October 25, 2004
October 22, 2004
photo friday: "statement"
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October 21, 2004
whatever prospect
THE AUTUMN
Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them --
The summer flowers depart --
Sit still -- as all transform'd to stone,
Except your musing heart.
How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind.
Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.
Oh! like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us smile,
When Sorrow bids us weep!
The dearest hands that clasp our hands, --
Their presence may be o'er;
The dearest voice that meets our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the joys of youth,
Which once refresh'd our mind,
Shall come -- as, on those sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.
Hear not the wind -- view not the woods;
Look out o'er vale and hill --
In spring, the sky encircled them --
The sky is round them still.
Come autumn's scathe -- come winter's cold --
Come change -- and human fate!
Whatever prospect Heaven doth bound,
Can ne'er be desolate.
October 18, 2004
a tad surreal
Snapped this likeness of Salvador Dali the other day in a St. Louis wax museum. He didn't seem too concerned that his thumb had fallen off. In fact, since he was behind glass, I can only assume that he must have been the one who perched the missing digit on top of his easel for later reference. I kept my eyes peeled for Van Gogh and/or his ear...but alas, to no avail.
October 14, 2004
rama-lama-ding-dong decaf
This Dave Barry article, "Vini, vidi, venti: a tall coffee tale," courtesy of Kurt's blog had me laughing this morning about two of my favorite things -- coffee and the English language.
October 11, 2004
October 10, 2004
October 09, 2004
find a bigger box
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies. Nobody that matters, that is....
To be grown up is to sit at the table with people who have died, who neither listen nor speak; who do not drink their tea, though they always said tea was such a comfort.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay