We had to go around the room and introduce ourselves. I said that my teachers could make people cry with this therapy and I am interested in making people cry.
The thing about CranioSacral therapy that remains a mystery is, It starts with feeling for the flow of an actual biological rhythm, but then you mostly imagine changing it. No one batted an eye at how it switches to energy work. These students were people who wore shirts that said, "We are all Connected" Or "Gratitude" These were the kind of people that when the teacher asked what makes up the body, one immediately yells "Spirit". One student said "I just had a colonic." while the teacher used her head to demonstrate moving the frontal bone. What did that have to do with her frontal bone I'll never know. I felt that maybe I have become too cynical in life. I was vasalating between excitement about these new techniques and major crises of faith in this type of healing.
Also, I should mention that the Chiropractor I work with, Dr. Jill Dortch, loves this type of medicine and she is of sound mind and a great healer of people.
The teacher was really good, he was entertaining, knew the info, and did several demonstrations. Two of which testified to an alleviation of symptoms. I forgave his snack transgressions. But he had a microphone clipped to his head and we would hear crunching noises at times and see that he was hiding in the corner snacking. Once we heard water running and we all realized he was in the bathroom with the microphone on. Luckily he was just washing his hands. One woman broke out crying the moment someone placed their hand on her chest, that seemed suspicious, and reminded me of some kind of church healing.
My biggest problem is how to work on a person using the light pressure that is necessary for some reason. I need to hold my hand up off a person a little to do that. Most of my clients would not stand for even 5 minutes of that kind of light touch. But I am going to practice on Michel, unbeknownst to him. Or anyone interested.
This therapy is supposed to be good for T.M.J. headaches. hearing, sinus problems. There is also evidence that it alleviates the symptoms of Autism and A.D.H.D.
I now know how to move the bones of the skull by request.
I had help from an amazing person and artist, Linda Platt, her blog here.
http://lindiart2.blogspot.com/
Her latest blog has an incredible film she made on her family's history during the mid 20th century
This has been something I've wanted to learn for a long time. Some of my teachers at both acupuncture and massage school loved this type of therapy and gave dramatic demo's often leading to a crying student. Crying but feeling better.
The therapy is very very light so the crying was a mystery to me.
The class was taught by a man that, to my great surprise, I had worked with at a clinic in Chicago ten years ago. He used to eat my snacks while I was in a room with a client. I'd come out of the room and find an empty bag. He lives in Iowa on a transcendental meditation commune where the residents meditate for world peace. They must share snacks.
There were several volunteer teaching assistants. They all introduced themselves and I thought one had an aura. But then I realized that she was standing in front of a wall sconce.
We had to go around the room and introduce ourselves. I said that my teachers could make people cry with this therapy and I am interested in making people cry.
The thing about CranioSacral therapy that remains a mystery is, It starts with feeling for the flow of an actual biological rhythm, but then you mostly imagine changing it. No one batted an eye at how it switches to energy work. These students were people who wore shirts that said, "We are all Connected" Or "Gratitude" These were the kind of people that when the teacher asked what makes up the body, one immediately yells "Spirit". One student said "I just had a colonic." while the teacher used her head to demonstrate moving the frontal bone. What did that have to do with her frontal bone I'll never know. I felt that maybe I have become too cynical in life. I was vasalating between excitement about these new techniques and major crises of faith in this type of healing.
Also, I should mention that the Chiropractor I work with, Dr. Jill Dortch, loves this type of medicine and she is of sound mind and a great healer of people.
The teacher was really good, he was entertaining, knew the info, and did several demonstrations. Two of which testified to an alleviation of symptoms. I forgave his snack transgressions. But he had a microphone clipped to his head and we would hear crunching noises at times and see that he was hiding in the corner snacking. Once we heard water running and we all realized he was in the bathroom with the microphone on. Luckily he was just washing his hands. One woman broke out crying the moment someone placed their hand on her chest, that seemed suspicious, and reminded me of some kind of church healing.
My biggest problem is how to work on a person using the light pressure that is necessary for some reason. I need to hold my hand up off a person a little to do that. Most of my clients would not stand for even 5 minutes of that kind of light touch. But I am going to practice on Michel, unbeknownst to him. Or anyone interested.
This therapy is supposed to be good for T.M.J. headaches. hearing, sinus problems. There is also evidence that it alleviates the symptoms of Autism and A.D.H.D.
I now know how to move the bones of the skull by request.
 | ||
| This I received for simply attending |
It was hard not see my yard this week. The garden is coming up better than ever.
http://lindiart2.blogspot.com/
Her latest blog has an incredible film she made on her family's history during the mid 20th century
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Traveling Molly's
I went to a poetry reading last night
http://myemail.constantcontact.com/May-9-at-The-Buzz-Cafe--Molly-s-features-Timothy-Yu-and-Donna-Vorreyer.html?soid=1103180195612&aid=QRNC3gtxue4
I went with Jean, one of my nine or so muses. She is a poet and has had several poems published.
And I read a poem I wrote about my boyfriend Michel
http://myemail.constantcontact.com/May-9-at-The-Buzz-Cafe--Molly-s-features-Timothy-Yu-and-Donna-Vorreyer.html?soid=1103180195612&aid=QRNC3gtxue4
I went with Jean, one of my nine or so muses. She is a poet and has had several poems published.
 |
| Jean in the foreground and Donna Vorreyer reading in the background |
And I read a poem I wrote about my boyfriend Michel
Ode to Michel (my bell)
Michel was a black and white picture. Even taken with color film. Achromatic and anachronistic it turned out he spent most of his life looking into old books and reading older texts. So many that he too was black and white. His hair made up of black or white letters, a language lost today. His eyes periods..
His smile in quotes. His front teeth old tablets. Perhaps of Moses.
His skin Papyrus, only sees the sun when running from one book to another
He told me he was reading
The Aeneid by Publius Virgilius Maro, in Latin.
He told me that in the classic Greek and Roman tales, such as The Odyssey and the Aeneid, the hero tends to go into the underworld.
I told him to be a hero already, and save me, in Berwyn.
I read it to a whole twenty or so people. And I didn't shake or cry. Yay
I enjoyed the other poetry a lot.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)