Category: Thinkings and poems

Thursday Doors – Tende

Source: Thursday Doors – Tende

Some amazing photographs here.Please take a  look

Extract

“Tende is a town on the old salt road from Nice in south east France to Piedmont in north west Italy. It is famous for the Vallee des Merveilles, a remote area in the mountains with thousands of carvings from the Bronze Age. The carvings (petroglyphs) were discovered by a British botanist, Clarence Bicknell, in 1881. The best way to visit the town is by the spectacular railway from the Riviera. But to get to the Valley of the Marvels, you need to hike for 8 hours or take a jeep. However, this blog is about the doors in the town.P1300573“

Channeling emotions

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https://www.nwp.org/cs/public/print/resource/402

https://www.nwp.org/cs/public/print/resource/402

 

Excerpt

Techniques Used in PoetryRefer to

a) “Any Morning” by William Stafford (Nye, 132)
b) “Eating Together” by Li-Young Lee (Dunning et al., 14)
c) “I Ask My Mother to Sing” by Li-Young Lee (Dunning et al., 106)
d) “Emergency Situation” by Hal Sirowitz (Nye, 12)
e) “Forgive My Guilt” by Robert P. Tristram Coffin (Dunning et al., 101)
f) “My Father in the Stacks” by David Hassler (Nye, 7)
g) “Sooner or Later” by Sam Cornish (Dunning et al., 115)

  1. Focus on one specific situation:

    1. a) lying on the couch in the morning
      b) eating dinner
      c) mother and grandmother singing of memories
      d) mother telling son to wear decent underwear
      e) shooting two birds in the wings
      g) a first funeral

    2. Or contrast two specific situations:

    f) child in father’s study; adult in library meeting father

     

  2. Create images in the reader’s mind. Help the reader picture what’s going on. Examples:

    a) “Just lying on the couch and being happy./Only humming a little”
    b) “brothers, sister, my mother who will taste the sweetest meat of the head”
    c) “the waterlilies fill with rain until/they overturn/spilling water into water”
    d) “I dressed you up/as a girl. You were gorgeous. You had curls”
    e) “they ran with broken wings/Into the sea, I ran to fetch them in”
    f) “I’ve grown tall like my father/wandering dark hours of the afternoon/in fields of print, rustling pages”
    g) “Your hands are still in your pockets”

  3. Use original language, perhaps similes and metaphors. Examples:

    a) “Little corners like this, pieces of Heaven/left lying around”
    b) “to sleep like a snow-covered road/winding through pines older than him”
    c) “sing like young girls” and “sway like a boat”
    e) “on golden legs slim as dream things” and “ran like quicksilver”
    f) “in fields of print” and “unwritten lives”

  4. Choose words for their impact, connotation, and sound. Use harsh sounding words for negative impact. Examples:

    a) trouble,” “judge,” “monitor,” “act busy,” “hide,” “frown”
    c) “picknickers running away in the grass,” “I love to hear it sung”
    d) “caught,” “reflection on me,” “bad,” “break,” “poor,” “embarrass me”
    e) “with jagged ivory bones where wings should be,” “two airy things forever denied the air!”
    f) “his bookshelves/dwarfed me,” “wandering,” “silence,” “pass each other”

  5. A strong image can be repeated effectively, sometimes to end the poem.

    e) “They cried like two sorrowful flutes” and “Those slender flutes of sorrow never cease”
    f) “Sometimes he’d pass me a book/if my hands were clean” and “We pass each other, my hands are clean”

 

Postcard 1 by Miklós Radnóti

Postcard 1
by Miklós Radnóti
written August 30, 1944
translated by Michael R. Burch

Out of Bulgaria, the great wild roar of the artillery thunders,
resounds on the mountain ridges, rebounds, then ebbs into silence
while here men, beasts, wagons and imagination all steadily increase;
the road whinnies and bucks, neighing; the maned sky gallops;
and you are eternally with me, love, constant amid all the chaos,
glowing within my conscience — incandescent, intense.
Somewhere within me, dear, you abide forever —
still, motionless, mute, like an angel stunned to silence by death
or a beetle hiding in the heart of a rotting tree.

