Excuse me, Good Sir,
But you seem to have the wrong lips on. You've got your serious, sad poet ones stuck to your lovely face.
Call me crazy, but I think it's time you tuck those into your pocket, give them a little pat, and put on your kissing lips.
Delicious.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Hi Angela,
Every so often, perhaps like many bloggers, I spend a few hours “next blogging” along through the ether. I’m a visual artist who, in the past few years has become very involved with thinking about as many of the arts as I can uncomfortably ponder (one should not seek comfort when thinking about art). What I enjoy about following the spoor of so many blogging individuals from all over is the variety of their focus, interests, and abilities. If that sounds patronizing, that was not my intent, because I have discovered that it supplies me with a background for a blog that have I recently undertaken.
It’s called ArtQuest1.blogspot.com/ and in it, I am attempting to organize my thoughts and ideas as to how and where we all find our ability to tap into our creative impulses and needs. Since it is going on several thousands of words at this point, I’ll not try and summarize it, but invite you to stop by if you are interested.
No, my comment is not spam, nor is it a solicitation on my part to increase visits at my blog. It also has nothing to do with your current post, even though this is where I stuck it (nothing against Mr. Potato Head and the appropriateness of his present lip choice).
I bookmarked your site about a week ago, and have gone back a few time to read as I was impressed with the intense clarity and the personal and emotional content. I started from the recent and worked backward for a while (it’s funny how blogs have made that acceptable – hope it doesn’t catch on with novels), and then jumped to backwards to your first posts, a year ago.
I think your post of August 27, 2005 was one of the most touching, beautiful and eloquently written pieces I have seen since I started reading blogs! As I read on though that post and those that followed, I came to a realization,
You have a voice that is unlike any I have heard before. You speak of the deeply personal, and yet it is about me the reader, you speak of a life that should be bleak and filled with despair, and make me smile as I read at the promise and fulfillment you experience and share, and you speak of wrenching loneliness, insecurity and a poverty of material goods, and I find myself wishing I could be like you.
I am not a person who has ever looked towards God or religion for any of my answers, much less as a locus of my questions. Not as one who is anti-religious, but as one who finds it irrelevant. I have read of Aquinas, I have read of Mother Theresa, and of Martin Luther King, and other good people who were deeply moved by their faith. While I was glad for them at the strength they found there, no transference took place; it did not apply to me any more then discovering a favorite author liked licorice.
I guess, what I wanted to tell you, was, your writing transferred.
Thank you for posting. Bob
bob,
thank you so much for your encouraging words. i will be blushing for a month. it means a lot to me that someone unknown can read my writing and connect with what i am trying to say.
thanks for taking the time and breaking that barrier of the unknown stranger, to say so.
Post a Comment