ART SUNDAY - VIDA PEARSON

“Earth laughs in flowers.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

For Art Sunday today, a linocut print by a contemporary Australian artist, Vida Pearson. She was born in 1957, near Wonthaggi in Victoria, Australia.She spent 3 years at the North Adelaide School of Art between 1982 - 1984 majoring in printmaking and drawing. She has been a professional artist/printmaker since 1985. Vida has won over 100 prizes in art competitions. She exhibits regularly with several galleries and usually has a solo exhibition every couple of years.

The main thrust of her work is hand-coloured linocuts of birds and flora - particularly Australian banksias, grevilleas and eucalypts, which are particularly suited to this medium. She goes on field trips regularly within Australia and overseas to source new material and inspiration. A trip to Antarctica in 2004 was probably the most exceptional and inspirational of these trips for her. She also works in watercolour and pastel when the subject matter calls for it.

The linocut above is of a native Australian flower, perhaps the most magnificent one, the Waratah (Telopea speciosissima). Robert Brown (1773-1858) named the genus Telopea in 1810 from specimens collected in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney. Sir James Smith (1759-1828), a noted botanist and founder of the Linnaean Society in England, wrote in 1793: 'The most magnificent plant which the prolific soil of New Holland affords is, by common consent, both of Europeans and Natives, the Waratah. It is moreover a favourite with the latter, upon account of a rich honeyed juice which they sip from its flowers'.

The generic name Telopea is derived from the Greek 'telopos', meaning 'seen from afar', and refers to the great distance from which the crimson flowers are discernible. The specific name speciosissima is the superlative of the Latin adjective 'speciosus', meaning 'beautiful' or 'handsome'. 'Waratah', the Aboriginal name for the species, was adopted by early settlers at Port Jackson.

Telopea is an eastern Australian genus of four species. Two are confined to New South Wales, one to Tasmania and one extends from eastern Victoria into New South Wales. Telopea belongs to the family, Proteaceae, which is predominantly Australian and southern African. The Waratah is a stout, erect shrub, which may grow to 4 metres. The dark green leathery leaves, 13-25 cm in length, are arranged alternately and tend to be coarsely toothed. The flowers are grouped in rounded heads 7 to 10 cm in diameter surrounded by crimson bracts, about 5 to 7 cm long. It flowers from September to November and nectar-seeking birds act as pollinators. Large winged seeds are released when the brown leathery pods split along one side.

The species is fairly widespread on the central coast and adjoining mountains of New South Wales, occurring from the Gibraltar Range, north of Sydney, to Conjola in the south. It grows mainly in the shrub understory in open forest developed on sandstone and adjoining volcanic formations, from sea level to above 1000 metres in the Blue Mountains. Soils within its range tend to be sandy and low in plant nutrients. Rainfall is moderately high. Waratah plants resist destruction by bushfires, a natural element of their habitat, by regenerating from the rootstock. Flowering recommences two years after a moderate fire.

The Waratah is a spectacular garden subject in suitable soil and climate; it flowers prolifically and tends to be long-lived. The Waratah occurs naturally in at least ten national parks in the geological formation, know as the Sydney Basin. Brisbane Water, Dharug and Macquarie Pass National Parks are among the areas where this species is conserved. Waratahs are cultivated north of Sydney and in the Dandenong Ranges, Victoria. They are grown in Israel, New Zealand and Hawaii for the cut flower trade. It was introduced to England in 1789 but cannot survive English winters out of doors except in the south-west coastal regions, and it rarely flowers in glasshouses. It is also cultivated in California.

Enjoy your week!

BACH ON A SATURDAY NIGHT

“If a composer could say what he had to say in words he would not bother trying to say it in music.” - Gustav Mahler

Tonight I feel I need to just listen to Bach and then have a long sleep. Glen Gould playing the Prelude from English Suite no 5 is just right.

A MATTER OF TASTE

“Success without honor is an unseasoned dish; it will satisfy your hunger, but it won’t taste good.” - Joe Paterno

I suppose it would be remiss of me not to mention on this “Food Friday”, the finals of the Australian MasterChef TV program. Although I do not watch the show, it is very hard to escape the publicity it generates. Last night saw the elimination of a Melbourne contender and it is now a battle between the last two remaining contestants, NSW mother-of-three, Julie Godwin against Po Ling Yeow, an Adelaide artist. Apparently 2.36 million viewers tuned into the show last night, giving Channel 10 a ratings buzz. This is the fourth consecutive episode where MasterChef has won the ratings battle with competing channels.

The moral of the story is that food-related content sells. It sells on TV, in bookshops, on radio, in newspapers and magazines, on the internet. Food is such an integral part of our culture and of our life that it is an inescapable component of our existence. People apparently not only enjoy eating food, they also like to read about it, watch it being prepared, listen to people talking about it. We are all willing to experiment, try out new recipes, taste new dishes and tempt our jaded palates with new and thrilling combinations of ingredients.

The plethora of cooking programs on TV is matched by the countless cookbooks that are published every day, it seems. It is not by chance then, that the Australian MasterChef challenge centres around the contestants cooking recipes they would love to include in the first cookbook they will have published after their victory… Do you detect a marketing spin-off, here? Could this lead perhaps to a future TV cooking program where the winning contestant will continue the success generated by the publicity around the program?

I occasionally watch as a podcast the cooking program “The Cook and the Chef”, with Maggie Beer and Simon Bryant respectively. This program for the most part makes me cringe. I find the chef revolting as he must touch everything with his fingers, even when he doesn’t need to. His palpatory adventures apparently give him a high. The absolute revulsion is to see him eat the cooked food with his fingers (often getting burnt in the process, or having goo running down his wrists as he gulps down the food he tastes). I was expecting him to eat soup with his fingers in one of the episodes. I find most of the recipes he gives uninspiring and his manner is annoying, his mannerisms irritating. I guess you can say I am not a Simon Bryant fan.

Maggie Beer, as the cook, is much more sensible, although her association with the chef is contaminating her gentility! She used not to touch ingredients and food, but lately she is getting as bad as Simon. Maggie’s recipes tend to be more appealing and they do not depend so much on the effect a chef strives for. Lately I have gone off the program in a major way and will not watch it in the future, I think (for the reasons stated above, but mainly the disgusting handling of everything and the non-washing of hands – I haven’t seen them wash their hands once!).