First They Came for the Jews

by Martin Niemöller

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.

First They Came For The Muslims

by Michael R. Burch

First they came for the Muslims
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Muslim.

Then they came for the homosexuals
and I did not speak out
because I was not a homosexual.

Then they came for the feminists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a feminist.

Now when will they come for me
because I was too busy and too apathetic
to defend my sisters and brothers?

If I were blind, I’d have to feel my love

If I were blind, I’d have to feel my love
Your face, your skin, your body, all  so warm
I’d whisper in your ear like a small dove

I’d sniff you everywhere  and touch ungloved
Your arms, your legs, your chest, and bring you calm
If I were blind, I’d have to feel my love

And even all of that is  not enough
I’d want to dance with you, wrapped in your arms
I’d whisper in your ear like a small dove

Close your eyes and  go to sleep, I’ll prove
That I can caress you  with my sweet  balm
If I were blind, I’d have to feel my love

And you could caress me too if that were good.
We must enjoy the plenitude in turn
I’d whisper in your ear like a small dove.

Oh.would that God would  aid my  fierce  distress
As with  my fear, I lie low  in the dust
If I were blind, I’d have to feel my way
But were it God, I’d not know what to say

 

 

To Nothing

To see things from the centre of  our lives
We need to vanish from  our earthly minds
To get perspective from the vanished point
With silent prayer and stillness, we must   haunt

We enjoy  the losing  of the self in flow
With our heart and mind, we let all go
Yet sadly we compete for image fine
As if our clothes and hair are what defines

When in pain, we focus on our self,
We lose that focus as we regain health.
What is our ego to that infinite point?
A point is nothing, can’t be seen, nor caught.

So into Nothing ,we must go with  song
As trusting Nothing, we cannot be wrong.

In the  total stillness is his grace

The vanishing point’s not something we can snare,
For as we move towards it, it’s nowhere.
The two sides of a road will never meet
Despite you run with your eternal feet.

Yet we seem to see it as we stare,
Its existence is remote yet clear.
In the geometry of  dimension three,
Infinitely dear, this point ‘s not me

And so I ask myself if God compares.
We need his “presence” whether he is ” here.”
Without  that “point of view.” we have no “selves”
To see the holy earth in all its wealth.

Fast retreating from the ones who chase
In the  mystic stillness, he is grace

 

 

A

Perspective and vanishing points

https://www.thoughtco.com/vanishing-point-drawing-What Is a Vanishing Point in Art?

The Key to Drawing in Perspective

Row of Cypress trees and farmhouse at sunrise

Gary Yeowell / Getty Images
Updated June 17, 2017

A vanishing point, or point of convergence, is a key element in many works of art. In a linear perspective drawing, the vanishing point is the spot on the horizon line to which the receding parallel lines diminish. It is what allows us to create drawings, paintings, and photographs that have a three-dimensional look.

The easiest way to illustrate this in real life is to stand in the middle of a straight road.

When you do this, you’ll notice how the sides of the road and the lines painted on it meet in one spot on the horizon. The center line will go straight for it and the lines on the side will angle in until all of them intersect. That point of intersection is the vanishing point.

USING A VANISHING POINT IN ART

Take a look at the objects in the room around you. Those items that are further away from you appear smaller and closer together than objects that are nearby. As objects get even farther away, they become very tiny and eventually they converge into a single point.

This is a sort of optical illusion that we attempt to emulate when drawing a picture. Without it, everything would look flat and the scene would have no depth. Also, the viewer would not be able to relate the scale and distance of objects.

The simplest way to see this is in a one-point perspective drawing. In it, all of the horizontal and vertical lines of the primary plane run straight with the paper.

The lines that move away from us—the sides of boxes, the road we are on, or the railway lines in front of us—converge towards the center of the picture. These are called orthogonal lines, a term derived from mathematics.

