London, 2008: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets

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 written the book on the case. 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.

The good stuff:

Comfort food

Apple cinnamon oatmeal

eucalyptus

Niquel

Antibiotics

glad tidings

great joy

angels - of all stripes

DIY web design

Solstice

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.

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.

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."

Peace to you all.

Pinocchio - the later years

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.

The good stuff:

Pot luck at the Kerouac House

A good yarn

A nice sweater made from good yarn

Apples and peanut butter

Barnstorming hawks

Woodpeckers at the window

Pajama weekends

Community

Linear parks

Writer talk

Pinocchio -- artist's model

Another great sculpture by Cheryl Bogdanowitsch

 

The good stuff:

A warm day in winter

Rowers at dawn

Ferris wheels

Dancing shoes

Wind-up monkeys

Puppet boxing

Packages on the porch

Crisp, shiny apples

chimney smoke

Faces off

This shot of fragments in Cheryl Bodganowitsch's woodpile would make a nice cover image for a poetry collection.

The good stuff:

Blue moons

Spaghetti and brocolli slaw

New office supplies (feels like new school supplies)

Poetry in motion

Infinity - and beyond

Questions without answers

The Three Musketeers 

Traffic circles

Crop circles

Turning in circles 

Fellahin

More beautiful detail from the work of Cheryl Bogdanowitsch. This one reminded me of that famous National Geographic Cover, 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.

The good stuff:

The exhaustion of a day well-spent

Cold weather - nature's bug zapper

Woohoo! 30 degrees - no more lawn mowing this year

Getting pulled over for a burned out headlight - on my way to an auto parts store (no ticket)

Silk Soy Nog. Not the product itself, I just like saying it.

Sidewalk chalk

Vermillion

Chartreuse

Cinnamon candles

Spelunking for sweaters

Blue Angel

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.

The good stuff:

Offsetting setbacks.
New Hope For Kids Christma Light Ride organizers and marshals (y'all rock! Thanks!)
Ray LaHood
Rails To Trails Conservancy
Living on the verge
40 degrees and sunny - mmm, brisk
Buffalo chicken quesadillas
Christmas parties
White elephant gift exchanges
fondue fu

Collaboration

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.

The good stuff:

Friends at the Enzian

Snickerdoodles

saying "snickerdoodle"

cheap sunglasses

margarita salt sombreros

moving bookcases

giant libraries

library giants

baby bats

local bands

Wood-witsch

Darlyn had a surprise for me. "I want you to meet my artist," she said. "Bring your camera."

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 Cheryl Bogdanowitsch, 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 Orlando Magazine back in 2007.

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.

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.  

The good stuff:

The REAL Orlando

Lobster bisque and bourbon pecan chocolate pie at Logan's Bistro

Almond brie quesadillas with mango chutney, served sushi-style, at Sip.

Circus train - just passing through.

Creamy Jif, from a spoon!

Getting by with a little help from my friends

Howl - tonight at the Enzian

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?

Green and groovin'

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 Orlando Magazine. 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.

Japanese beer in American aluminum, brewed in Los Angeles

Spaghetti - with whole mushrooms and fresh basil. No spaghetti.

Clearance, Clarence

Roger, Roger

Leslie Nielsen - RIP

Mr. Natural

Kilroy

Banksy

Obey-Giant

Public graffiti walls

Scribbler's Corner

Darlyn at work is a beautiful thing. ... Darlyn at work is a beautiful thing. 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.


The Good Stuff:

Bluejay at my window
Warm, fuzzy socks
Hot ginger tea
Pom Pom's Teahouse and Sandwicheria
Chocolate Guiness cupcakes
Snowy nights and Christmas lights. Tinsel afternoons.
First Friday arts strolls
Orlando Shakespeare Theater
The Innocence Project
Scribbles

Bric-a-brat

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.

The good stuff:

"Snow" falling softly on Market Street at Celebration

Florida winter - both days

Fireplaces - just because

Rock Band Freebird - family style!

Airing out the sweaters

The first seasonal whiff of a heater

Outdoor cafes with propane heaters

Cold, clear nights - so many stars!

Christmas lights

Holiday decorations

I am the wall-rus

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.

The good stuff:

The Beatles catalog is now available on iTunes!!! Finally!

Strawberry fields

For the Benefit of Mr. Kite

Norwegian Wood

Blackbird

Yesterday

Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey

Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds

Maxwell's Silver Hammer

A Day in the Life

Dog House

A busy, but good, day yesterday. Had to escape to my watercolor happy place. This Key West cottage is, well, soooo Key West.

Pastel paint: Check.

Gingerbread: Check.

Dogs on roof: Check.

Mermaid figurehead on the attic vent: Check.

Homeowners association says: "two snaps up."

The good stuff:

Big lazy dogs

Blue lazy days

Cocktails served in a hollowed out pineapple

The tractor beams of Christmas

Snow (on tv)

Sun (on my face)

Formal flip flops

Moving vans in the neighborhood - moving in

Wayward pelicans

The smell of fresh bread.