tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35288931354758608352024-03-13T15:57:57.550-04:00Raisin Box TrumpetPhotography. Poetry. Art. InspirationBradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-12436770908012242432015-06-19T11:59:00.001-04:002015-06-19T12:08:07.485-04:00The Carterista<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirobZ4mqh_xxwm1JCljaQH-FmZVsKb5RS6MBMqPI4l8VVGsE8cfzaToxK5BvMM5lTFiX3Ce2Srgon4y0hNpQ1vDfWHiG_LkChVOUhnpjT4ACtIIRnzWv8WskAeV515pWVFXatNwJ1rmFTn/s1600/Pickpocket+Splash+miniature.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirobZ4mqh_xxwm1JCljaQH-FmZVsKb5RS6MBMqPI4l8VVGsE8cfzaToxK5BvMM5lTFiX3Ce2Srgon4y0hNpQ1vDfWHiG_LkChVOUhnpjT4ACtIIRnzWv8WskAeV515pWVFXatNwJ1rmFTn/s400/Pickpocket+Splash+miniature.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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There are pickpockets in Barcelona, I am told. But I am not worried. The "carteristas" are opportunists, and I am careful. My hand is in my pocket, and my belongings are secure.<br />
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On the streets, I am vigilant. My eyes sweep the shadows for suspicious characters. I'm not sure what a pickpocket looks like. I imagine them in caricature—Dickensian, with Romani roots—handsome, and dangerous, with black, curly hair, and feverish eyes. The kind who would steal your girl, then steal your car to take her on a date. That, is what I feared.<br />
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***</div>
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This is what I knew:<br />
<ul>
<li>The train was crowded.</li>
<li>The map obscured my view.</li>
<li>The young man with the map looked like an American college student.</li>
</ul>
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When he handed me my Moleskin travel journal, I knew it could not have leapt, unassisted, from the depths of my Velcroed cargo pants pocket to the floor of the speeding Metro. I KNEW he had stolen it, but I was overwhelmed with relief that this, the one thing I could never replace, my external memory, had been returned to my grateful hands and not discarded, as worthless—for surely it must have seemed so to him.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I felt for, and found my wallet, secreted away in a protected pocket, and looked the would-be thief in the eye. <i>Aye, caballero.</i> We are men of the world. We have met here on this battlefield, and this time I won. You fought well, and I do not begrudge you your living. Thank you, for returning to me, what is rightfully mine, that could be of no value to you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I emerged from the underground, jubilant, and pregnant with prose—storyteller, with a story to tell. It was a beautiful day—a great day to be alive. It was several blocks before I reached for my phone.</div>
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***</div>
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This is what I know now:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Pickpockets are clever.</li>
<li>They look like you and me.</li>
<li>They don't like notebooks.</li>
<li>One has a very nice phone. </li>
</ul>
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Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-77701778722523658042013-12-28T05:58:00.000-05:002013-12-28T05:59:32.237-05:00Happy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXFz1WDewYmfj1FB40wpdyqEaUnSGRny_49nYjOlji7lvfttjyw4YRPNkHTUd_sA-l01IC6tMkmZoX84-OgEWtKZLuFx_bNXlAvzn2lc0gYfnEF38VzcSMvfYCw9kcjGZMV9hjDsRjCf_/s1600/With+Darlyn+at+the+book+fair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXFz1WDewYmfj1FB40wpdyqEaUnSGRny_49nYjOlji7lvfttjyw4YRPNkHTUd_sA-l01IC6tMkmZoX84-OgEWtKZLuFx_bNXlAvzn2lc0gYfnEF38VzcSMvfYCw9kcjGZMV9hjDsRjCf_/s400/With+Darlyn+at+the+book+fair.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I started this blog back in 2010 as a place to reflect on the good and the great, the silly and sublime moments that capture my imagination. It began during a season in my life where I had a lot of time on my hands and posting was a form of daily affirmation. The ensuing years have been full and abundant with blessings. Facebook has intervened. Every now and then, however, I come across a picture, or get into a reflective mood consistent with the spirit of Raisin Box Trumpet. This picture just had to be here. Which brings me to my favorite part of each post.<br />
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The Good Stuff<br />
<br />
Book signings<br />
Revelation<br />
Poetry readings<br />
Christmas lights<br />
Adrenaline<br />
Hot tubs<br />
Milk Stout<br />
Herons<br />
Demolition derbies<br />
Friendship<br />
Family<br />
Forgiveness<br />
Peace<br />
Understanding<br />
<br />Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-59295543072603885762012-02-23T15:18:00.000-05:002012-02-23T15:18:34.717-05:00Train<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9WclU78lRtC_99yznES3wHxz0FVOvgxtXSYMORB3-93Jh1r6Yeo7do2frKy9ho08r6IZd2Vyyz0i4Y70UrcyDZS-AgjBk1i5prJJpKL68z80qzvGRV0EJ-D8Xm-rcZm5iJy9hSpoN8kAH/s1600/DSC_0237_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9WclU78lRtC_99yznES3wHxz0FVOvgxtXSYMORB3-93Jh1r6Yeo7do2frKy9ho08r6IZd2Vyyz0i4Y70UrcyDZS-AgjBk1i5prJJpKL68z80qzvGRV0EJ-D8Xm-rcZm5iJy9hSpoN8kAH/s400/DSC_0237_2.JPG" width="500" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A train leaves Chicago traveling south at 90 miles and hour</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Arrives in Orlando at half-past eight</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Catching me late for work</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hating the genius who planned this parade</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I roll down my window and</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Listen</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To the clack, clack, clack, clack</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Syncopated rhythm of the </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rails,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Clack, clack, clack</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Runnin and a hummin and a</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Box cars</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> BOOM</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Box cars rollin</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Clang, clang, clang, clang</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One after the other . . . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You do the math</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Half an hour late to start</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now I'm stuck here waiting on this train</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That seems to be slow-ing down as. I. speak.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dragging time . . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Drag- ing time . . . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dragging time along with it </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like that Salvadore Dali painting</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Or a sticky pink strand</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stretched</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">From the hot black top</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To the heel of my left high top </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Slowing me down</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just enough to throw my whole day out of</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">al-</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> ign-</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">ment.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I sit. Here. Waiting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And watch</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The fwip, fwip, fwip, fwip</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Poetry in motion of the</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cars,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fwip, fwip, fwip</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Visceral emotion of the </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tag art</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Gang</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">BANG</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">art flowing</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bang, bang, bang, bang</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One after the other . . . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Who teaches this . . . ?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Baggy pants Picassos</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">With their aerosol brushes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Blowin art ten feet high</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On the side of a freight</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Big balloon letters</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And a fairly detailed Oscar the Grouch</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Because nothing says "Bad to the bone"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like a Sesame Street character</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then I think . . . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What if that guy, Cristo,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">'Stead of spending all that money building bras for volcanoes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Or Wyland!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Were to paint up a train</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So that no matter how the cars were switched up</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You'd see fish . . . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Or whales swimming</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But then that last car passes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The gate swings up </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm on my way</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And I think </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Nah</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then you'd just have people</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Blowing off work altogether</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And driving around all day</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hoping</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To get stuck at a crossing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><u>The Good Stuff:</u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pelicans - always pelicans</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Red shouldered hawk, flying, with 4-foot red rat snake</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fresh flowers</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Valentines</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Couples massage</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A brand-new byline</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yielding for pedestrians</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Songify</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A President who sings on key</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dove chocolate</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and blogging ... occasionally</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-51270165054263807202011-02-20T16:28:00.001-05:002011-02-27T11:50:14.106-05:00Some very good people, a very good place, and a good time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHJzS22t2VBRHFV8yzA1PFqr9lFGBV0zpr-JYbn96xSf22vjQosep-dIteHp3hVYuppMfxyirEXrRGvrEVOE8QRn-ri8Xwk1U1WHlhKCB2NuNkBlgtoa04-TaLG0wFXF-0wNiGqGW6fhRt/s1600/k-house+gang+02.19.2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHJzS22t2VBRHFV8yzA1PFqr9lFGBV0zpr-JYbn96xSf22vjQosep-dIteHp3hVYuppMfxyirEXrRGvrEVOE8QRn-ri8Xwk1U1WHlhKCB2NuNkBlgtoa04-TaLG0wFXF-0wNiGqGW6fhRt/s640/k-house+gang+02.19.2011.jpg" width="530" /></a></div><br />
I've been away for awhile. But, I assure you, it has been for the best of reasons. My business has exploded and I've been working like a fool from dawn to dusk. I didn't mean to leave you hanging. Lots to say, just not much time to say it.<br />
<br />
The picture above was from last night's reading at the Kerouac House in College Park. Finer company you couldn't hope to keep. Poets, writers, and benefactors, brought together to celebrate the life and legacy of Jack, to make sure it doesn't get lost in the muck of his sad final chapter, as a brilliant mind succumbed to the terrible disease of alcoholism.<br />
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The embedded audio below is a podcast of Out and About with Jeremy Seghers on WPRK-FM, a radio show from Valentine's Day weekend, where Darlyn and I read our poetry along with some favorites by Neruda and Michael Ondaatje. We come on at 35 minutes in if you want to queue it up directly. But if you do, you'll be missing Mean Mary, a wonderful singer/songwriter from Nashville, who performed with us live in the studio.<br />
