The crows flew in the face of the sunrise, not giving a shit, save for whatever they dropped on the sidewalks below. The most insignificant bird, and the wisp of its fleeting silhouette, still has the power to block out the whole sun if the angles and the timing are just right. From our self-serving vantage point, we could hold the sun and the moon in our fingertips; if we were patient enough we could drag them across the sky and bury them again before morning.
In between the riotous winter storms and the spells of cold there is quiet in this season, and there is brutality and starkness in the silence. It stretches and expands into dry, gray nothingness, like shadow and salt and a limitless abyss. Winter’s silence is insidious. Its ice takes hold in beautiful crystalline form, cradling one in exquisite splendor, a cloak of feathery crystal wings – and before you realize what has happened you are frozen in place, unable to blink for the immobile water glazing over your eyes.
These are dark thoughts, not fit for the light of a day, no matter how stormy. Let us move onto something happier, even if the wind wants to push us back.
Oh the bluster of a day! Winnie-the-Pooh assembled a motley crew of friends and forest co-habitants, but for the most part he enjoyed his solitude, content to have a pot of honey as his only companion for the duration of a winter. Still, his heart did well to see the likes of Piglet and Eeyore and even Tigger. Especially on particularly blustery days, when the wind howled and icicles formed. On those days, I indulge in a cookie. A cup of hot chocolate. A book. Or a blog.
“You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity. Indeed that’s what we provide in our own modest, humble, insignificant… oh, fuck it.” ~ M. Gustave
On nights where the wind howls and the snow and ice crackle against the windows, I hunker down beside the basement fire and pop in an appropriately-themed seasonal movie. In this case, it is the gorgeous and witty stylings of ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ by Wes Anderson. For me, Mr. Anderson’s movies have been hit-or-miss. I admire their style and distinctive imagery – every frame is a gorgeously surreal composition. The faded glory and former pomp of the Grand Budapest Hotel provides fertile ground for a story that was more engaging than it deserves to be, thanks to the characters and perfectly-cast actors, along with the magic of Wes Anderson, finally coming to full fruition for me.
“Rudeness is merely the expression of fear. People fear they won’t get what they want. The most dreadful and unattractive person only needs to be loved and they will open up like a flower.” ~ M. Gustave
With its almost Zen-like soundtrack – at once calming, mesmerizing, and dramatically tense in all the right places – and idyllic winter wonderland of some semi-fictional Eastern European country, this is one hotel you simply must visit. Let it engulf you, let it carry you away. Get lost in the compelling plot, or study each scene for its sheer beauty.
Fashion-wise, the film is magnificent. There isn’t a military-inspired coat or jacket that Anderson doesn’t like. The same goes for formal hotel worker garb. Sharp, smart, and tailored to perfection, even the lobby boys are splendiferous (check out those jaunty caps). And there’s a gray Astrakhan coat that Edward Norton wears that is criminally sublime.
There are a couple of real-life ways in which to celebrate the film if you love it as much as I do. The first is a limited edition fragrance based on the one M. Gustave applies so generously. It’s only available now and then on eBay it seems, and for quite a bit more than it’s probably worth. Then there is the recipe for the Mendl’s pastry – the instructions of which are one of the enchanting bonus features of the DVD. It starts out easy enough, and I’m sure Andy could handle it, but it may be beyond what my novice kitchen hands are currently capable of. We shall see.
In the end, though, it’s the heroic message of how some human beings do their best to raise everything, and everyone, around them. To be the absolute best they can be. To strive for perfection in a mostly imperfect atmosphere. To do it all in the name of honor and grace and respectability, no matter how things may be crumbling around them. There is nobility in that, and nobility is a lost art.
Winter in the Northeast is not known for being exceptionally colorful. Dreary, dull days of grays and browns are the general rule of the season, and if you want stimulation you must refine your view to appreciate the more subtle undulations in the texture of what’s around you. It takes a certain re-training of the eye, but fall, and the way it slowly smolders, gradually diminishing the saturated tones of summer, has always eased me into it. Now that winter’s here, the adjustment to elicit a more hidden beauty has been made.