I have blogged before about TV chefs, so I’ll stop myself promptly here. My palate has become quite jaded and I will not stomach many more of these programs or swallow any more of these unpalatable celebrity chefs. I like good food (increasingly of late, the simpler the food the better; the fresher it is of course, the more appealing I find it), but my life doesn’t revolve around it and gastronomic indulgences are not my style. In terms of your own taste, bon appétit to you if TV cooking is your thing!

TO FLIRT OR NOT TO FLIRT?

“If you're a gifted flirt, talking about the price of eggs will do as well as any other subject.” - Mignon McLaughlin

I had an extremely busy day today, with a workshop that involved staff from all of our campuses that are visiting Melbourne for two days in order to resolve some issues and plan ahead for the next semester. It was an intense day with much happening, presentations, discussions, work groups, activities and then dinner out for about 40 people. This dinner provided a good opportunity to relax and to talk with colleagues on a social level rather than a professional one. These social activities are a good way to build the teams and to relate to people that one works with.

Dinner was at Max’s restaurant in Hardware Lane in the City. This is a great restaurant with a good menu and wine list, reasonably priced and with great service. Although the food is down to earth, simple and not adventurous, it is done well and with style. We were served very quickly considering there 40 or so of us and we all enjoyed it immensely.

Another reason for the dinner was that we were saying farewell to a member of staff who is leaving our organisation and going back home to the USA. He has been with us for three years and as his contract is up (and his family wants to go back home) he thought it best to go back. He was an excellent professional and a good co-worker and he will be missed.

We gave him a couple of Australian art pieces as a farewell gift and we had the regulation speeches. In his speech he said how much he enjoyed living in Australia and how he would miss the place. One thing he said he would miss a lot would be the “flirting”. He said that a lot of the innocent flirting that went on in the workplace in Australia would lead to serious trouble in the USA and possibly people could get sued. That is so sad…

Flirting if done well is such fun. Max O'Rell said, “flirtation in attention without intention” and this is so true. It is a mark of high civilisation and the playfulness that is implicit in it is harmless. As I said, it must be done delicately and there is an element of innocent humour and good natured fun that underlies it (especially so in the workplace). Now to be sued for that, is completely crazy, in my opinion.

flirt |flərt| verb
1 [ intrans. ] Behave as though attracted to or trying to attract someone, but for amusement rather than with serious intentions: It amused him to flirt with her.
• ( flirt with) Experiment with or show a superficial interest in (an idea, activity, or movement) without committing oneself to it seriously: A painter who had flirted briefly with Cubism.
• ( flirt with) Deliberately expose oneself to (danger or difficulty): The need of some individuals to flirt with death.
2 [ trans. ] (of a bird) Wave or open and shut (its wings or tail) with a quick flicking motion.
• [ intrans. ] Move back and forth with a flicking or fluttering motion: The lark was flirting around the site.
noun
A person who habitually flirts.

DERIVATIVES
flirtation |-ˈtā sh ən| noun
flirtatious |-ˈtā sh əs| adjective
flirtatiously |-ˈtā sh əslē| adverb
flirtatiousness |-ˈtā sh əsnəs| noun
flirty |ˈflərdi| ( flirtier |ˈflərdiər|, flirtiest |ˈflərdi1st|).

ORIGIN mid 16th century: Apparently symbolic, the elements fl- and -irt both suggesting sudden movement; compare with flick and spurt . The original verb senses were [give someone a sharp blow] and [sneer at]; the earliest noun senses were [joke, gibe] and [flighty girl] (defined by Dr. Johnson as [a pert young hussey] ), with a notion originally of cheeky behaviour, later of playfully amorous behaviour.

Jacqui BB hosts Word Thursday

MOONTIME

“Time is the fire in which we burn.” - Delmore Schwartz

Time is an elastic concept. It’s made of mist and moonbeams, sunrays and shadows. Time crawls, time flies, time cheats us and rewards us. Time mocks us and is deadly serious in its dealings with us. Time alters our perspectives, shifts our judgment, changes our emotions and wreaks havoc with the way that we view the world. Time laughs with us, and at us. It can dry our tears or evince a flood of them where there was only pure joy just before.

This poem was written more than twenty years ago, when times were different for me and when the end of the world threatened to engulf me. Tears, pain, agony were mine then, and now I can barely remember the depths of the despair that I felt; the reminder being these words scratched on an old notebook. Time heals the wounds of the heart and dulls the pain of our soul. Our mind conspires with it and what was madness then, is only a sweet nostalgia now.

Nocturne in G Minor

In the serenity of sweet night
Which glides on softest skin like a caress,
I seek you still…
And when the moonlight calls out to me,
To bathe in its beams anew,
I cannot bear it, I must remember you.

But how can I find you?
How can I run to meet you
Now that my heart has lost its compass,
Now that there are no signs from you?
I seek you still…
And reason screams, and warns against it!
I must not repeat the same mistakes it tells me.

And yet, I search for you,
Your image faint and delicate,
Wandering like a lone firefly
In the dark fields of my mind.
I seek you still…
How can I not remember you,
How can I not desire you more than ever?

You left, and I promised I’d forget you.
I said it would be hard, but I would do it
Even if I had to reforge myself in steel.
And yet, each evening of the full moon
When that shining orb of ours rises,
It’s then that I miss you most.
I fail to keep my promises and I admit,
I love you even now,
I remember you evermore,
I seek you still…

Jacqui BB hosts poetry Wednesday

VIVE LE QUATORZE JUILLET!

“The love of one’s country is a splendid thing. But why should love stop at the border?” - Pablo Casals

Happy Bastille Day! July the 14th is the day on which France celebrates its National Day. It commemorates the day of the storming of the Bastille, which took place on 14 July 1789 and marked the beginning of the French Revolution. The Bastille was a prison and a symbol of the absolute and arbitrary power of Louis the 16th's Ancient Regime. By capturing this symbol, the people signalled that the king's power was no longer absolute and that power should be based on the people and be limited by a separation of powers.

The Bastille only held seven prisoners at the time of its capture, however, the storming of the prison was a symbol of liberty and the fight against oppression for all French citizens. The revolution in France upheld the Republic’s three ideals: Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity for all French citizens, a symbolism duplicated in the nation’s tricolour flag. It marked the end of absolute monarchy, the birth of the sovereign Nation, and, eventually, the creation of the (First) Republic, in 1792. Bastille Day was declared the French national holiday on 6th July 1880, on Benjamin Raspail's recommendation, when the new Republic was firmly entrenched.

For the wordy types amongst you (me included!), Bastille is an alternate spelling of bastide meaning “fortification”. Bastide comes from the Provençal word bastida meaning “built”. There is also a French verb embastiller with the meaning “to establish troops in a prison”.