<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><object align="middle" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" height="25" id="mp3playerlightsmallv3" width="210"></p><p><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /></p><p><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerlightsmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://outandabout.podbean.com/mf/play/y3wkja/11February2011.mp3&autoStart=no" /></p><p><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /></p><p><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerlightsmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://outandabout.podbean.com/mf/play/y3wkja/11February2011.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerlightsmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed></p><p><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></object><br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-19772884359249785482011-01-23T20:25:00.000-05:002011-01-23T20:25:02.330-05:00Paging Tavi ... Rikki Tikki Tavi, party of 10A picture may be worth a thousand words, but here are some words from today's newspaper, that paint quite a picture. I'm not going to explain this . . . I'm just going to put it out there and let y'all guess what the story may have been about . . . no fair Googling it. Here it is:<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">"I guess I need a snake lover; either that or someone with multiple mongooses."</span></strong><br />
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This line is good enough to stand without a separate list of The Good Stuff. Carry On.Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-59251118200884370692011-01-14T17:20:00.000-05:002011-01-14T17:20:20.431-05:00Hairy Potter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0DqANiTrp29EbeNuek8GwV-qWQAkpRPkL5-sCXCMKdfGk1Jn5XP-5HlIE7Rhuj3pKjTJgcNZ4QTYg8fGv8vwMSWPhKINX_eNPzHssj23Aircwqx3mBwePdIfdseVUpN9azuJzI2peGX4/s1600/licorice.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0DqANiTrp29EbeNuek8GwV-qWQAkpRPkL5-sCXCMKdfGk1Jn5XP-5HlIE7Rhuj3pKjTJgcNZ4QTYg8fGv8vwMSWPhKINX_eNPzHssj23Aircwqx3mBwePdIfdseVUpN9azuJzI2peGX4/s1600/licorice.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm kind of worried about my new "themed" barber. </div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-64099617698504709552011-01-11T20:07:00.001-05:002011-01-11T20:08:44.422-05:00Deere Darlyn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLRqB7FrHEGekwol-5cVOqpPtR25HYDuP17N16EqHPOKqGVs-PhgfvzSzI__ovtpl_noj2TEqfwg_tMfRs11YXhFG25EswB3o5U78Fy2TKPlqLUCP72K8pJHIEZDiZvDJJiSKjxLPpok9v/s1600/tractor+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLRqB7FrHEGekwol-5cVOqpPtR25HYDuP17N16EqHPOKqGVs-PhgfvzSzI__ovtpl_noj2TEqfwg_tMfRs11YXhFG25EswB3o5U78Fy2TKPlqLUCP72K8pJHIEZDiZvDJJiSKjxLPpok9v/s1600/tractor+girl.jpg" /></a></div>A couple of winters ago, I took Darlyn home to visit my people. Nebraska - land of big shoulders, and bigger tractors. My brother-in-law is a farmer in Western Nebraska - Willa Cather country. At some point, as we were all walking slow, burning off a big meal, he took us to the massive barn where he keeps his tractor collection. We're not talking Tonka trucks here folks. We're talking about the real deal -- John Deere green from door to door. Being a guy, it didn't take much for me to fall under the spell of the smell of motor oil and deisel fuel. I felt the rush of potential as Tom spun the big weighted flywheel and the old pre-ignition tractor sputtered to life with its syncopated hiccopy cadence.<br />
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The big surprise, for me, was Darlyn. I looked over to make sure she wasn't bored and saw a gleam in her eye. Her eyes danced across the ponderous farm machinery and she clapped her cashmere-gloved hands with the delight of a child on Christmas morning. She had her eye on one of the more recent additions, a big modern enclosed cab job And I knew that, given the chance, she'd be up in that cab, bouncing on that suspended seat, making vroom-vroom noises and singing the theme from Green Acres in a heartbeat.<br />
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I wasn't wrong. Vroom-vroom!<br />
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The good stuff:<br />
Living in Florida in January.<br />
Rowing reunions<br />
Building a business<br />
Building a s'more<br />
Fresh produce<br />
Vegetarian pizza<br />
Turning "to do" to "ta da!"<br />
The circus coming to town<br />
Cash CabBradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-28151758085017745122011-01-02T17:07:00.002-05:002011-01-03T06:35:30.814-05:00Happiness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Spent the last few days under the weather. Darlin' Darlyn nursed me back to health with hot ramen and tender loving care. One of the highlights of the past few fever-addled days, was sitting side-by-side on the loveseat in my library, playing guitar and singing folk songs - Darlyn's sweet melodic voice floating smooth and soothing over my own, tortured Tom Waits. I like the way this picture highlights the grooves in the well-travelled fretboard of my 1970s-vintage Yamaha G-65 classical guitar. Even the frets themselves look dished and worn from 40 years of therapeutic noodlings. We've traveled a long way together -- from This Land is Your Land and Kum Bi Yah to Blackbird and Classical Gas, through break ups and make ups and countless campfires. I have newer guitars - sleek electrics with equalizers and built-in tuners. But for good old-fashioned chicken soup comfort, it's hard to beat the sweet, mellow sound of my old friend. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Darlyn -- just because</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">chicken ramen</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lemon zinger tea - with Grand Marnier.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">humidifiers</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">hometown heroes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">antibiotics</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">seagulls - miles from shore</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">the day after the fever breaks</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">new sidewalks</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">acorns crunching underfoot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-59132843346180543102010-12-31T05:39:00.000-05:002010-12-31T05:39:18.862-05:00London, 2008: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-PVp7zDb5ql6YTh_O157wPf3GHtT0tK4nry0Ti4CtKCc1zmSbuNs7lp6urd9z6Dk1XEF1fvJHfOGBOH0bS-We62Wf_Jkr9jU9fh3rJPMxbRn8tA8DwfeuU5YMuscFRNY_uwh9Bg-9fa0/s1600/a+dark+night.