RIP

In memory: Charles Aznavour (1924-2018) the “French pop deity” – may he RIP.
Portrait of Aznavour from 1964. Author unknown.

In memory of Charles Anznavour (1924-2018) - the French pop deity - may he RIP. Portrait of Aznavour from 1964. Author unknown.

Some Days

Some days are easier than others. No doubt. And I’m quite going through a recovery from the Kavanaugh hearings. I had no intention of watching that, but ended up with a group and that was the point, or pointlessness, of the gathering. Had I known I doubt that I would have gone. But I did.

TaozEnn

Tao & Zen

It was disheartening and puzzling and once again confirms that which we already know: people see what they want to see. Opinions are not changed by the facts. The facts are changed to fit the opinions.

The support or anger toward Brett Kavanaugh was only reinforced by his behavior and speeches.

Appalled by his attack on questioners?  Another person shouts hoorah, about time he stood up for himself.  Frustrated by his evasions of direct questions and his continual reversions to “I am innocent”? Someone else is just as sympathetic for him and his family, being so persecuted, their lives are in ruins. Because he’s innocent.

Memories become movies edited for the audience. Recall from a speech given only the day before can be reassigned to a different participant, depending upon the desired effect, of course.

And on and on. And so it goes. And once again from the mice, that’s the wayyyyyy things are. Some days, anyway. I hope not all of them.

 

And Then There’s This…

GBpackers247Sports

GB Packers 247 Sports

It was a lousy game, but still. If anyone watched the McCarthy interview after the game (17—31 Redskins) you could tell he was seething. He was asked questions about the call (ref’s) and he said he couldn’t comment, that it was up to the NFL, the league, to decide what they were going to do. [That in reference to the new quarterback penalty rule and how to make calls on it.] He did add, however, that he was not going to be talking to Clay about the penalty as he did nothing to be penalized for. Interesting also how one commenter said obviously referees know nothing about physics. He’d like to see them stop any better than Clay did after running full tilt at anything.

Isn’t there something about an object in motion tending to stay in motion?

And as the mice say: That’s the wayyyyyy things are.

Catching Up…

…Again, One More Time

BobBlairStreetsbnaturePreserve

Bob Blair—Streetsborough Nature Preserve

A sweet and peaceful pathway through the wood. And see, how lovely glows the light.

So much, so little, such is time. A friend came to rescue me as apparently I had gone a wee bit delirious with fever. Short story:  emergency, hospital & treatment, home again. Home just soon enough to watch the Packers tie (tie? yes, tie 29-29) and the Browns tied last week and took a win on Thursday night football. Indeed, it must be the end of time. End times upon us.

I’m still not 100% but close enough—enough to know that there is a settling in of self, only noticeable when distanced from same. And now for the catching up of writing en media res and photos with notes, and thoughts beginning to scramble through once again. Rather like tossing a football about when sleep not only eludes but tires the soul.

And autumn and hikes and cool sweet days must surely lie ahead.

 

 

Art To Embarrass

 

Toulouse-Lautrec, Henride

‘Divan Japonais’ by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1892-1893)

Now my head is hanging so low it could be touching the ground. For Heaven’s Sake! This is the danger of Art exploration amongst the masses, I as a prime example.

I have liked Art Nouveau. I just didn’t know it was that. I had this in a wallpaper design in a house I once owned. Who knows what period I thought it was. Or at least what art period I was in. And did I tell you about the Toulouse-Lautrec fiasco? More to blush and cringe about.

As I looked for Art books about our dear Henri, I searched and searched to no avail. I knew I liked his work, I knew he was popular, and I knew he should be amongst the books in the Art section of a store. Nothing. Other stores, other searches, nothing. I had a sense that something was wrong, and that it had to do with me. Indeed. When at last I stumbled upon the art books I wanted, I discovered that Toulouse was not his first name, but part of a hyphenated last name.

And so, the dangers and victories of self-education. No matter how many years it takes.