To celebrate the day in a suitably French manner, here is something delicious to drink:

CHAMPAGNE PUNCH

Ingredients
1 large pineapple
2 oranges
5 passionfruits
1 apple
1 punnet strawberries
6 tablespoonfuls icing sugar
1 cupful brandy
2 bottles of Champagne

Method
Peel and clean the pineapple, chopping into small cubes and put into a large bowl. Juice the oranges and add to the pineapple. Wash and hull the strawberries, leaving them to drain. Half them and add to the bowl. Peel the apple and chop finely into the bowl. Add the passionfruit pulp to the bowl and stir in the sugar until it is dissolved. Stir in the brandy and put the bowl into the freezer, until almost frozen solid. Break into chunks, put into a punch bowl and pour the chilled champagne over the fruit mixture. Vive la France!

France is a Western European country with shores on the Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea. It has an area of 544,000 square km and a population of 60 million. Its terrain is varied with high plateaux, mountain ranges and lowland basins. Its climate is mild ranging from typical Mediterranean in the South, to mild and wet further to the North. Agriculture is favoured by both land and climate making France one of the major European exporters of wheat, barley, sugar beet and wine. Manufacturing is the other major employer with rich reserves of oil, gas and coal assisting greatly the economy. French perfumes and other luxury goods are a major income earner while tourism is also a major industry. Paris is the capital city with other major cities being Lyon, Marseille, Bordeaux, Lille, Grenoble, Rouen, Nantes and Toulouse.



The painting above is by an anonymous painter and depicts the storming of the Bastille.

MOVIE MONDAY - THE WILD BUNCH

“There is a great streak of violence in every human being. If it is not channeled and understood, it will break out in war or in madness.” - Sam Peckinpah

At the weekend we watched one of those Hollywood genre films that made Hollywood what it is, for better or worse. It was rather nostalgic watching it and seeing some of the actors that have long since passed away, such as William Holden Robert Ryan, Edmond O’Brien, Warren Oates, Ben Johnson and one of the old school who has good genes and is still hanging on at 92 years, Ernest Borgnine. The film was Sam Peckinpah’s Western of 1969, “The Wild Bunch”. The film was very violent as far as Westerns go, but I guess it had to cater to late 1960s tastes (remember the violence in “Bonnie and Clyde”?).

Pike Bishop (Holden) and his ageing gang of outlaws have staged a daring train robbery at Starbuck, South Texas in the first decade of the 20th century. The robbery goes awry and the gang head south across the Rio Grande and into Mexico. They are being pursued by Deke Thornton (Ryan, a former partner of Pike’s who doesn’t want to go back to jail and for whom killing the bunch is the one unpleasant means of securing his freedom) and his men, made up of bounty hunters. They had been hired by the railroad to stop Bishop and his gang from robbing the rail depot and now have 30 days to track them down and kill them. Bishop and his men plan to spend only a short time in Mexico and then cross back into Texas to continue their banditry. However, a violent Mexican generalissimo who wants them to rob a U.S. train carrying arms persuades them to stick around and reap the $10,000 in gold. They carry out the robbery successfully, but it leads to a terrifying final confrontation.

The film is one of the last big Westerns to come out of Hollywood seeing how the genre had its heyday in the 40s, 50s and early 60s. In the 70s, the traditional Western gave its place to the offbeat one and in a way, the plot of “The Wild Bunch” is an indication of the end of an era in Hollywood. The myth created by John Wayne as the “Good Cowboy”, the shining angel-like presence of Shane, the heroism of Gary Cooper in “High Noon” are all negated by the immorality and gross realism depicted in this demythologising movie. Peckinpah takes every opportunity to “tell it like it was” and the bloody, violent images assault the senses of the viewer with their grimness. One of the most disturbing images for me was in the opening sequences of the film with some children torturing scorpions and ants. This sets the scene for the horrors that follow and prepares the viewer for the bloodbath of the ending.

The movie is acted superbly and the direction is masterly. Cinematography is wonderful and the colours fresh and brilliant (OK, the blood was a bit too red!). The scenes in Mexico are extremely authentic and the poetry of some of the faces Peckinpah shows us is quite amazing. In fact the Mexicans in the background observing the action and who become unwittingly involved are almost like a silent Greek chorus in a tragedy.

The film is loved and hated equally vehemently, and personally I enjoyed seeing it, although violence for its own sake, gratuitous violence is abhorrent. There was a similar controversy about Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ”. We also watched this recently and I must admit that I felt that the violence in the Gibson film was too much and detracted from the plot. Too much violence loses its power and in the case of “The Passion”, the gratuitous violence made one believe that the film was a vehicle for sadists rather than as a demonstration of man’s inhumanity to man and the condemnation of an innocent to a terrible death. Oddly, I did not have the same feeling with “The Wild Bunch”, although I admit that the faint-hearted would find this film challenging.

Peckinpah depicts violence graphically in his movies and with the release of “The Wild Bunch”, easily the most violent Western made and one of the most violent movies of all time, he earned his nickname “Bloody Sam”. A drunk, a coke addict, a sentimental romantic, possibly schizophrenic, a little man with a big chip on his shoulders, Peckinpah was said to be many things. By the end of the 1970s, he disappeared into obscurity; yet after he died, he began to re-emerge as an influential director who left a rich cinematic legacy (“Straw Dogs”, “The Osterman Weekend”, “The Ballad of Cable Hogue”, “The Getaway” and many more).

Have you seen this film? What did you think?

ART SUNDAY - TURNER AND THE END OF AN ERA

“As contraries are known by contraries, so is the delight of presence best known by the torments of absence.” - Alcibiades

For my last Art Sunday blog on Yahoo 360, a painting by J.M.W. Turner, “The Fighting Temeraire” of 1838. It is displayed in the National Gallery in London, and shows the last ship from Admiral Nelson’s force at Trafalgar. It rises ghost-like, but still majestic, on the left of the canvas, and is shown being towed towards its final berth in East London in 1838 to be broken up for scrap. It is being passed by a steamboat. The painting shows the end of the sailing era and the beginning of the steam era. The old ship rises ethereally and elegantly above the water on a background of mist and blue sky, while the steamboat, dark and solid, hugs the water and pollutes the air above it with clouds of smoke. One technology is coming to an end, and another is beginning. The painting illustrates change, the only constant thing in this world.

