Monday, February 25, 2013

Oscars Recap

Not gonna lie...despite the critics I thought Seth MacFarlane did great. He kept it tamer than everyone expected, and I personally thought "We Saw Your Boobs" was hilarious. If actress were offended by being exploited, perhaps they should remind themselves that they were in fact the person who exploited themselves in the first place. I mean really, it was Seth MacFarlane! Compared to his usual MO, the guy on there stage up might as well have been Mister Rogers. The joke about the Lincoln assassination, followed by his very tounge in cheek question, "too soon?" Hilarious!

I will say, MacFarlane looked very handsome last night...i think I just might have a wee crush. I'll add him to the list somewhere next to Seth Rogen, Jason Segel, and that guy from Bridesmaids. I LOVE those types. Seth MacFarlane has a great singing voice too! I just didn't understand Channing and Charlieze dancing to They Way You Look Tonight, but it was well delivered, nevertheless.

Anyway, the dude didn't even sell out by referenceing Family Guy or anything. The only appearence of MacFarlane offspring seemed to be the new, adorable,potty-mouthed title character from the Oscar host's movie Ted.

I was so excited for Anne Hathaway. Usually I can take or leave her, but her performance in Les Mis left nothing to be desired. Her comment about the plight of Fontine and its still somehow current perspective made me teary. She did very well!

I'm also so glad Brave won best animated feature! I loved the when the filmmaker giving the speech pointed out her teenage daughter, who was the inspiration for Merida. She was adorable. I hope Disney
Keeps producing more culturally responsible movies like Brave and 2009's Princess and the Frog. I was so happy to see my Scottish roots represented in film for young people! Feisty Merida is an excellent role model, and she and the world  filmakers created around her were worthy of an Oscar for sure.

Speaking of little archers, Jennifer Lawerence was just wonderful last night. Even  though she's literary The Face of what's currently the most popular YA franchise in the world, (you know the one) her Oscar nominated performance in Winter's Bone and (now Oscar winning) performance in Silver Linings Playbook had the Hollywood greats asking, "Katniss who?"

And the 22 year old has the best attitude. While she lacks the icy, well-rehearsed behavior of peers such as Hathaway, she has an air of intelligence and composure that's lost on ladies like Kristen Stewart and Miley Cyrus. While she is definitely intelligent, Lawerence, is also often just plain goofy, so she just comes across as nothing but real.

Speaking of, I love her stance on body image and weight loss in Hollywood and I pray she sticks to it.  Lawrence, though outspoken on the issue, is in no way soft or large, but her small, firm frame speaks to what should really be respected as healthy and appealing in Hollywood. Sturdy though she is, her nervousness when introducing the evening's most important performer and subsequent falling up the stairs during her way up to receive rhe award proved that she is nothing but endearingly human. And that is nothing short of wonderful.

(Not gonna lie here either - I wasn't exactly rooting for that cocky 9 year old, who seemed to think she had it on the bag.) Cockiness won't get you far with this lady, sweetie!

Speaking of which, I loved Ben Affleck's speech last night. Though the poor guy was rushed beyond reason, I thought he did a wonderful and heartfelt job, and I loved his comments to wife Jennifer (Garner). That cocky guy who co-wrote and starred in Good Will Hunting has come.a long way.

Can't end this without speaking to the musical performances. They were all just as stellar on stage as edited and presented on screen, and I welled up again over Les Mis. Adele did a bang up job and it's great to see the new mom 3-0 for the major awards for Skyfall, and again, MacFarlane proves his musicality extends far beyond toilet humor and somehow, inexplicably into the realm of Fred Astaire. Surprining, stellar, wow! Stella

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

On Who You Miss The Most


You Were You Are Elegy

Mary Jo Bang

Fragile like a child is fragile.
Destined not to be forever.
Destined to become other
To mother. Here I am
Sitting on a chair, thinking
About you. Thinking
About how it was
To talk to you.
How sometimes it was wonderful
And sometimes it was awful.
How drugs when drugs were
Undid the good almost entirely
But not entirely
Because good could always be seen
Glimmering like lame glimmers
In the window of a shop
Called Beautiful
Things Never Last Forever.
I loved you. I love you. You were.
And you are. Life is experience.
It's all so simple. Experience is
The chair we sit on.
The sitting. The thinking
Of you where you are a blank
To be filled
In by missing. I loved you.
I love you like I love
All beautiful things.
True beauty is truly seldom.
You were. You are
In May. May now is looking onto
The June that is coming up.
This is how I measure
The year. Everything Was My Fault
Has been the theme of the song
I've been singing,
Even when you've told me to quiet.
I haven't been quiet.
I've been crying. I think you
Have forgiven me. You keep
Putting your hand on my shoulder
When I'm crying.
Thank you for that. And
For the ineffable sense
Of continuance. You were. You are
The brightest thing in the shop window
And the most beautiful seldom I ever saw.
Poetry (June 2007).


Tuesday, February 19, 2013

On Elemental Sentiments

Sand Flesh and Sky

Clarence Major

Our ropes are the roots

of our life. We fish

low in the earth,

the river beneath runs through our veins,

blue and cold in a riverbed.

When the sun comes up,

the moon moves slowly to the left.

I tie the logs and limbs together,

holding them in place.

The ocean beats them

smooth like rock.

Here my sense of time is flat.

I find in a strip of damp sand

footprints and marks of hands,

and torn pieces of flesh.

Night is a beast.

The tide moves, gushing

back and forth.

Sunlight touches our faces,

turning us, turning us, turning us

in our morning sleep.


-from Configurations:
 New & Selected Poems, 1958-1998

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Pack your Bags, Ladies! It's Saturday(ish)!

Saturday by
 Kate Spade Saturday

Poetry Points

I love this new collection by Kate Spade - and there's bag's here for all my girls! Whether your style is Bohemian (Mamma), Polished (Sarah),  Artsy (Hannah), Ladylike (Jenna) or Eclectic (Me) - there is something in this collection that fits your aesthetic...
Very Fashion-Poetic.
My girl Kate loses a point on the price - most of us can't afford $160 for a tiny bag - but she gains tons of credit for being both On-trend and innovative - and for reaching a wide range of styles.
I think it's safe to say that Ms. Spade, while young at heart, has become quite the fashion grown up!
And Here's My Favorite:

It's not just bags we're talking about either - here are some more Fab products from Kate Spade's Saturday Collection:


Thursday, February 14, 2013

On The Journey of a Soul

What I find magical about this piece is the way it relies on the reader to create the speaker's perspective. I believe that the poet has executed this beautifully by using descriptive imagery while remaining vague, but emotional about the speaker's background.
It's a powerful and thought-provoking juxtaposition.


Richie Hofmann
I have come again to the perfumed city.
Houses with tiered porches, some decorated with shells.
You know from the windows that the houses
are from a different time. I am not
to blame for what changes, though sometimes
I have trouble sleeping.
Between the carriage houses,
there are little gardens separated by gates.
Lately, I have been thinking about the gates.
The one ornamented with the brass lion, I remember
it was warm to the touch
even in what passes here for winter.
But last night, when I closed my eyes,
it was not the lion that I pictured first.
Source: Poetry (November 2012).
The experience the speaker had before the poem is unspecific, but not unimportant. 
It represents the kind of mystery we encounter not only in strangers, but also in loved ones who have returned home after long journeys.
Why is this particular setting special enough for the speaker to have remarked on it to begin with? And hey, where are they anyway? Where is this place?  Have they been there before? How long have they been gone? Where has the speaker been before this? Are they planning on staying or moving on?  Do you find the setting frightening, or hopeful? Is the speaker healing or self-destructing?
Do you think that the fact the speaker dreams about the gates has anything to do with their past and their future? What do those gates mean? Do they confine or protect? Do you think they see themselves as being inside or outside of the gates? Do you think this a more emotional or physical location?
 Do you think you see the reader's location (whether physical or emotional) as differently as they see it? Are you, or any of us, for that matter, really all that different from the speaker at all? Who is the speaker after all? After all the answers to these questions - could it really be possible that maybe the speaker is you?\
Richie Hofmann
Poet Richie Hofmann

-explore more poetry by Hoffmann

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Trust This Winter Love Song

I've always loved this song - it sort of reminds me of being in love with somebody who's not really there - like living in a fantsay world you can't really get out of - like living in a snowglobe

What's Simple Is True


Jewel Kilcher
Turn to me with frozen lips
Your hands are icy cold
Your eyes burn bright against the frost-bit sky
You never seemed more lovely than you do right tonight
Pale on the horizon
Like leaves frozen in the snow
Our two shadows merge inseparably
Will time stand still if it's pierced with cold
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you
there's a warmth in my heart
It haunts me when you're gone
Mend me to your side and never let go
Say 'Time knows nothing, we'll never grow cold'
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you
Twilight descends on our silhouette
How soon spring comes
How soon spring forgets
I wanna hold time, say it'll never begin
Old man winter be our friend
Old man winter be our friend
'Cause the more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
What's simple is true
I love, I love you
-from, Spirit

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The Places You've Been

I love how Matejka manages to make the term "I rocked it" sound poetic and beautiful. How brilliant do you have to be to manage that?

Map to the Stars

Adrian Matejka
A Schwinn-ride away: Eagledale Plaza. Shopping strip of busted
walkways, crooked parking spaces nicked like the lines
on the sides of somebody’s mom-barbered head. Anchored
by the Piccadilly disco, where a shootout was guaranteed every
weekend, those gun claps: coughing stars shot from sideways
guns shiny enough to light the way for anyone willing to keep
a head up long enough to see. Not me. I bought the Star Map
Shirt for 15¢ at the Value Village next to the Piccadilly during
the daytime. The shirt was polyester with flyaway collars,
outlined in the forgotten astronomies of disco. The shirt’s
washed-out points of light: arranged in horse & hero shapes
& I rocked it in places neither horse nor hero hung out.
Polyester is made from polyethylene & catches fire easily
like wings near a thrift store sun. Polyethylene, used in shampoo
bottles, gun cases, & those grocery sacks skidding like upended
stars across the parking lot. There are more kinds of stars
in this universe than salt granules on drive-thru fries. Too many
stars, lessening & swelling with each pedal pump away from
the Value Village as the electric billboard above flashes first
one dui attorney, then another who speaks Spanish so the sky
above is constantly chattering, like the biggest disco ball ever
The Devil's Garden
-more from Adrian Matejka

On Amen (or something like it)

(The Last Word in 55 Novels):
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
AitchesRoad to Wigan Pier
BloomWatership Down
BombsHomage to Catalonia
Both End of the Affair
CombustionThe Loved One
DaysAlice's Adventures in Wonderland
DistanceLord of the Flies
EarthOne Hundred Years of Solitude
Earth Wuthering Heights
EndedCrime and Punishment
ExercationThe Stranger
FeetGreat Wall of China
GunJohnny Got His Gun
GuysOf Mice and Men
Ha!The Tin Drum
HappyA Moveable Feast
HateThe Stranger
HimContinental Op
HonorMadame Bovary
HotelAge of Innosence
In Maltese Falcon
ItBrokeback Mountain
KnowA Tale of Two Cities
LifeA Good Man is Hard to Find
LivedMoll Flanders
MediterraneanA Room with a View
Moby DickOrphan
MorningTo Kill a Mockingbird
MultiplyGod Bless You, Mr. Rosewater
Past Great Gatsby
PlaceThe Sound and the Fury
PlayThe House at Pooh Corner
PlayedThe Recognitions
Poo-tee-weet?Slaughterhouse Five
RavineUnder the Volcano
RestoredClaudius the God
RoomBell Jar
SeenSpeak, Memory
ShiningOf Human Bondage
SmiledThe Good Earth
SoThe Sun Also Rises
ThemThe Long Goodbye
ThemCharlotte's Web
Cat's Cradle
ThisLittle Women
Time One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
WayParadise Lost
Animal Farm
Breakfast of Champions*

Saturday, February 2, 2013

On a Whisper

I love this prose piece from gentleman poet Zachary Schomburg  ...

The Animal Spell

Zachary Schomburg
Someone once told me that animals are people under spells, and if you fall in love with them the spell will be lifted. I recently fell in love with a black trumpeter swan. I watched her ruffle her neck feathers for hours, watched her peck bugs from her breast. I was sure she would make a beautiful bride, but she was always a black trumpeter swan. I once brushed a horse's hair for 3 straight years until it crumpled into death. The truth is there is no such thing as spells. The world is always as it is, and always as it seems. And love is just our own kind voice that we whisper into our own blood.
-Explore more from Zachary Schomburg

Friday, February 1, 2013

The Words You Were Looking For


alone, beautiful, bed, color, dark, depression

Sara Miller

Last night in bed
I mouthed a prayer
of my own composition.

It sounded offhand, it was carelessly
addressed, it twisted my meaning
entirely, it left an ache,
I didn’t know what I was doing.

So I took down my yellowed copy
of French With Pictures
by the late literary critic I.A. Richards
and I put my petition
into soft French words.

I.A. Richards believed that irony
was the language of redemption.
He wrote and lectured famously on this,
but his masterpiece was French With Pictures.
“The chapeau is on the table.”
“The man with the beard stands before the window.”
“She comes from a village by the sea.”

There is no improving the old traditions.
They are already mortal, partial, and wrong.
The woman at the table by the window
puts her head into her hands.
“Into your hands,” she said.

Sara  Miller
-Explore More from Sara Miller
-from: Poetry (January 2013).

On a String...

Found this last night!! I made it about a year ago using a combination of metals. I also used a mix of natural beads with rhinestones, I selected several inexpensive charms from my collection and attached them to a toggle clasp with a wide opening. I think I'm going to try some more like this soon!