Category Archives: A WAY OF LIFE

“It is an anxious, sometimes a dangerous thing to be a doll. Dolls cannot choose; they can only be chosen; they cannot ‘do’; they can only be done by.” Rumer Godden, The Dolls’ House

“He is the intermediary between us, his audience, the living, and they, the dolls, the undead, who cannot live at all and yet who mimic the living in every detail since, though they cannot speak or weep, still they project those signals of signification we instantly recognize as language.”

― Angela Carter, Wayward Girls and Wicked Women

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“The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found.” Calvin Trillin


“Preparing food is not just about yourself and others. It is about everything!”

 Shunryu Suzuki

“His resiliency was not the resiliency of the dumb but of a lamb who can remember hurt but cannot sustain the anger or the bitterness that brittles the heart.” Dean Koontz, Brother Odd

“Evening you gather back
all that dazzling dawn has put asunder:
you gather a lamb, gather a kid,
gather a child to its mother.”

Sappho, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho

Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn’t expect. Patrick Ness.

“Because we have viewed other animals through the myopic lens of our self-importance, we have misperceived who and what they are. Because we have repeated our ignorance, one to the other, we have mistaken it for knowledge.”

Tom Regan

May you walk gently through the world and know its beauty all the days of your life.

~ Apache Prayer

“Contrary to what a lot of people believe (or hope), comfort doesn’t take the pain away. Comfort slides in beside the pain, pulling up a chair so that we have something more than so…

Source: May you walk gently through the world and know its beauty all the days of your life.

Vessels large may venture more, but little boats should keep near shore.

QUARANTINE BAY OUT OF EDEN NSW

The Golden Boat

Clouds rumbling in the sky; teeming rain.
I sit on the river bank, sad and alone.
The sheaves lie gathered, harvest has ended,
The river is swollen and fierce in its flow.
As we cut the paddy it started to rain.

One small paddy-field, no one but me –
Flood-waters twisting and swirling everywhere.
Trees on the far bank; smear shadows like ink
On a village painted on deep morning grey.
On this side a paddy-field, no one but me.

Who is this, steering close to the shore
Singing? I feel that she is someone I know.
The sails are filled wide, she gazes ahead,
Waves break helplessly against the boat each side.
I watch and feel I have seen her face before.

Oh to what foreign land do you sail?
Come to the bank and moor your boat for a while.
Go where you want to, give where you care to,
But come to the bank a moment, show your smile –
Take away my golden paddy when you sail.

Take it, take as much as you can load.
Is there more? No, none, I have put it aboard.
My intense labour here by the river –
I have parted with it all, layer upon layer;
Now take me as well, be kind, take me aboard.

No room, no room, the boat is too small.
Loaded with my gold paddy, the boat is full.
Across the rain-sky clouds heave to and fro,
On the bare river-bank, I remain alone –
What had has gone: the golden boat took all.

Rabindranath Tagore

Albert Camus Kept an Emu Tied to a potted, Portable wisteria To keep him company Whilst he kept goal For the University of Algeria.

David Alexander Jackson
Apr 2014
Albert Camus And His Existential Emu

The Great Emu

Where sands are red and lands are dry
an Emu dreamed that he could fly.
He’d see the flyers finely dressed
and hear the Wombats say “look, they’re best!”
He saw his tattered feathers
They were wirey to wear.
They looked like wooden splinters
or a mammals head of hair!
He went to father Emu
“what’s the reason we can fly?’
“I flap my feathers fervently
but it’s futile to try!”
Father Emu answered simply “we were meant to run!
Forget this business about flight and let the thought be done.”
The Emu fled with great distress
and what was he to do?
He would try to finally fly
and leap from Uluru!
He made his way up to the top
of the greatest desert dwelling rock
and inched his way toward the brink.
Someone behind him called and said
“before you jump you think.”
The Emu swooped his neck around
and was shocked by what he saw.
A pink and gray, lovely bird, the flying great Gala!
The Emu said “but I can fly, this i know for sure!”
Replied the Gala honestly “if you jump you’ll hit the floor.”
The two then got to talking and the Emu left the ledge.
“Do not do that again” he said, “make me an Emus pledge”
He agreed and asked “what are you doing here?”
“I come to see the greatest bird and bird could ever peer.
They are the most graceful and elegant of birds
their wonderous abilities can’t be put to words.
Look! there comes one now, now you watch him run”
The Emu looked out to see something he was stunned!
The bird he held in high esteem wasn’t bright in hue
just basic brown, but beautiful, it was the great Emu!
“now get out there and run, do what you do best”
The Parrot said “and you forget the feathers on your dress.”
The Emu left great Uluru and ran with all his might.
He never thought once more about his feathers lack of flight.
He saw what he was born for
and that this had come to few.
He finally saw what’s really true