On the right, close to the horizon is the sun, which may be setting or may be rising, depending on which boat you are travelling on. High up on the left is the moon, waxing or waning, once again depending on your perspective. One may look back or forward, may embrace change and make the best of it, or else may stick with things that have passed and be, in time, an amusing anachronism.

There is a strong sense of nostalgia and loss in the painting. Turner is thought to have represented here the decline of Britain’s naval power, so for him it is definitely a waning moon above the sunset and hence the ethereal sailing ship rising wraith-like above the waters, evoking the glorious past. Turner was in his sixties when he painted this canvas and his mastery of the medium and the artistry of colour usage is manifest. Sea and sky are rendered in paint laid on thickly and the essence of the light of the sun’s rays striking the clouds is beautifully done. The ship's rigging is meticulously painted, by contrast, in thinner and carefully applied colour.

When this painting was first exhibited, a London reviewer by the name of William Makepeace Thackeray wrote the following about Turner’s painting: “It is absurd to grow so politically enthusiastic about a four foot canvas, representing a ship, a steamer, a river and a sunset. But herein lies the power of the great artist. He makes you see and think of a great deal more than the object before you; he knows how to soothe or intoxicate, to fire or depress, by a few notes, or forms, or colours, of which we cannot trace the effects to the source, but acknowledge the power.”

Goodbye to everyone on Yahoo 360, see you at Google’s blogger, where I can be found here:

http://nicholasjv.blogspot.com/

“Don’t be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetime, is certain for those who are friends.” - Richard Bach

TIME FOR GOODBYES

“Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.” - Dr. Seuss

The days of Yahoo are numbered. Every time I log in, I get the message that the countdown is nearing time zero when it will be shut down. It’s sad, as it was here that I became part of a virtual community where I met some wonderful people and had some great conversations. I exercised my mind, I was moved, I was entertained, laughed, shed a tear or two, made a few good friends. Time passes, alters everything, changes us. Nothing stays the same, nothings is so good it lasts forever. All this that we had at Yahoo was a special moment in time and our memories are made of such moments. We enjoyed it while it lasted, now we move on.

You can find me continuing to blog at:

http://nicholasjv.blogspot.com/

Some of my friends from Yahoo have already migrated there, I hope to see you there too. I dedicate this song to all my friends and acquaintances here at Yahoo 360. It’s been great!



Time
Alan Parsons Project

Time,
Flowing like a river,
Time,
Beckoning me.
Who knows when we shall meet again, if ever
But time, keeps flowing like a river, to the sea.
Goodbye my love, maybe for forever.
Goodbye my love, the tide waits for me.
Who knows when we shall meet again, if ever.

But time, keeps flowing like a river...
On and on, to the sea, to the sea...
Till its gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forever
Ah, forever!

Goodbye my friend, maybe for forever?
Goodbye my friend,
Who knows when we shall meet again.
The stars wait for me.
Who knows when we shall meet again, if ever.
But time, keeps flowing like a river
To the sea, to the sea
Till its gone forever
Gone forever
Gone forever
Ah! Forever more!
Forever more!
Forever more!

RECIPE BOOKS

“I refuse to believe that trading recipes is silly. Tuna fish casserole is at least as real as corporate stock.” - Barbara Grizzuti Harrison

Do you own a recipe book? I don’t mean the printed variety, rather, the good old-fashioned handwritten one, where favourite recipes have been added gradually and lovingly. A recipe book with a personal touch. One perhaps that you have inherited from your mother or grandmother? A beloved aunt, maybe? Surely everyone must have one of those kinds of recipe books. Once upon a time of course they were the only recipe books around and they included recipes not only for food, but also recipes for medicines and beauty aids, cosmetics and make-up.

Recipes and recipe books were the glue that bound social networking within families in the past. The circulation of recipes and collections of them in books lubricated the wheels of friendship and united families. They were the means whereby relationships were cemented and maintained the connections between the generations. How many old family recipes are still jealously guarded today lest an outsider get hold of them? Indeed, some of these old recipes still form the basis of many a large and profitable business, for example, Tabasco sauce…

With the advent of printing, recipe books became one of the staples of the industry, together with bibles and other religious books. People’s fascination with food and the way to prepare it assured these early printers of a steady market for their wares. Rather than the plethora of cookbooks that we see today, in the past they were few and famous. Mrs Beeton, for example, published her renowned one in 1861: “The Book of Household Management Comprising information for the Mistress, Housekeeper, Cook, Kitchen-Maid, Butler, Footman, Coachman, Valet, Upper and Under House-Maids, Lady’s-Maid, Maid-of-all-Work, Laundry-Maid, Nurse and Nurse-Maid, Monthly Wet and Sick Nurses, etc. etc.—also Sanitary, Medical, & Legal Memoranda: with a History of the Origin, Properties, and Uses of all Things Connected with Home Life and Comfort.”

As over 900 of the 1,112 pages of the Beeton book, contained recipes, the popular name for the volume is Mrs Beeton's Cookbook. Most of the recipes were illustrated with coloured engravings, and it was the first book to show recipes in the format that is still used today. Many of the recipes were plagiarised from earlier writers, but this was common practice and the Beetons never claimed that the book's contents were original. After all, we all do this with recipes and each cook will add his or her own personal touch.

Older cookbooks are delightful to read as they are very quaint and sometimes use ingredients that are quite outlandish or outright bizarre. Here is a recipe from Anne Fanshawe’s recipe book of about 1664. It is believed to be the first recipe for ice cream in English:

“To make Icy Cream

Take three pints of the best cream, boyle it with a blade of Mace, or else perfume it with orang flowerwater or Ambergreece, sweeten the cream with sugar, let it stand till it is Quite cold, then put it into Boxes, either of Silver or tinn, then take Ice chopped into small peeces and putt it into a tub and set the Boxes in the ice covering them all over, and let them stand in the Ice two hours, and the Cream Will come to be Ice in the Boxes, then turne them out into a salver with some of the same Seasoned Cream, so serve it up at the Table.”

What is the oldest recipe you have? Where did you find, who gave it to you? Is it a good one?

THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH

“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.” - Mark Twain
Rapa Nui is the indigenous name of Easter Island, a Polynesian island in the southeastern Pacific Ocean, at the most southeastern point of the Polynesian triangle. It is a special territory of Chile annexed in 1888. Easter Island is most famous for its monumental statues, called moai created by the Rapanui people. It is a world heritage site with much of the island protected within the Rapa Nui National Park. An interesting drug which is currently in the news is rapamycin (also called sirolimus). It is an immunosuppressant drug that is used to prevent rejection in organ transplantation (especially useful in kidney transplants).

Rapamycin is a macrolide, drug that was found to be a product of the bacterium Streptomyces hygroscopicus in a soil sample from Easter Island (Rapa Nui, hence the name. The drug was first used as an antifungal antibiotic. However, this use was stopped when it was discovered that it had very potent immunosuppressive and anti-proliferative properties. That is it prevents the rejection of transplanted tissue and also it can reduce the growth of cancers.

A study was published yesterday as a letter to the prestigious journal Nature and it indicates that rapamycin can prolong the life of mice, and I quote from the article:

“…rapamycin fed to mice beginning at 270 days of age also increased survival in both males and females, based on an interim analysis conducted near the median survival point. Rapamycin may extend lifespan by postponing death from cancer, by retarding mechanisms of ageing, or both.”

The increase in lifespan is up to 38% in mice. If this increase in lifespan were translated to human years, it might allow humans to easily live more than a hundred years. The elusive youth serum has been found? The experimental data is certainly highly suggestive, but it may well be more than 5-10 years before we see it on the pharmacy shelves. The interest in its anti-ageing effects may speed up research, there is big money in this.

Other drugs may be used as agents for extending life. For example, resveratrol isolated from grape pips (yes, you should eat them together with the grapes!), which has also prolonged life in lab mice. Resveratrol is now a common ingredient in vitamin supplements and heath food store merchandise. Other research looks at identifying what precisely cause some animals to live longer than others. It appears that bats, for example, live longer because of the way their proteins are constructed.

Human beings have been searching for the “fountain of youth”, the “philosopher’s stone”, the “aqua vitae”, the “elixir of youth” for thousands of years. Every culture has legends about perpetual youth and how to attain it. It is a reaction against our mortality, against the ravages of age that manifest themselves all too soon. It is a psychological weapon against the host of terrible disease that become so very much more common the older we get. The Fountain of Youth is the legendary spring that reputedly restores youth in anyone who drinks of its waters. Florida was described as its location and the Spanish explorer Juan Ponce de León, Puerto Rico's first Governor, is associated with its search. He was searching for the Fountain of Youth when he travelled to Florida, which he thought to be an island. He explored Florida in 1513 but never found the elusive fountain.

The scientists investigating Rapamycin may be like Ponce de Léon. Rapamycin can have serious side effects, because of its immune suppressant properties. Long term consumption can make users susceptible to opportunistic infections. It has also been linked to hyperlipidaemia (high levels of triglycerides in the blood), which can lead to heart disease. It's unclear whether these problems would counteract any longevity benefit that rapamycin might provide in humans.

Interesting, considering what may lie around the corner. A prolongation of life, a reduction in cancer incidence, a healthier old age. At the same time, we must learn to accept the idea of senescence, of death, of our own mortality…

senescence |səˈnesəns| noun
Biology: The condition or process of deterioration with age.
• loss of a cell's power of division and growth.
DERIVATIVES
senescent |səˈnɛsnt| adjective
ORIGIN: Latin, senex ‘old man.’

Jacqui BB hosts Word Thursday

LOSS AND REGRETS

“We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.” - Kenji Miyazawa

We often hear that one does not appreciate what one has until one loses it. It is certainly true and perhaps it does not apply anywhere more aptly than in the realm of relationships. Taking people for granted is something that is too commonplace. Assuming that the person who loves us will always be there and take anything we dish out has been the undoing of many a relationship. Waking up one morning and finding that special person gone brings home the awful meaning of that old saw: You don’t appreciate what you have until you lose it…

Celebration

I lit the chandelier in the drawing room
And turned the music on, loud.
I feign a cool indifference
As I roam in empty rooms,
Singing sotto voce now and then,
So that I hear a voice in the desert.

I look at an old photograph of yours
And drink drop by drop your wine –
How bitter-sweet it tastes.
My voice breaks and is shattered
By a sob, unexpected, loud.
Each teardrop that falls, is pleading
“Come back, don’t torture me any longer…”

The light burns bright in shining crystal
While within me darkness stifles me.
The music plays, loud, and the house is filled
But my soul won’t hear it, it cannot.
I think of you, I see you, I hear you
But my empty hand won’t be fooled
And clutches emptiness as my fingers grip
A handful of nothing, nowhere, never.

Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday

TANABATA & SHINTO

“Every man prefers belief to the exercise of judgment.” - Seneca

The Hoshi Matsuri is a Shinto festival celebrated in Japan today. It commemorates the two Tanabata lovers who were separated by a raging river. Magpies took pity on them and formed a living feathered bridge across which the two lovers were reunited. The lovers were fixed in the firmanent as stars (Cowherd Star [Altair] and Weaver Star [Vega]), but unfortunately, still separated by the Milky Way. They get together once every year on the seventh day of the seventh month. Japanese families tie samples of their children’s handwriting to bamboo poles and offer them to the lovers in hope of improving their children’s script. This has evolved from an ancient Chinese myth to which the following Chinese poem alludes:

The Seventh Night of the Seventh Month
To “Magpie Bridge”

Sparse clouds and faintly glowing moon–
Where can the bridge be built?
Surely the magpies are many and the crows few.
Between the mortals a nightly sharing of the net curtains,
But alas! How quickly does wedded bliss grow cold.
For a whole year there is the grief of separation,
And now in early autumn there is the glad reunion.
All through this night the two stars dread the coming of dawn
And I ask: “Had they not been separated by the Milky Way,
How could they have felt the full joy of their reunion?”

Hsü Tsuan-Tsêng (17th century AD)

Shinto is an ancient Japanese religion, which is believed to have started at about 500 BCE (some say even earlier). It was originally an amorphous mix of nature worship, fertility cults, divination techniques, hero worship, and shamanism. Its name was derived from the Chinese words “shin tao” (The Way of the Gods) in the 8th Century CE. Shinto has no real founder, no written scriptures, no body of religious law, and only a very loosely-organized priesthood.

Many texts are valued in the Shinto religion. Most date from the 8th century CE, for example, the Kojiki (Record of Ancient Matters), which is the the mythological history of Japan. The Gods of Shinto, which is a polytheistic religion, are said to have created Japan as their image of paradise on Earth, and placed the emperor as its true ruler. The Emperor is a direct descendant of Amaterazu, the Goddess of the Sun.