The center point is the vanishing point. When drawing, you will use it as the target for all of your orthogonals and this is what gives the drawing perspective.

MORE THAN ONE VANISHING POINT

In two-point perspective, our subject is angled so that each of the two sides—left and right—have their own vanishing point. In real life, the angle between these combines with our low point of view to make the vanishing points appear very far apart.

If you’re drawing from life and try to construct your vanishing points, you’ll find that they are often off of the paper. They can even be as much as an entire meter across your wall or table. When working from a photograph, that distance can change depending on the lens used by the photographer.

HOW TO HANDLE MULTIPLE VANISHING POINTS

In three-point perspective, each of the vanishing points can be even more extreme. This leads to a problem about where to place your vanishing points for reference.

Artists have a few tricks to help them solve this issue. Many who have a great deal of experience simply imagine where their vanishing points are. This, however, comes with years of practice and a great understanding of correct perspective.

Most people will find it useful to place vanishing points on the edges of the paper. This must be done on a plane that is equal to where the vanishing point would normally be. Again, it takes a bit of visualization to find this spot.

When you are brand new to constructing perspective, it will be most helpful to use an extra sheet of paper. Place this on the table next to your drawing paper and tape both pieces down if needed to ensure they don’t move. Use the spare paper to mark your vanishing point and use it as a reference for all of your orthogonal lines.

As you become experienced with this, analyze your drawings to find the location of the vanishing points on the drawing paper. Soon, you will be able to forego the second sheet altogether.

 

The vanishing point— used in perpective drawings

DSCF0026

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/point_at_infinity

Noun[edit]

point at infinity (plural points at infinity)

  1. An asymptotic point in 3-dimensional space, viewed from some point, at which parallel lines appear to meet and which in perspective drawing is represented as a vanishing point.  

Lace curtains

Did you know that if you wear spectacles you can buy net curtains for the lenses.I am unsure what the police  may think but it hides your eyes quite well and you can still see as long as you wash the nets weekly

Alternatively, you can buy hats with veils.Beware if you are a man…it could give the wrong message or the right one!If that’s no good but a black bin bag on your head with holes for your eyes,nose   and mouth and a sign on saying

I’m  just an introvert

Keep quiet

Alas, people might think you are wearing religious dress.Which religion makes you wear bin liners? I have no idea.You could say you are an unenclosed nun!

You must go out or you may get SAD.I caught it and I am in deep misery all day.Then I stay up all night cleaning the bathroom.It’s hard life being so full of good will and yet needing a human of my own.I will even marry a human if it’s legal……I’m just a pen here with an attached body.

Isn’t life fun when you are crazy?

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Or is it to manipulate she’s here?

The widow makes complaints, as if I’m God
Again she says she loved her husband  dear
I would love to help her if I could

There are a few alternatives to plot
Accept, endure, there is no answer clear
The widow makes complaints as if I’m God

She thinks committing suicide  is good;
Or is it to manipulate she’s here?
I would like to help her if I could.

I feel my mouth go dry as if I’m wood.
I have my own  new little boat to steer
The widow makes comp ints, as if I’m God

I can understand the thickening of the blood
My mind is filled with sadness  when she’s near
I would have surely helped her if I could.

It’s true that grief feels like a panic fear
Without  the one who loved you ,your heart’s seared
The widow makes complaints, as if I’m God
I can never help her, no one could

 

 

 

 

My printer

My printer is an introvert dismayed
With the Wi Fi router, it’s not pleased
My printer will not print again today.

Next, it starts to  print from Google Cloud
Somehow Google has it seized
My printer is malicious and too proud.

I go back to the laptop but by now
It’s decided to do updates , am I pleased?
I’ll have to use the Chromebook if allowed.

Windows says I have got no home group
It runs a troubleshooter as a wheeze
Round and round it  runs in a strange loop.

The Windows laptop  is a great device
Unless when you sit by it you shed leaves
Or use its heat to boil a pan of rice

They told me using laptops is a breeze
And foolishly I submitted to their pleas
My printer is an introvert dismayed
My printer will  only print  on cloud  today.

