The frozen sky spits out a combination pack of snowflakes: huge, miniscule, fat, puffy, wispy, deflated. Something for everyone, except me. I am ready for spring; curmudgeonly winter with his ridiculous whims needs to go away. Back to yesterday, or last week. Back to when he was wanted, appreciated, welcomed.
Snowy day, snowy day.
I have no energy, just a belly full of decadent food and a gaping need for a long, warm nap.
Creme Brulee French Toast.
Goodnight, all. I’ll write tomorrow.
…and died on this day, 2 March, 1930.
D.H. Lawrence, 1906.
QUOTE: “I cannot cure myself of that most woeful of youth’s follies-thinking that those who care about us will care for the things that mean much to us.”
SOME WORKS: Sons and Lovers; The Rainbow; Women in Love; Aaron’s Rod; The Plumed Serpent; Lady Chatterley’s Lover; The Rocking-Horse Winner.
A KEEPSAKE:
Essay on D.H. Lawrence by Kenneth Young at Dunedin Street. $6.78
25 Fascinating Photos of Writers at Home [courtesy Flavorwire]
My Internet connection decided to play hooky this afternoon. It went away, leaving an onslaught of cold rain in its place. I ignored them both, sliding into a hot bath fragrant with salt, book in hand. It wasn’t a waste, but a swirling respite. A challenge. A challenge to be calm, if only for a few moments.
Bath time
The Tyler Davidson Fountain, aka The Genius of Water. Fountain Square, Cincinnati, Ohio.
“An artist is not paid for his labor but for his vision.”-James Whistler
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow by Julia Margaret Cameron, 1868
A random image taken on the fly during my visit home last month. Something about the juxtaposition turned on my imagination. Don’t ask me to explain-I just liked the combination and slightly skewed composition of totally unrelated objects that somehow, through an alchemy of memory, beauty, and wishful thinking, made perfect sense.
Cityscape
Zizi isn’t reading in this picture, but she is lounging on the arm of the comfiest chair in my studio-library.
Look at those eyes!
“I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.”-Jean Cocteau
“I don’t know which is more discouraging, literature or chickens.”-E.B. White
Chicken condo
All of these animals belong to my friend Rebecca.
“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”-Anatole France
A Small Press Life: Books. Art. Writing. Life. Tea. 