Other famous Shinto texts are the Rokkokushi (Six National Histories), the Shoku Nihongi or Nihon Shoki (Continuing Chronicles of Japan) and the Jinno Shotiki (a study of Shinto and Japanese politics and history), which was written in the 14th century

Shinto recognises many sacred places: Mountains, springs, forests, etc. Shrines are built in these places and each shrine is dedicated to a specific Kami who has a divine personality and responds to sincere prayers of the faithful. When entering a shrine, one passes through a Tori, a special gateway for the Gods. It marks the demarcation between the finite world and the infinite world of the Gods. Believers respect animals as messengers of the Gods. A pair of statues of “Koma-inu” (guard dogs) face each other within the temple grounds.

In the past, believers practiced “misogi”, the washing of their bodies in a river near the shrine. In recent years they only wash their hands and wash out their mouths in a washbasin provided within the shrine grounds. Shrine ceremonies, which include cleansing, offerings, prayers, and dances are directed to the Kami.

Kagura are ritual dances accompanied by ancient musical instruments. The dances are performed by skilled and trained dancers. They consist of young virgin girls, a group of men, or a single man. Mamori are charms worn as an aid in healing and protection. There come in many different forms for various purposes. An altar, the "Kami-dana" (Shelf of Gods), is given a central place in many homes.

Seasonal celebrations are held at spring planting, fall harvest, and special anniversaries of the history of a shrine or of a local patron spirit. A country-wide National Founding Day is held on February 11th of each year. Other festivals include: January 1st – 3rd Oshogatsu (New Year); March 3rd Ohinamatsuri (Girls' festival); May 5th Tango no Sekku (Boys' festival); and July 7th Hoshi Matsuri (Star festival). Followers are expected to visit Shinto shrines at the times of various life passages. For example, the “Three-five-seven matsuri” involves a blessing by the shrine Priest of girls aged 3 and 7 and boys aged 5 and is held on November 15th.

Many followers are involved in the "offer a meal movement." in which each individual bypasses a breakfast (or another meal) once per month and donates the money saved to their religious organisation for international relief and similar activity.

Origami ("Paper of the spirits"): This is a Japanese folk art in which paper is folded into beautiful shapes. They are often seen around Shinto shrines. Out of respect for the tree spirit that gave its life to make the paper, origami paper is never cut.

Shinto is different to most religions because of a few reasons:

• It is polytheistic, believing in several gods.
• It has very little theology
• It practices no congregational worship.

One of the most recognised Shinto arts is calligraphy, the types of paper, styles of writing, inks and utensils and methods of pressures on the paper are all variables that add beauty and style to this very ancient art.

SUNDAY MATINEE & ROMAN HISTORY

“An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.” - G.K. Chesterton

I had a head cold over the weekend and it was a good excuse to stay in and get some work done. Dosing myself on medication so the symptoms abated, I was able to get most of the last work on my book finalised. It is quite a big project and the last part of it is related to illustrations, photographs and diagrams, graphs and charts, about 40 per chapter, at 24 chapters that’s close to about 1000 illustrations. Not a mean feat working through and ensuring that they are all exactly what is required, of adequate resolution, correctly labeled and relevantly placed within the text. Nevertheless, they’re all done and now the completed manuscript will go off to the publishers.

Despite the work, we had some time to relax also and see a movie or two. One of them was an old film, Henry Hathaway’s 1957 “Legend of the Lost” starring a famous trio: John Wayne, Sophia Loren and Rossano Brazzi. This was a real adventure story, a kind of toned down precursor of the Indiana Jones movies. The core of the movie, however, was more serious with a moral, and a love story thrown in for good measure. It was slightly reminiscent of Somerset Maugham’s short story “Rain” in its tale of sin and redemption.

The plot centres on three people and the relationships amongst them. Paul Bonnard (Rossano Brazzi) arrives in Timbuktu in search of a guide to escort him into the Sahara desert. American Joe January (John Wayne) reluctantly takes the job despite misgivings about Bonnard’s undisclosed plans. Dita (Sophia Loren), a prostitute who has been deeply moved by Bonnard’s spiritual nature after a long conversation she has with him, follows the two men into the desert. Once in the Sahara, Bonnard reveals his plans. He has a letter from his father who wrote to him about a lost city in the desert where there is hidden a fabulous treasure. After some days trekking through the sands, the trio arrives in the ruins of a Roman city, where Bonnard hopes to discover the legacy of his father. What Bonnard finds alters him in unexpected ways, with tragic results.

Once you get over the observation that there is almost no chemistry between the leads, John Wayne and Sophia Loren, the movie was fun and reminded me of the sort of movies I used to watch on TV as a child. There was quite a lot of colour and action, adventure and romance (in the sense of a feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life) and the ruined city was fantastic. The ruined city is referred to as “Timgad” in the film. This is a Holywoodian geographical blooper as the distance from Timbuktu (in Mali) to Timgad (in Algeria) is about 3,500 km – definitely not possible given the time course of the trek depicted in the film.

Timgad was the ancient Roman city of Thamugadi on the high plateau north of the Aurès Mountains in northeastern Algeria, which offers the most thoroughly excavated and one of the most well-preserved Roman remains in North Africa. Thamugadi, founded by the emperor Trajan in AD 100, proved to be of strategic importance in the defence of Numidia. Its long prosperity was derived from the fertility of the surrounding territory. In the late 4th century it became the seat of the bishop Optatus, one of the most ardent supporters of Donatism, a heretical Christian movement, and the stronghold was sacked by Berbers in the early 6th century, toward the end of the Vandal supremacy in Africa.

The 10,000–15,000 inhabitants of Thamugadi lived in a classic Roman type of city, quasi-military in appearance, with all streets intersecting at right angles. That life there was comfortable is evidenced by the remains of a forum, a public library (4th century AD), a theatre capable of holding about 4,000 people, and an exceptionally large number of public baths.

This of course is at variance with the directions given to Bonnard by his father, as the city he described was Ophir, a lost city mentioned in the Bible. This was a mythical place, famous for its wealth. King Solomon is supposed to have received a cargo of gold, silver, sandalwood, precious stones, ivory, apes and peacocks from Ophir, every three years. Many Egyptian pharaohs reported sending naval expeditions to Punt (Somaliland) for monkeys, ivory, frankincense, and slaves lends credence to an East African site. On the other hand, the Jewish historian Josephus and St. Jerome evidently understood that India was the location of Ophir. The Hebrew words for the products of Ophir may be derived from Indian languages; furthermore, sandalwood and peacocks are commonly found in India, whereas, at least in modern times, they do not exist in East Africa.

The real location where the was shot film is neither Timgad, nor Ophir! It is Leptis Magna in Libya. This is a magnificent ancient site, the largest city of the ancient region of Tripolitania. It is located 100 km southeast of Tripoli on the Mediterranean coast of Libya. Lying 3 km east of what is now Al-Khums. Leptis Magna contains some of the world’s finest remains of Roman architecture. It was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1982. The city was founded as early as the 7th century BC by Phoenicians, it was later settled by Carthaginians, probably at the end of the 6th century BC. Its natural harbour at the mouth of the Wadi Labdah contributed to the city's growth as a major Mediterranean and trans-Saharan trade centre, and it also became a market for agricultural production in the fertile coastland region.

Near the conclusion of the Second Punic War, it passed in 202 BC to Masinissa's Numidian kingdom, from which it broke away in 111 BC to become an ally of Rome. Through the 1st century AD, however, it retained several of its Punic legal and cultural traditions, including its municipal constitution and the official use of the Punic language. The Roman emperor Trajan (reigned AD 98–117) designated Leptis a colonia (community with full rights of citizenship). The emperor Septimius Severus (AD 193–211), who was born at Leptis, conferred upon it the jus Italicum (legal freedom from property and land taxes) and became a great patron of the city. Under his direction an ambitious building program was initiated, and the harbour, which had been artificially enlarged in the 1st century AD, was improved again. Over the following centuries, however, Leptis began to decline because of the increasing insecurity of the frontiers, culminating in a disastrous incursion in 363, and the growing economic difficulties of the Roman Empire. After the Arab conquest of 642, the status of Leptis as an urban centre effectively ceased, and it fell into ruin.

So, there you go a B grade movie got me to review my ancient Roman history and to find out something more about Leptis Magna and Timgad.
Enjoy your week!

ART SUNDAY - SARGENT

“A portrait is a picture of a person with something wrong with the mouth.” - John Singer Sargent

Today for Art Sunday, John Singer Sargent (born in Florence, 12 Jan 1856; died in London, 25 April 1925). He was and American painter and draughtsman, active in England. Sargent was the most fashionable portrait painter working in England and the USA in the late 19th century. He was brought up by expatriate American parents in an environment of restless travel and an insulated family life. On both sides of the Atlantic the famous Sargent was sought after to paint portraits of American businessmen and financiers, English manufacturers and their wives, fashionable Edwardian aristocrats, and the English gentry. The international art community admired his style of seemingly effortless, bravura brushwork and dashing likenesses.

Best known is his portrait “Madame X” (Madame Gautreau, one of the most elegant and fashion-conscious beauties of Parisian society), which created a scandal at the 1884 Salon; critics found it eccentric and erotic, and the sitter's mother claimed it made her daughter a laughingstock. Discouraged, he moved permanently to London, though he often visited the U.S. He tired of portrait requests and increasingly turned his attention to painting his sisters Emily Sargent and Violet Ormond and Violet's family, and, more and more, holiday subjects in watercolor and oil.

Sargent was cosmopolitan in outlook, a linguist, a fine pianist and an avid reader of the classics. The spirit of self-sufficiency and isolation, both physical and emotional, remained with him all his life. He never married, grew wary of emotional entanglements and remained closest to his sisters, especially the eldest, Emily.

Here is his “Nonchaloir” (Repose), of 1911. It is 64 x 76 cm, oil on canvas and exhibitied at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. The painting is characteristic of Sargent in that the style is relaxed and effortless and manages with a limited palette and easy fluid strokes to evoke the essence of “rest”. The woman in Repose is Sargent’s niece, Rose-Marie Ormond Michel. The portrait is informal and the sitter is depicted as a languid, anonymous figure absorbed in poetic reverie. The consummate luxury and nonchalance is documenting the end of an era. The lingering aura of fin-de-siècle gentility would soon be shattered by massive political and social upheaval in the early twentieth century.

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

“Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom, must, like men, undergo the fatigue of supporting it.” - Thomas Paine

Happy Fourth of July!

Today, as it is Independence Day for the USA, something appropriate. A march by John Philip Sousa, the famous “Stars and Stripes Forever”. This is one of my favourite Souza marches, especially the lyrical second part beginning at 1:10.



And to stay in an American mood, today is also the birthday of Stephen Foster (1826 – 1864), the “Father of American music” and composer of many classic songs such as “Oh, Susannah!”, “Old Folks at Home”, Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair”, “Camptown Races”, etc. Here is a lovely lullaby, “Beautiful Dreamer”, sung by another great Roy Orbison:



Enjoy your weekend!

APPLE PIE

“If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.” - Carl Sagan

When I was visiting the USA several years ago, I was invited to dinner at a colleague’s house. The family was delightful and the dinner very good. However, what stuck in my mind was the excellent apple pie, which was definitely home made and the pride of the hostess (with good reason too)! She was even kind enough to supply the recipe:

American Apple Pie
Ingredients Pastry:
• 3/4 cup butter
• 5 tablespoons cold water
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon salt

Filling:
• 6 large new season apples
• Juice of 1/2 lemon
• 4 tbsp. apple cider
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1 tsp. ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ground cloves
• 6 tbsp. blanched, toasted almonds
• 1 tbsp. sugar
• 1/3 cup heavy cream
• 1 egg yolk
• 2 tbsp. milk or cream

Method
1. Peel, core and slice the apples. Put in a large mixing bowl and sprinkle with lemon juice. Toss the apples with the cider, sugar, cinnamon and cloves. Let stand for up to an hour, tossing from time to time.

2. Preheat oven to 200°C. Place butter, water, flour and salt in food processor bowl. Process just until dough clumps together - about 5 seconds. Divide the dough in half and shape each half into a 6-inch pancake. Center one pancake inside a 25 x 30 cm plastic bag. Sprinkle a few drops of water on the countertop to hold the plastic bag in place. Smooth out the bag and begin rolling the pastry from the center out in alternating directions to form an even circle. After every few strokes, lift the top surface of the bag from the dough and smooth it down again flip the bag over and lift the other surface and smooth it down. Continue this "roll, lift, flip" pattern until your circle of dough is about two cm wider than the rim of your 25 cm pie pan. Loosen both sides of the plastic bag from the dough and slide the pie pan upside-down into the bag and center it over the circle of dough. Turn the pan and bag over so the dough rests in the pan and slide the pan and dough from the bag. Gently press the pastry into the pan and trim the edges about one cm beyond the rim.

3. Sprinkle the almond-sugar mixture over the bottom of the shell. Keep the rest of the dough chilled until ready to use.

4. Transfer the apples to the pie shell, mounding them higher in the centre and leaving the sugary liquid behind in the bowl. Add the heavy cream to this liquid and beat until it is slightly thickened. Pour the mixture over the apples to coat them.

5. Put the remaining dough pancake inside the bag and roll it out using the same "roll, lift, flip" routine. When the top crust is rolled, cut the bag on 3 sides and peel off the top sheet of plastic. Use the remaining sheet of plastic to turn the top crust over the filling, center it, then peel off the plastic. Trim the top crust to once cm beyond the edge of the pie pan. Fold the top edge under the bottom crust and flute. Make several slashes in the top to allow steam to escape. Brush with the egg yolk beaten with the milk to form a glaze.

6. Bake for 10 minutes. Lower the heat to 175°C, and bake for 50 more minutes or until the crust is golden. If the edge darkens too much during the baking, cover it with foil, leaving the center open, and continue baking. Cool and serve with ice cream, if desired. Makes 8 to 10 servings.

Enjoy your weekend!

FOR THE PERSON WHO HAS EVERYTHING...

“To speak and to speak well are two things. A fool may talk, but a wise man speaks.” - Ben Jonson

Seeing that Yahoo 360 is soon closing, and the bloggers here are looking for a new home, it is apt that I share with you an interesting snippet of news I read in the newspaper today. “Twitter” is the new rage, it seems, and is threatening “Facebook” in supremacy. This is no surprise as we live a society where communication seems to be in a process of ever-shrinking dimensions. The “140 character message limit” of Twitter constitutes a “tweet” and is perfectly suited to the SMS, telegraph-like brevity of the communication of the modern person. Our ancestors once communicated effectively with short grunts, so why not us? Let’s get back to our roots…

Twitter and Facebook, Yahoo 360 and Blogger, MySpace and Multiply, just to mention a few of these social networking sites, are big business. There is much money to be made wherever people congregate in large numbers and that goes for the virtual community, not only the real one. Hence the big competition in the popularity stakes and the extreme marketing associated with each of these platforms for ascendancy. Alas for some, popularity (ever fickle), has by-passed them and hence the decadence of Yahoo 360 that we have witnessed lately.

Seeing that Twitter is the new wunderkind on the block, is it a surprise that various para-service industries have sprung up to cater to the advertising needs of the twitterer market? Brisbane-based company uSocial has launched a service that allows twitterers to buy “packages of followers” if they can’t attract any of their own. For only $87 you can purchase 1,000 followers and for $3497 you can buy the maximum of 100,000 followers!

So how is that? You can buy yourself admirers! You can purchase your own fan club! So when you write: “I am now thinking of going out for a stroll because it’s a nice day here in Melbourne, and I feel like a leisurely walk.” (122 characters), your fan club can know about it and rejoice in your excellent thought so pithily communicated. The world must know of course about such important events in your life.

Humour aside, if a company buys 100,000 followers on Twitter and keeps bombarding them with advertising, it’s well worth the $3497 investment. Another uSocial service puts paying customers’ websites on the prestigious front pages of social networking sites such as Digg, Buzz and StumbleUpon. Another revolves around positions of prominence for your company in search engine results. What did I tell you before? It’s big business!

Meanwhile, keep on blogging!

confabulate |kənˈfabyəˌlāt| verb [ intrans. ]
1 [formal] Engage in conversation; talk : She could be heard on the telephone confabulating with someone.
2 [Psychiatry] Fabricate imaginary experiences as compensation for loss of memory.
DERIVATIVES
confabulation |-ˌfabyəˈlā sh ən| noun
confabulatory |-ləˌtôrē| adjective
ORIGIN early 17th century: From Latin confabulat- ‘chatted together,’ from the verb confabulari, from con- ‘together’ + fabulari (from fabula ‘fable’ ).

Jacqui BB is hosting Word Thursday

FALSE PRETENCES

“The greater absurdities are, the more strongly they evince the falsity of that supposition from whence they flow.” – Francis Atterbury

How easy it is to delude ourselves. We are eager to substantiate our dreams, see our hopes bear fruit, yearn to realise our desires. How often we can succumb to the sweet insistence of a spurious but so attractive premise! We are our own accomplice in the duplicity of the feelings that we manufacture to make our fantasy an actuality. Alas, the virtual reality that we concoct is so flimsy that it seldom fails to survive the probity of logic and fails the test of time…

False Pretences

Drowning in your sea of insinuations
Clutching the bright straws of your gaze
(How duplicitous those eyes!)
I may as well try to capture
A sunbeam in an attempt to save me
From an inevitable death.

I lie, you lie, we lie
And in the midst of all of our lies
There is a truth, so richly dressed;
She looks at us, beaming innocently
Because we cannot tell her apart
From our naked lies.

Too late to turn back now,
We’ve missed our chance
We’ve bypassed the turn-off
Of that saving grace of the detour…
On false pretences, we career on,
And like lemmings, we shall plummet to our death.

This is a poem that I wrote several years ago when sweet lies were so easy to consume. Lies always hide poison beneath their pastel-coloured sugary coating…

Jacqui BB hosts Poetry Wednesday

HALF YEAR GONE BY...

“Without labor nothing prospers.” - Sophocles

The sunflower, Helianthus annuus, is today’s birthday flower. The generic name means sunflower in Greek and it has been a symbol of the sun in many cultures including the Incas (the plant is native to the Americas). It symbolises adoration, affection, infatuation, glory, false riches, constancy and gratitude. In the language of flowers it means: “You are splendid”.

The birthday of:
John Gay, poet and playwright (1685);
Baron von Mueller, Melbourne Botanic Gardens founder (1825);
Stanley Spencer, artist (1891);
Harold (Joseph) Laski, politician (1893);
Walter Ulbricht, statesman (1893);
Czeslaw Milosz, Nobel laureate (1980) author (1911);
Ruskin Spear, artist (1911);
Lena Horne, singer (1917);
Buddy (Bernard) Rich, drummer (1917);
Susan Hayward (Edythe Marrener), actress (1918);
Tony Hatch, pianist (1939);
Mike Tyson, pugilist (1966).

At around about this time, the people of Appleton in England ceremoniously “Bawm the Thorn”, that is they decorate an ancient hawthorn tree growing in the middle of town. A procession marches to the tree and everyone bedecks its branches with ribbons, flags, banners and flowers. The children then proceed to dance around it. It is thought this ceremony is a remnant of the pagan tree-worship rituals.