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-PVp7zDb5ql6YTh_O157wPf3GHtT0tK4nry0Ti4CtKCc1zmSbuNs7lp6urd9z6Dk1XEF1fvJHfOGBOH0bS-We62Wf_Jkr9jU9fh3rJPMxbRn8tA8DwfeuU5YMuscFRNY_uwh9Bg-9fa0/s1600/a+dark+night.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When you pay good money to be scared, this is the kind of place you hope to find. Here we are, in a deserted alley, on our way home from drinking Absinthe at The Ten Bells -- last stop on our Jack the Ripper's London tour. It was a fascinating night of true crime hosted by Donald Rumbelow, a guy who had literally <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Jack-Ripper-Complete-Donald-Rumbelow/dp/0809244713/ref=cm_lmf_tit_2/177-3924299-8705920">written the book on the case</a>. Rumbelow -- one of the all-time great author names :) -- claims to have been the studio-hired resource who briefed Johnny Depp on the case prior to the filming of From Hell. We met in the furtive shadows across from The Tower of London, and trod the cobblestone streets of Old London -- one square mile bounded by Roman stone and conflicting suburban police jurisdictions. Rumbelow wove a captivating tale, then opened his attache to conduct a little book sales business. I got the last copy! There are lots of folks offering Jack the Ripper tours and they steal each other's business like Gypsy Cab drivers. We were fortunate to get Rumbelow, and we were his last tour before taking a several week break for back surgery.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Comfort food</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Apple cinnamon oatmeal</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">eucalyptus</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Niquel</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Antibiotics</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">glad tidings</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">great joy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">angels - of all stripes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">DIY web design </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-39003879961684114922010-12-22T08:39:00.002-05:002010-12-22T10:15:54.737-05:00Solstice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwBgCBazszdNgmdVXTVM1x4i8u6PldjMRiNXEm0xQK_qPnIOxEQSP3J2UXb3tw3suBCoY-Qu8y3mzGgk30xUdhfC2xqV7-_cFendUvB7bpkT8QTebi22ewFGcaZFI7nl1Zv20recAfBBT0/s1600/Solstice.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="357" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwBgCBazszdNgmdVXTVM1x4i8u6PldjMRiNXEm0xQK_qPnIOxEQSP3J2UXb3tw3suBCoY-Qu8y3mzGgk30xUdhfC2xqV7-_cFendUvB7bpkT8QTebi22ewFGcaZFI7nl1Zv20recAfBBT0/s640/Solstice.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It came upon a midnight clear . . . actually it arrived around 1:30 a.m. -- a full lunar eclipse on the winter solstice. Now I'm not up on my druid lore, but that's got to be some kind of triple-witching hour. Local pagans celebrated with drum circles. And I thought of a couple of summers ago, when Darlyn, Meschelle and I were at Stonehenge on the eve of the summer solstice.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Regardless of your creed, there is something powerful about a solstice, especially the winter solstice, the longest night of the year -- standing astride the midnight meridian, staring up into the honest eye of the moon, you feel closer to God, and somehow empowered to ask him anything. This time, I didn't. I just tilted my head back and watched as the lid of the earth's shadow, dropped like an eyelid, until all that was left was a white tip and the moon eye became a buckeye. And then even that was gone, and the moon slept. A silent night, indeed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I watched through the improbable December blossoms of my flowering peach tree, and whispered two words -- to God, and to Darlyn, whom I knew at that moment was at her home across town, bundled and sapping the heat from her cocoa, staring up at the same night sky, 25 miles away: "Thank you."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Peace to you all. </div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-27943444693687308122010-12-19T08:16:00.000-05:002010-12-19T08:16:32.386-05:00Pinocchio - the later years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSfxE7nG86fy9HbN-VfvXgbp5LEVoHS4VrdzNKpvctjQ-j25NdmxvFCopcmN2ooTv8HquinecZ5mNAKnwVuXMRfYyQjJlibfKvhC7bwvdHJt3j2uGSz_kF9dY87M5wnERwM88TntrojWs/s1600/144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="357" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSfxE7nG86fy9HbN-VfvXgbp5LEVoHS4VrdzNKpvctjQ-j25NdmxvFCopcmN2ooTv8HquinecZ5mNAKnwVuXMRfYyQjJlibfKvhC7bwvdHJt3j2uGSz_kF9dY87M5wnERwM88TntrojWs/s640/144.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like many child stars, Pinocchio had a hard time adjusting to reality. As it turned out, being "real" was not a marketable job skill - not like, say, being a stringless puppet. Desperate, he took matters into his own hands, undergoing experimental surgery in Mexico to return to his natural state. The surgery worked, but by then the world's attention had turned to automatons. His life in splinters, he took to freebasing varnish. An autopsy, performed by a noted tree surgeon, placed his age at 37, although his rings showed signs of termites and the advanced dry rot of a much older tree. He was made into a pine box and buried in a private ceremony attended by a cricket, and several smoking donkeys in topcoats and short-pants. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pot luck at the Kerouac House</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A good yarn</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A nice sweater made from good yarn</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Apples and peanut butter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Barnstorming hawks</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Woodpeckers at the window</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pajama weekends</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Community</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Linear parks</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Writer talk</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-15451195205459706742010-12-17T05:28:00.001-05:002010-12-17T05:30:52.094-05:00Pinocchio -- artist's model<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHsz-teeo8IQeiUqgFRpxrmvLV-mMj8lbNi8o5d2G-qNggYafHssLxOe2kWEiHtEfxdCgyA_H4K27-JB5-1XcBkEglwvvmRvCLLlZQ8xVAWMd8l1rntjnnrhZ6jp6dvEulchMFJyevxpL/s1600/pinocchio+at+the+cross.