that he’s the Great Emu!

 

Summer afternoon… to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. ~ Henry James

I am weary, Weary of bracing myself against the sun’s hot hand; I am weary, and I dream of cool places .  Louis Lavater 1867 – 1953

Source: Summer afternoon… to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. ~ Henry James

My grandfather would walk into the house, on a summer evening after his work, then empty his catch of mud crabs into the bathtub.

My Grandfather’s Ice Pigeons – Robert Adamsom One becomes a grandfather and one sees the world a little differently. Certainly the world becomes a more vulnerable place when one has a g…

Source: My grandfather would walk into the house, on a summer evening after his work, then empty his catch of mud crabs into the bathtub.

she remembered watching a summer sunset from this very spot. Not so long ago; just a lifetime.” ― Sharon Kay Penman | THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

“What will happen to the spirit of this ancient dreaming land without the great mobs of kangaroos bounding across the song lines, energizing the land? Will the sunset and dawn mourn the passing of …

Source: she remembered watching a summer sunset from this very spot. Not so long ago; just a lifetime.” ― Sharon Kay Penman | THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

“There is a need to find and sing our own song, to stretch our limbs and shake them in a dance so wild that nothing can roost there, that stirs the yearning for solitary voyage.” ― Barbara Lazear Ascher

I cannot dance upon my Toes— No Man instructed me— But oftentimes, among my mind, A Glee possesseth me, That had I Ballet knowledge— Would put itself abroad In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe— Or lay …

Source: “There is a need to find and sing our own song, to stretch our limbs and shake them in a dance so wild that nothing can roost there, that stirs the yearning for solitary voyage.” ― Barbara Lazear Ascher

A man should avoid these six evils: lust, anger, avarice pleasure, pride, and rashness, for free of these he may be happy. (Sanskrit).

I Came to buy a smile—today—But just a single smile—The smallest one upon your faceWill suit me just as well—The one that no one else would missIt shone so very small—I’m pleading at the “counter”—…

Source: A man should avoid these six evils: lust, anger, avarice pleasure, pride, and rashness, for free of these he may be happy. (Sanskrit). | THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

Yunus Emre (1238 – 1320). True Speech is the Fruit of Not Speaking True speech is the fruit of not speaking. Too much talking clouds the heart.

Gathutha konagia mundu njira A little, contemptible path is sometimes the one that leads you to the highway. Muigwithania sites 2c foto – fruit in summer 09 ulmarra

Source: Yunus Emre (1238 – 1320). True Speech is the Fruit of Not Speaking True speech is the fruit of not speaking. Too much talking clouds the heart.

“I must have flowers, always, and always.” ― Claude Monet

“It’s so curious: one can resist tears and ‘behave’ very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer. – and everything collapses. ”

Colette

The trouble with most Englishwomen is that they will dress as if they had been a mouse in a previous incarnation – they do not want to attract attention. Edith Sitwell

“O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!’ (Alice thought this must be the right way of speaking to a mouse: she had never done such a thing before, but she remembered having seen in her brother’s Latin Grammar, ‘A mouse—of a mouse—to a mouse—a mouse—O mouse!’)”

Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass