I really don't have a clue sometimes.....

STRANGE FRUIT......

I had a dream last night......an image from my childhood in Alabama recurred with frightening intensity......it hasn't been that long ago that this happened, in the playground of a children's elementary school!

TRAGICALLY HIP AND BEAUTIFULLY SCARRED

LONG-LIVED AND NOT-SOs

When My great, great, great, great, great grandfather, James Connally immigrated from Dublin, Ireland to Virginia in the 1670's, it was customary to return to Europe to have children....Thomas Connally, when his wife Anne Mayfield conceived James, took the long voyage to London that their offspring might have a greater opportunity to survive.....Upon his return to Virginia, he grew ill and, at 49 died. Interestingly enough, his Father who died in his late 80's outlived 3 wives, who bore him 28 children!

Pascal Rogé enters with the draft

Brideshead Revisited - Always Summer......Then Fall....Then Winter.....

Out of the Cradle.....Endlessly rocking......Where does the idealism of Youth go? I just re-read the novel....then, remembering the 1981 film adaptation with Jeremy Irons......I fell into nostalgic meanderings through emotional memories......As I fall toward my 70's, which will be here in a flash, with the diminishment of expectation and the resolution of misspent time, I am left alone with my musings on the would-have-beens and wish-it-weres, to contemplate...as millions have done before me....the trajectories of Fate, Happenstance, Coincidence and Will...the place that I am, my scorn of mediocrity, my thirst for Platonic Truth and my conciliatory acceptance of amphilogistic seques along the coursing to Oblivion. Where does the Time go? I feel that I have journeyed deep into the labyrinth of this continuum, into an impenetrable forest of expectations, anticipations and utopian hopes; but, as the strength of youth begins to fail, I must fall on the path, imagining the spirits of the dead before me, still beckoning, as I stumble forward of my last footsteps.....

Well, who ARE you, really!

 

Bob Jones….old boyfriend….1971

 

Triple Scorpio!

THINK ABOUT IT…..

 

NINA TELLS IT~

Through the open window I can see
The tiny clouds hovering in the sky
The wind is blowing, my nose is freezing
... a few exhaust pipes are spluttering.

Ah, the sun is going down
Red and gold, as it should be
I look down to the street below
And see a friend standing there

Suddenly my heart feels heavy
I just need to see birds fluttering
And my eyes turn up to the sky
How it hurts my soul - how beautiful!

Nature in the evening, a peaceful town
Tormented soul, the tears flow
It all makes me feel so feeble
And makes the tears flow even more
Aaah...

Sam Harris - The Illusion of Free Will

Inattendant hypervigilence

President Obama's beautful, hopeful and truly Christlike Speech to his People

I am feeling so uplifted and hopeful....my tears are feeling Hope and our President's commitment to a higher consciousness for Americans, and his connection to his staff, his family and his people.... my hopeful mood led me to BIRDSONG........ Thank you, President Obama......for uplifting your people....Thank you......

DRAWING WITHOUT PROCESSING…….

 

Echo of Small Things by Robert Rich

Lord of the Flies 1963

.............UNCLE ARTHUR'S BEDTIME STORIES

I recently re-discovered a 5 volume set of "bedtime" stories, written by Arthur Maxwell, that was presented to me by my Presbyterian Aunt Frances....in 1955.

ELLIOT LONDON.......FRIENDS

Repudiative Enantiodromia, Anamnesis and Memory Transformation.....

 During a week of dark irony, I revisited GIRL ON THE BRIDGE,  a film by Patrice Leconte; watched both THE HOURS and  SYLVIA.......The dominant theme of all three films is depression and suicide....
the subconsious motivations.....or unconscious.....directing creative minds to behave in ways that the conscious mind realizes will ultimately result in inescapable despair and Death.   Often, the mania, creativeness and false-optimism of hysteria establishes a counterpoint, turning on a glance, a nuanced change of pitch or  subtle body language, which re-directs the inhibitory devices that have evolved to counter-assist the coping mechanisms, rendering the reinitialization of self-negation a worthless contrivance......Our subconscious terrors may manifest, channeled completely in Art,  Neurosis or Transformation...a reaction formation.....The theft of memories and the substitution of false memories compels the thief to reboot the ancient protocols.......Nevertheless, the Unseen will out repressed and subjugated motivations......even in subsequent generations of the chromosomes that have been modified by anxiety and hopelessness, even though these sad feelings had never become conscious.......


Patrice Leconte has a new film....still a bit under the radar......THE SUICIDE SHOP.......In which Leconte conjectures a world in which depression and despair are the norm, an into which a happy child is born.........

Happy Birthday, REBECCA

ANALEPSIS

 

last year's flowers again thrust to an early Spring's light,
always more beautiful than I had remembered from years before,
like old memories recalling restructured dreams.....





    Romeo and Juliet by SJ Pettersson

CRAZY....IN DISGUISE

behind all faces is Vunerability.......dressing and appearing as who i feel i am has always been far easier than maintaining the masks of self-confidence, knowing, immutability and consistence; however, those most hidden by deception are made uneasy.    There are days when everyone seems as they "are", yet, on being seen, most...with lightening speed......revert to images that insulate them from view.........button-down collars, wing-tip shoes, fashionable hair styles, contouring make-up, status-defining accents and inflections, situational posturing and controlled reactions......All of which serve the Egos that deny access to the mess they feel inside........Then, armed with all the devices of inscrutability, profess their  longing needs for intimacy and openness..........We are what we allow...

 


    Hero of the Grey Area by SGX