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="807" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHsz-teeo8IQeiUqgFRpxrmvLV-mMj8lbNi8o5d2G-qNggYafHssLxOe2kWEiHtEfxdCgyA_H4K27-JB5-1XcBkEglwvvmRvCLLlZQ8xVAWMd8l1rntjnnrhZ6jp6dvEulchMFJyevxpL/s640/pinocchio+at+the+cross.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Another great sculpture by Cheryl Bogdanowitsch</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A warm day in winter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rowers at dawn</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ferris wheels</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dancing shoes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Wind-up monkeys</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Puppet boxing</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Packages on the porch </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Crisp, shiny apples</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">chimney smoke</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-83547419067011868432010-12-16T02:29:00.000-05:002010-12-16T02:29:08.541-05:00Faces off<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXb6blGjKoubLNWY4kRcGahq6FC4QjgsJSNrYxqBkpHOA4RWETUHuanP2rjdXzixulymLnZ0aIHF3UfF1Pplgghyphenhypheny172fkrXUz9dymvv0xmQM3c_4C0u8Ke6weWU8KLuwldt9v7vRcyHKA/s1600/Face+off.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXb6blGjKoubLNWY4kRcGahq6FC4QjgsJSNrYxqBkpHOA4RWETUHuanP2rjdXzixulymLnZ0aIHF3UfF1Pplgghyphenhypheny172fkrXUz9dymvv0xmQM3c_4C0u8Ke6weWU8KLuwldt9v7vRcyHKA/s1600/Face+off.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This shot of fragments in Cheryl Bodganowitsch's woodpile would make a nice cover image for a poetry collection.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Blue moons</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Spaghetti and brocolli slaw</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">New office supplies (feels like new school supplies)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Poetry in motion</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Infinity - and beyond</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Questions without answers</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Three Musketeers </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Traffic circles</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Crop circles</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Turning in circles </div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-63957469864616654782010-12-14T06:41:00.000-05:002010-12-14T06:41:41.267-05:00Fellahin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlR6IyM9wuomLC2dlQ8A0-sCXy3l7r2bhzbXOUmLxVHQd44hFNoBn-dBZe-c-W1Sj4GLfyid3QhjLK7rKg-Lug4DV-L10o5MxfZxtmOTNu1MigC90AzTCCkaLAeCt5FwIqbdKkwLFqj6M/s1600/Fellahin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlR6IyM9wuomLC2dlQ8A0-sCXy3l7r2bhzbXOUmLxVHQd44hFNoBn-dBZe-c-W1Sj4GLfyid3QhjLK7rKg-Lug4DV-L10o5MxfZxtmOTNu1MigC90AzTCCkaLAeCt5FwIqbdKkwLFqj6M/s1600/Fellahin.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">More beautiful detail from the work of Cheryl Bogdanowitsch. This one reminded me of that famous <a href="http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2002/03/0311_020312_sharbat.html">National Geographic Cover</a>, the one of the Afghani girl with the searing green eyes. This particular photo shoot was so rich with these powerful images. I think I'll keep posting them for awhile. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The exhaustion of a day well-spent</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cold weather - nature's bug zapper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Woohoo! 30 degrees - no more lawn mowing this year</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Getting pulled over for a burned out headlight - on my way to an auto parts store (no ticket)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Silk Soy Nog. Not the product itself, I just like saying it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sidewalk chalk</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Vermillion</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Chartreuse</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cinnamon candles</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Spelunking for sweaters</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-69890693511085351832010-12-12T23:42:00.001-05:002010-12-13T04:51:24.996-05:00Blue Angel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxsM_QefQfy66s9F0lKsjQ0qPa1hrPP8Q9iSnMyrcvcLEa4gl9odEtcIQ4SMFCmom_6HbNeLF5dT_O1fgdMDzc2pVntyDmpMAAuWJ4T5Q7Fek70DK5Ta54zcl_EZRGQCvQfnmxlgesmX9_/s1600/wood+witsch+watercolor.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxsM_QefQfy66s9F0lKsjQ0qPa1hrPP8Q9iSnMyrcvcLEa4gl9odEtcIQ4SMFCmom_6HbNeLF5dT_O1fgdMDzc2pVntyDmpMAAuWJ4T5Q7Fek70DK5Ta54zcl_EZRGQCvQfnmxlgesmX9_/s1600/wood+witsch+watercolor.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I hope Cheryl Bogdanowitsch won't get mad. Her work is so inspiring, I played with it a little. Here's my collaborative interpretation of one of her pieces.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The good stuff:<br />
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Offsetting setbacks.<br />
New Hope For Kids Christma Light Ride organizers and marshals (y'all rock! Thanks!)<br />
Ray LaHood<br />
Rails To Trails Conservancy<br />
Living on the verge<br />
40 degrees and sunny - mmm, brisk<br />
Buffalo chicken quesadillas <br />
Christmas parties<br />
White elephant gift exchanges<br />
fondue fuBradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-41076597999896266312010-12-10T03:30:00.000-05:002010-12-10T03:30:04.988-05:00Collaboration<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYToZsYsk18AAiINxSW60eLQJF1NB7k2N5vD8ulCccI62L-HB77D0FjMvFqlW0l9ATOESrft5wGGIkEJyHVbXcjpQ1ucsg0KLgaK2F4s1F6ZpTEQpdY6HcZ4r-HpQ83Cre2yIV6-NSNGiN/s1600/The+collaboration.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="544" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYToZsYsk18AAiINxSW60eLQJF1NB7k2N5vD8ulCccI62L-HB77D0FjMvFqlW0l9ATOESrft5wGGIkEJyHVbXcjpQ1ucsg0KLgaK2F4s1F6ZpTEQpdY6HcZ4r-HpQ83Cre2yIV6-NSNGiN/s640/The+collaboration.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No one but the poet knows, from this beginning, where she goes. To take, and make, from this, a poem. From artist's head, to poet's koan. One to another, heart to heart, a transformation, art to art. And in between, the muses meet. Two strangers passing on a street. Each burned upon the other's eye. Cross-pollination, by-and-by.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Friends at the Enzian</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Snickerdoodles</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">saying "snickerdoodle"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">cheap sunglasses</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">margarita salt sombreros</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">moving bookcases</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">giant libraries</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">library giants</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">baby bats</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">local bands</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-32611309795350851312010-12-09T11:23:00.001-05:002010-12-09T11:24:41.642-05:00Wood-witsch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAF6pGQZVuV1aqsRUFXUYKfBSVvE7JqT3MjRaBH8S5w9JtUzhiXu2jn8LOtmtLntBSvbVjAJ6pmr3MkxbYf8DMuy5M6pXJUd_djZITTzsYxylaH-7fUCVQHrBwwUfLOb4XsldHGFd6tZmM/s1600/Cheryl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="840" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAF6pGQZVuV1aqsRUFXUYKfBSVvE7JqT3MjRaBH8S5w9JtUzhiXu2jn8LOtmtLntBSvbVjAJ6pmr3MkxbYf8DMuy5M6pXJUd_djZITTzsYxylaH-7fUCVQHrBwwUfLOb4XsldHGFd6tZmM/s640/Cheryl.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Darlyn had a surprise for me. "I want you to meet my artist," she said. "Bring your camera."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As one of the leading ladies in the Florida poetry scene, it is becoming increasingly common for Darlyn to be paired with an artist, or two, for collaborations guaranteed to amaze. We were on our way to the Orlando studio of <a href="http://www.floridaartistsregistry.com/cheryl_bogdanowitsch/page7.htm">Cheryl Bogdanowitsch</a>, a sculptor known for her fantastic wood sprites and spirits carved from gnarled and knotted limbs she strips of bark and stacks like so much, well, cordwood, around her studio on Lake Formosa - a stone's throw away from the community center where Gram Parsons played with his band "Legends," and where bands like The Allman Brothers, Tom Petty, and the Outlaws, hit the small stage before making it to the big one -- a youth club so hot that older teens would get fake IDs so they could appear "young" enough to get in. But that's a story for another day -- one already written by local pop historian and WESH TV reporter Bob Kealing, for Orla<em>ndo Magazine</em> back in 2007.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The poets and artists in these collaborations have a quaint possessive way of referring to each other as "my poet" and "my artist." Darlyn had been to the studio at the beginning of the process, and was going to pick up a sculpture inspired by her poetry. Under the rules of engagement, she would have to study the piece, as Bogdanowitsch had studied her work, and write an original poem, inspired by the reflection. That poem, in turn, will be given to a painter, who will create something original inspired by Darlyn's ekphrastic phrases.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But Darlyn had an ulterior motive for inviting me along last night. "This place reminds me of the inside of your head - at least the way you've described it to me." She was not wrong. Over the next few days I'll be presenting some of the photographs I took inside Bogdanowitsch's wonderful studio. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The REAL Orlando</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.arestaurantdirectory.com/mi/fl/orl/logans_bistro.html">Lobster bisque and bourbon pecan chocolate pie at Logan's Bistro</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.sip-orlando.com/">Almond brie quesadillas with mango chutney, served sushi-style, at Sip.</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Circus train - just passing through.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Creamy Jif, from a spoon!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Getting by with a little help from my friends</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.enzian.org/">Howl - tonight at the Enzian</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Living in a state where our politicians actually spend time, and taxpayer money, debating whether a long-dead rockstar, who is buried in Paris, did, or didn't expose his hoo-ha at a concert 40 years ago, and whether he should be pardoned - really. How's that budget coming?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-44547016225413793112010-12-08T06:09:00.000-05:002010-12-08T06:09:08.053-05:00Green and groovin'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSQ8Hh_TIW_L5_gKEny7_QY0T6rulSadRTcm16FmXniMlsA9-ct_h0uJ1roxr6XHURWyMb_HgxoQM9hFS3708bJMOHCMQFdHYtDhuyLvz3V0oHxEdEm9WFIcNOVE5Ddyn_g__UBgmgMEL/s1600/Peace+Frog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="601" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSQ8Hh_TIW_L5_gKEny7_QY0T6rulSadRTcm16FmXniMlsA9-ct_h0uJ1roxr6XHURWyMb_HgxoQM9hFS3708bJMOHCMQFdHYtDhuyLvz3V0oHxEdEm9WFIcNOVE5Ddyn_g__UBgmgMEL/s640/Peace+Frog.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Boy have I been a bad little blogger. Went and filled up my dance card with paying gigs and now I've gone and missed a couple of days. To summarize: Sky, flower, frog, freak, cemetery. Ooh, aah, watercolor. In my defense, I have been busy. Look for a couple of stories in the January issue of <em>Orlando Magazine</em>. Just finished a cover for the International Accounts Payable Professionals and a white paper on Regional Water Strategy. Hit send on the water strategy white paper today. You know there's a trick to writing a water paper, right? Well, the trick is, it can't be dry. Badumpum! Ching! Thank you. I'll be here all week. Now see - it's that attitude right there that makes me think about skipping a day. But I'm bigger than that. I'll just sit here across from the Buddha Frog, and look for inner peace.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Japanese beer in American aluminum, brewed in Los Angeles</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Spaghetti - with whole mushrooms and fresh basil. No spaghetti.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Clearance, Clarence</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Roger, Roger</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Leslie Nielsen - RIP</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mr. Natural</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Kilroy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Banksy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Obey-Giant</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Public graffiti walls</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-65954558885292079582010-12-05T12:01:00.000-05:002010-12-05T12:01:46.233-05:00Scribbler's Corner<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3yhyphenhyphent5uepNPmhyphenhyphenR2zrdw18gHLhjiMwP3Yj5WdjGW6mSFE031bkgrwuM3tfrIw_EAF9J8-5Ob7u5jmsYD4_OLANCi2jXjvgwrICae0YzLl7zpq9ck7qOIiPGdEJvHpbANlK1_5jcdyr_H/s1600/scribbler%2527s+corner.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3yhyphenhyphent5uepNPmhyphenhyphenR2zrdw18gHLhjiMwP3Yj5WdjGW6mSFE031bkgrwuM3tfrIw_EAF9J8-5Ob7u5jmsYD4_OLANCi2jXjvgwrICae0YzLl7zpq9ck7qOIiPGdEJvHpbANlK1_5jcdyr_H/s1600/scribbler%2527s+corner.JPG" /></a></div>Darlyn at work is a beautiful thing. ... Darlyn <strike>at work</strike> is <strike>a</strike> beautiful<strike> thing</strike>. I had the opportunity to see Darlyn in full-on frenetic work mode this weekend. She has agreed to do some part-time bookkeeping for me and was helping me get my office in order. Sixteen hours later, I had to unplug the computer to get her to stop. That's just the way she is. Whether she is writing, or working (for free) on behalf of the Central Florida writing community, she gives all she's got. I took this picture in October, at the AM 810 studio, where she was broadcasting her Scribbler's Corner radio show. (Second Saturday of every month at Noon(ish) during the second half of Yo Soy Latino - yes it's in English). Typical Darlyn -- edge of her chair, coiled and ready. She looks as if she's ready to spring into action. And, speaking of Scribbler's Corner . . . Next Saturday (Dec. 11) Darlyn will be interviewing me, and my colleague Diane Sears, owner of DiVerse Media, on how getting laid-off can be a blessing, and how you can earn six figures freelancing. <br />
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The Good Stuff:<br />
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Bluejay at my window<br />
Warm, fuzzy socks<br />
Hot ginger tea<br />
<a href="http://www.pompomsteahouse.com/">Pom Pom's Teahouse and Sandwicheria</a><br />
Chocolate Guiness cupcakes<br />
Snowy nights and Christmas lights. Tinsel afternoons.<br />
First Friday arts strolls<br />
<a href="http://orlandoshakes.org/">Orlando Shakespeare Theater</a><br />
<a href="http://www.innocenceproject.org/">The Innocence Project</a><br />
<a href="http://darlynfinch.com/">Scribbles</a>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-6503177645734750682010-12-03T07:06:00.000-05:002010-12-03T07:06:14.749-05:00Bric-a-brat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTodiQSZoSeBRqLNvwTPGM0Vv6AklCpTxuZQwFVJ7r0BebJe_1RlrFo-Lpqo5NuhZts21HGgivK6styYIt0MkEOONaRuyraMXuTEave7j4IUOwC6tjqVQPj6JB08L7loam6He4W0yQIFee/s1600/bric+a+brat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTodiQSZoSeBRqLNvwTPGM0Vv6AklCpTxuZQwFVJ7r0BebJe_1RlrFo-Lpqo5NuhZts21HGgivK6styYIt0MkEOONaRuyraMXuTEave7j4IUOwC6tjqVQPj6JB08L7loam6He4W0yQIFee/s1600/bric+a+brat.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, I swan. It's a Southern expression -- because it's not polite to "swear." I'm sure there's a great legend depicted by this figure, but it's not coming to mind. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Snow" falling softly on Market Street at Celebration</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Florida winter - both days</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fireplaces - just because</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rock Band Freebird - family style!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Airing out the sweaters</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The first seasonal whiff of a heater</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Outdoor cafes with propane heaters</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cold, clear nights - so many stars!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Christmas lights</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Holiday decorations</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-24115942571971161092010-12-02T02:33:00.002-05:002010-12-02T10:39:06.516-05:00I am the wall-rus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgqcsyV0NyFspLJeZmK99GyWTtuiidqnjPnax4_CNU5WGD9Yw3bS1Yh98WgFaqEwLd0RoMRsL03jzvO3nO3K5c5Rf418IZtQbdoug4yJjDeqsiEPKSS0QQK89PAW0ESrgQ_G7Zfj01sqC/s1600/um+yeah+i+want+one+of+those+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="679" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgqcsyV0NyFspLJeZmK99GyWTtuiidqnjPnax4_CNU5WGD9Yw3bS1Yh98WgFaqEwLd0RoMRsL03jzvO3nO3K5c5Rf418IZtQbdoug4yJjDeqsiEPKSS0QQK89PAW0ESrgQ_G7Zfj01sqC/s640/um+yeah+i+want+one+of+those+2.jpg" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This particular gargoyle from the Parc de la Ciutadella in Barcelona, is probably not what John Lennon had in mind when he sang "I am the walrus." -- Although, judging from the lyrics, I'm not sure he was thinking much of anything at the time. Still, it never hurts to Imagine. As the media machine cranks up to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Lennon's assasination next week, I wanted to post this as an off-the-wall tribute of my own.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Beatles catalog is now available on iTunes!!! Finally!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Strawberry fields</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For the Benefit of Mr. Kite</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Norwegian Wood</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Blackbird</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yesterday</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Maxwell's Silver Hammer</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A Day in the Life</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-34293477828044836572010-12-01T06:00:00.004-05:002010-12-01T06:40:41.750-05:00Dog House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWacYPg01O7Gt1nXIshFVe-1yO9gYMnMtVXgJHm-NsYYC_HQFja53y7rIPPEHGypTaoi1-Lc9SvbMfj9v_-LcrGD_faK857mTHuSwQpyQB-AmijFDIA071WmPHfAqnWAMwjnwI17_R-nw_/s1600/Dog+house.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWacYPg01O7Gt1nXIshFVe-1yO9gYMnMtVXgJHm-NsYYC_HQFja53y7rIPPEHGypTaoi1-Lc9SvbMfj9v_-LcrGD_faK857mTHuSwQpyQB-AmijFDIA071WmPHfAqnWAMwjnwI17_R-nw_/s640/Dog+house.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A busy, but good, day yesterday. Had to escape to my watercolor happy place. This Key West cottage is, well, soooo Key West.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pastel paint: Check.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Gingerbread: Check.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dogs on roof: Check.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mermaid figurehead on the attic vent: Check.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Homeowners association says: "two snaps up."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Big lazy dogs</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Blue lazy days</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cocktails served in a hollowed out pineapple</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The tractor beams of Christmas</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Snow (on tv)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sun (on my face)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Formal flip flops</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Moving vans in the neighborhood - moving in</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Wayward pelicans</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The smell of fresh bread. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-75791474184574441512010-11-30T06:00:00.002-05:002010-11-30T06:26:50.281-05:00Here comes the sun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDerSBwM_i4H9Ymk4bOED2yf7Pz4eH51xmRtLFWlbVO-6uLRh_3bef8N4kuY0FwYYzxfiaqujb-K5UErNJia4TbMz7ZBen6mQGVFCoKomDdRuq6_vf-U8gTO_7WfnbQLGXKQM8u4lftXQR/s1600/here+comes+the+sun.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDerSBwM_i4H9Ymk4bOED2yf7Pz4eH51xmRtLFWlbVO-6uLRh_3bef8N4kuY0FwYYzxfiaqujb-K5UErNJia4TbMz7ZBen6mQGVFCoKomDdRuq6_vf-U8gTO_7WfnbQLGXKQM8u4lftXQR/s1600/here+comes+the+sun.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Big, bright and happy - what's not to like. And I say . . . It's all right . . . which reminds me of a scene I witnessed at a redlight, taking my daughter to school the other day.<br />
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Sirocco<br />
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She enters as motion<br />
At the corner of my eye<br />
Left to right<br />
In a solar arc<br />
All elbows, knees, and jiggling excess<br />
Bold as brass<br />
Dark as bronze<br />
Big as a Sousaphone<br />
<br />
She takes to the streeet<br />
As if it were a stage<br />
In her own private parade<br />
Dancing to beat the band<br />
With a hyperbole of gesture<br />
No doubt scripted for aerobic effect<br />
<br />
She takes her time<br />
Taking in the moment<br />
When she reaches the refuge of the far corner<br />
A car honks<br />
And it looks, for a moment<br />
As if she might return for an encore<br />
But she continues on her way<br />
After a simple jig<br />
Blowing west<br />
In a cloud of construction dust<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The good stuff:<br />
<br />
Takin' care of business<br />
The light at the end of the tunnel<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQSNhk5ICTI&feature=related">Double rainbow</a><br />
Big hairy audacious dreams<br />
Good old-fashioned elbow grease<br />
Comic books<br />
Sultry looks<br />
Yogurt-covered pretzels<br />
gingerbread<br />
volunteersBradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-23401913269520388552010-11-29T07:36:00.000-05:002010-11-29T07:36:57.919-05:00Alleluiah!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKz4_q0yLUpbGdFbRdCp6NyixOQYQWN1AMW35PmM41tl3bPPL4YLb9eb0JpUaIpUVUmj6VT46sHfpDqyoad_HwLgw2jklQIf7Eb_7A0-6WsT_tA-iiLXw_GUKGr8lhOZc8bulQrmTMSDtb/s1600/water+color+cross.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKz4_q0yLUpbGdFbRdCp6NyixOQYQWN1AMW35PmM41tl3bPPL4YLb9eb0JpUaIpUVUmj6VT46sHfpDqyoad_HwLgw2jklQIf7Eb_7A0-6WsT_tA-iiLXw_GUKGr8lhOZc8bulQrmTMSDtb/s1600/water+color+cross.JPG" /></a></div><br />
There's a big old cross around the corner from my house that towers high over the landscape, poking up into the rarefied air reserved for skyscrapers, cell towers, water towers, and Mormon temples. Early odds had it that this monument was, in fact, a cell tower. A couple of other churches in town had already monetized their monuments, and given the prime location next to the cross-town expressway, it seemed a logical step. Except this cross was no golden idol. Central Florida Baptist Church built it as a beacon of faith -- and a nifty navigational landmark. "Look to the cross," and turn right. <br />
<br />
At first I wasn't sure what to think about having my neighborhood high ground, near Gotha, turned into a gol-darned Golgotha, until I saw the cross backlit one stormy evening at sunset. I keep meaning to get back and stake out a spot the next time the light is right. But in the meantime, this will have to suffice. I shot this back in August, but have been holding onto it for the right moment. After Darlyn and I went to hear the wonderful free performance of Handel's Messiah last night at The Bob Carr, the time seemed right. <br />
<br />
The Good Stuff:<br />
<br />
Sacred Music<br />
Renaissance Art<br />
Cinnamon pecans<br />
Freshly washed cars<br />
A week full of possibilities<br />
Holiday spirit<br />
Morning rain<br />
Sunny and 70 degrees<br />
Hot apple cider<br />
Crawfish etouffeeBradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3528893135475860835.post-3322157819125658342010-11-28T07:38:00.001-05:002010-11-28T08:05:17.452-05:00Azaleas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsNYx5TBzpHABO08BkZaMqeNPEDedIRwqxBXpPEH4B-eHiqAqDCCtJQiTviKQpRtsslcNfGzrDXD-k0aWD_ruUDrXllpIG8Rkzr5FKk4L3fYqlAVssyLiZlb9TkQjBieDNinDb_zqdQpBt/s1600/azaleas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="352" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsNYx5TBzpHABO08BkZaMqeNPEDedIRwqxBXpPEH4B-eHiqAqDCCtJQiTviKQpRtsslcNfGzrDXD-k0aWD_ruUDrXllpIG8Rkzr5FKk4L3fYqlAVssyLiZlb9TkQjBieDNinDb_zqdQpBt/s640/azaleas.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Florida fall is in full effect - sycamore leaves twirling in the wash of passing cars. Acorns crunching underfoot. And color! Sweetgum, sycamore, red maple, sugarberry, persimmon, black cherry, sassafras, and the flowering dogwood. The West Orange Trail this weekend was a riot of color. But my favorite season, by far, is just around the corner, when the camelias will bloom, followed by the azaleas and magnolia. Paradise! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good stuff:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A well-organized office</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Handel's Messiah - FREE!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Facebook - in moderation</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A good book (or three)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A well-stocked library</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Scrooged</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The morning paper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A job well-done</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dandelion fluff</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Maple seed helicopters</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Bradhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09047661517150490669noreply@blogger.com0