One of the reasons I don’t rush to cut things down immediately at the end of the growing season (apart from the protection such brush affords) is because I know how uninteresting the landscape becomes without some structural interest. Even the deadest branch can be brought back to life with a fresh coating of snow. The grasses, and their fluffy seed heads, know this too. In addition, the sun can be just as transformative as the snow.
Truth be told, anything can be made stunning in the golden hour. Tans and browns and beiges, so unremarkable in the overcast gray haze of most winter days, suddenly spring to life when the late-afternoon sun slants down upon them. Against a blue sky, they erupt like fire, bringing to mind warmth and the memory of summer.
One of those tricky January thaws just visited the Northeast, and with it the teasing scent of spring gave the cruelest glimpse of what remains so far away. It was too quickly followed by a plunge back into below-freezing. I’ve always loved these little thaws, even if they wreak a certain emotional havoc with the seasonally-affected among us. On with the previous week in hindsight…
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
“There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
“As my sufferings mounted I soon realized that there were two ways in which I could respond to my situation — either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. I decided to follow the latter course.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
“People fail to get along because they fear each other; they fear each other because they don’t know each other; they don’t know each other because they have not communicated with each other.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
“Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
“Another way that you love your enemy is this: When the opportunity presents itself for you to defeat your enemy, that is the time which you must not do it. There will come a time, in many instances, when the person who hates you most, the person who has misused you most, the person who has gossiped about you most, the person who has spread false rumors about you most, there will come a time when you will have an opportunity to defeat that person. It might be in terms of a recommendation for a job; it might be in terms of helping that person to make some move in life. That’s the time you must do it. That is the meaning of love. In the final analysis, love is not this sentimental something that we talk about. It’s not merely an emotional something. Love is creative, understanding goodwill for all men. It is the refusal to defeat any individual. When you rise to the level of love, of its great beauty and power, you seek only to defeat evil systems. Individuals who happen to be caught up in that system, you love, but you seek to defeat the system.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
“One of the great liabilities of history is that all too many people fail to remain awake through great periods of social change. Every society has its protectors of status quo and its fraternities of the indifferent who are notorious for sleeping through revolutions. Today, our very survival depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ideas, to remain vigilant and to face the challenge of change.†― Martin Luther King Jr.
We all tend to get a little snippy in the winter months. Usually it doesn’t happen until later, but I’ve already noticed it in myself and in others. At such times, I take a deep breath (if possible – in below-zero temps that’s more difficult) and pause in whatever annoying mood I have stumbled upon or into. Gazing at the Christmas tree about to come down, or out at the snow that still stands brightly against the rising temperatures of the week, I remember to take in the moment.
A cardinal alights on the hedge in front of our house. Vivid scarlet against the dark evergreen backdrop, it reflects the last light of the day’s sun. It seems to peer directly into our front door, as if to say hello and bring a message of cheer in a stretch of gray days. I try to capture its brilliance, but as these grainy photos attest it is impossible to capture. That makes it all the more magical. As soon as I begin a closer examination of its feathers, it is gone.
The day is too cold to stay long outside anyway. Winter shirks off its fleeting beauty in quick fashion.
They were a cheap, last-minute addition to some summer party we were having, tacked on to the list of things that I thought of a day or two before the event. Maybe a buck a piece, they were so cost-effective that I could purchase thirty or forty to surround the pool, and the sheer number would have a bit of an impact. Solar-powered too, to ease Andy’s worries about the electric bill. A win-win situation if ever there was one. For all their flimsiness, these little lamps managed to survive into their second winter, in which they still put out their soft light. I’d forgotten about that until they suddenly shown with new radiance in the aftermath of a snowfall. Suddenly, with the surrounding snow reflecting various shades of blue from the darkening sky, the lights took on new beauty.
At first I felt sad.
The lights looked so small in such an expansive sea of snow. Some hadn’t even stored up enough light to blink on. Others were buried in drifts, just the tiniest mound rose to indicate that something was there. It reminded me of how far we were from a summer pool party. I couldn’t quite conjure the feeling of the sun on my back, or the laughter and excited squeals of kids jumping into the water. That had faded with the fall. I struggled to bring it back, and slowly the memories returned.