N

 

Famous poems

photo05791

https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem-day

They publish a poem  by a well known poet every day

 

L’Envoi

Willa Cather

Where are the loves that we have loved before
When once we are alone, and shut the door?
No matter whose the arms that held me fast,
The arms of Darkness hold me at the last.
No matter down what primrose path I tend,
I kiss the lips of Silence in the end.
No matter on what heart I found delight,
I come again unto the breast of Night.
No matter when or how love did befall,
’Tis Loneliness that loves me best of all,
And in the end she claims me, and I know
That she will stay, though all the rest may go.
No matter whose the eyes that I would keep
Near in the dark, ’tis in the eyes of Sleep
That I must look and look forever more,
When once I am alone, and shut the door.

Some things we understand too late

Photo0335 2

I don’t know if my older brothers were unusually cruel to me as I do know families contain both love and hate.They seemed cruel and were always doing nasty things like setting my hair on fire leaving a bald spot [ possibly a crime] or emptying the baby’s pot over my head.
But I learned recently from one that when they began school aged 5 and 4 they were being given help in learning to read and apparently I aged 3 had taught myself to read very quickly.So Ma used to shame them by pointing out my precocity.That seems to have been a foolish thing.They must have been angry I imagine.
I do think making comparisons is very bad for us and causes envy and jealousy.When I broke my leg around that time they offered to run a race with me.I was so thrilled they wanted me it took me a few minutes to understand their little game.Children can  be crueler than adults.
After my husband thoughful;y ascended into heaven, one of them said: it’s going to take you a few weeks to get over this.Still, the housework will keep you going.Housework!! Yahhh.

That’s enough

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1.Isosceles has lost his triangle.He might beat a drum instead.
2.Meanwhile, Conic has been sectioned.The government said they were spending more on mental health so watch out or you will be locked up too.Does locking up sad. worried insecure people really help them, I wonder?
The Red Sea parted yesterday but nobody crossed it.Would the good Lord part it for a terrorist?What is a terrorist? The Governments of democracies use torture now on people who have never been charged.I don’t think we really have true democracy and as Plato said, we’re mostly pretty dumb.But having a dictator does not worl=k.Would
Dr Winnicott or the poet T S Elliot have liked to be dictators? Only of poems I imagine
3. ” Die  Amateur” is my new book linking love of leisure with Euclidean or even non-Euclidean geometry or was it suppository?I suppose not.I also. explain how to die without first getting a degree in Thanatology.It’s  nice word.
Die Amateur has many meanings.Anti-  making everything the province of professionals without denying expertise and high learning.
4.That’s enough,The Edit-her

My newsletter continued

Dear All,
I am sure you can’t wait for my next installment of news and family success.
.I am out of breath after putting away all my groceries,  brought by Ocado.At last, I have some Waitrose food.It’s 3 years since I had any.
My first son who was born when I was a student at Boxford… yes,  he is illegitimate but never mind……well he is coming to see me but not his father who is  a Professor Emeritus.”Embarrassed us” would be apterSo I have splashed out and bought some tinned soup and also liver and bacon instead of  the Whiskas cat food I eat with pasta most days..Alas, I forgot to get any puddings but I may well make a bitter chocolatw mould or a Russian Cheesecake.I suspect it is really a Jewish recipe.The Russians stole their recipes before killing many of them in the pogroms.I find that somewhat hard to accept.How can they have eaten their food when they hated them so evilly?We are not rational

My son is an MP but his name is a secret.From you, I mean.Not from the voters.He is trying his best but with all those other nitwits it’s not easy.If you watched “The House of Cards” you will get the picture.He is married and has six children.Why he is almost like a brother to me.His children are all silent but gifted.One can actually read music.I never even knew you were meant to
Normally I  listen to it but it takes all sorts!
Well, that is my first son explained only four left!
Into the kitchen now
Byee
Kristy = can’t even scalp my won mane now

PS Give a donation to the Red Cross instead of paying me.Thank you

I hope that you won’t  use me if you bake.

My heart  is cracked like almonds are in cakes
Often  they are bought already  ground
I hope that noone here intends to bake.

I used to see small cakes with almond flakes
In the days of pence, shillings, and pounds
My heart  is cracked like almonds are in cakes

But every heart  has got its  many cracks
Every person suffers from life’s wounds
I hope that noone here intends to bake.

And many hearts have been with   fake love  broke
Yet vulnerable and human we resound
We cover up our hearts with a thick cloak

Some are givers, some can only take
Both are needed when we make a friend
I hope that someone here intends to bake.

Some are rigid and can never bend
Some are agile and will always blend
My heart  is cracked like almonds are in cakes
I hope that you won’t  use me if you bake.

 

Somebody copied the title of my poem

apple-tree-and-sunshine

Yes, someone did exactly that.But I don’t mind because probably they could not think of such a perfect phrase themselves.
But I did mind when a company that plagiarises poems and sells them to students in the USA to pass off as their own work. was stealing poems from here.But it was also quite funny to imagine how an essay by someone who writes in American English would contain a poem which would not fit in with that.

Is this good advice?

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Photo by my nephew.Copyright

http://www.refinethemind.com/not-being-well-liked-by-everyone/

 

Let’s Embrace Those Who Judge, Scoff, and Speak Ill of Us

Caring too much about what others think of you stifles your ability to take risks and disrupts your social satisfaction. The funny thing is — whether we invest energy into making others like us or not, there will always be people who don’t. 

Historically, many of the most loved people were also among the most hated while they were alive. Jesus Christ, Abraham Lincoln, and John Lennon were all assassinated for spreading messages of love and understanding. So, I’m suggesting that we’d all be much better off embracing those who will find reason to despise us.

It’s so much easier to do this than to waste our lives allowing the faultfinders to dictate our actions. Moreover, being disliked by people is actually a sign that you’re doing something worthwhile.

Leisure the basis of culture

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Leisure, the Basis of Culture: An Obscure German Philosopher’s Timely 1948 Manifesto for Reclaiming Our Human Dignity in a Culture of Workaholism

 

“Leisure lives on affirmation. It is not the same as the absence of activity … or even as an inner quiet. It is rather like the stillness in the conversation of lovers, which is fed by their oneness.”

BY MARIA POPOVA

“We get such a kick out of looking forward to pleasures and rushing ahead to meet them that we can’t slow down enough to enjoy them when they come,” Alan Watts observed in 1970, aptly declaring us “a civilization which suffers from chronic disappointment.” Two millennia earlier, Aristotle asserted: “This is the main question, with what activity one’s leisure is filled.”

Today, in our culture of productivity-fetishism, we have succumbed to the tyrannical notion of “work/life balance” and have come to see the very notion of “leisure” not as essential to the human spirit but as self-indulgent luxury reserved for the privileged or deplorable idleness reserved for the lazy. And yet the most significant human achievements between Aristotle’s time and our own — our greatest art, the most enduring ideas of philosophy, the spark for every technological breakthrough — originated in leisure, in moments of unburdened contemplation, of absolute presence with the universe within one’s own mind and absolute attentiveness to life without, be it Galileo inventing modern timekeeping after watching a pendulum swing in a cathedral or Oliver Sacks illuminating music’s incredible effects on the mind while hiking in a Norwegian fjord.

So how did we end up so conflicted about cultivating a culture of leisure?

In 1948, only a year after the word “workaholic” was coined in Canada and a year before an American career counselor issued the first concentrated countercultural clarion call for rethinking work, the German philosopher Josef Pieper (May 4, 1904–November 6, 1997) penned Leisure, the Basis of Culture (public library) — a magnificent manifesto for reclaiming human dignity in a culture of compulsive workaholism, triply timely today, in an age when we have commodified our aliveness so much as to mistake making a living for having a life