I pictured the potato vines descending from their perches, the brilliant chartreuse of their leaves never once faltered. I could see the bright blooms of a fuchsia, and the way their tubular form teased and enticed the hummingbirds. I remembered the chirps of chipmunks, the scrambling scuffles of squirrels, and the scary screech of a hawk high in the sky.
The sky was dimmer now, the sun lower. Still, this little light shone through the snow and the dark, reminding me with its sun-like rays that summer would return. Spring would come again. For now, we slept, but the sun will rise, even if it’s a little subdued. There was something calm about the light now. Brighter too, the way it was cradled by the snow, reflecting and glowing more than it could ever be beneath the shadows of the ferns.
Finally! A social media sensation that conveniently covers up my holiday belly! I am taking up the #KyloRenChallenge for no other reason than to emulate John Mayer. I’m doing my own take on the proceedings, because I’m guessing that Kylo Ren wasn’t actually wearing a corset. You say tomato, I say tomato. (Guess that doesn’t work as well in print.) Anyway, Happy Kylo Renning! May the force be with you. Send me your challenge pics! (Or don’t…)
Haven’t you had enough of recaps by now? I have. But it just so happens that after days of recaps, New Year’s falls on a Monday, and that’s when we recap the previous week. To avoid any added tumult and trauma from too many changes, I’ll keep that tradition alive with this post. It’s probably one of the most redundant recaps of all, because we just had three major posts that pretty much encapsulated the past twelve months:
But if that’s not enough for your end/beginning of the bridge between 2017 and 2018, here’s a nifty link-fiesta for the previous week. Some good stuff gets lost in the end-of-the-year madness, and I’m as guilty as anyone for glossing over the last week because it does feel like we’ve already had it. Who else is more than ready to move on? One last recap of 2017 and we shall do just that…
Fittingly, final honors of this recap go to the very first post of 2018: this is where you want to be. See you in a few days, when we shall return to the grind of it all, renewed and reinvigorated by the tick-tock of our socially-constructed calendar. Happy New Year!
LADIES AND GENTS, THIS IS THE MOMENT YOU’VE WAITED FOR
BEEN SEARCHING IN THE DARK, YOUR SWEAT SOAKING THROUGH THE FLOOR
AND BURIED IN YOUR BONES THERE’S AN ACHE THAT YOU CAN’T IGNORE
TAKING YOUR BREATH, STEALING YOUR MIND AND ALL THAT WAS REAL IS LEFT BEHIND
WHERE IT’S COVERED IN ALL THE COLORED LIGHTS
WHERE THE RUNAWAYS ARE RUNNING THE NIGHT
IMPOSSIBLE COMES TRUE, IT’S TAKING OVER YOU
OH, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW WE LIGHT IT UP, WE WON’T COME DOWN
AND THE SUN CAN’T STOP US NOW WATCHING IT COME TRUE, IT’S TAKING OVER YOU
OH, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!
Certain people are a circus party unto themselves. They know how to put on a show without making the slightest bit of effort. It’s who they are. They know how to command attention. They are precise in being admired. Deliberate in gaining adoration. They are killers when it comes to slaying on the stage of life.
They can enter a room like a stroke of lightning, and the atmosphere suddenly sparkles a bit more. Conversely, and much more tellingly, their absence is felt as a somber shift in spirit; on the days they are not present there is a marked and dreary difference. They have a knack of turning the mundane into something magnificent. They make the simple into something sublime. They are the show people who take center stage in whatever form they may manifest themselves.
Call it personality.
Call it charisma.
Call it star quality.
But the truth is you can’t really put it into words.
You just know it when you see it.
COLOSSAL WE COME THESE RENEGADES IN THE RING WHERE THE LOST GET FOUND IN THE CROWN OF THE CIRCUS KING
DON’T FIGHT IT, IT’S COMING FOR YOU, RUNNING AT YA
IT’S ONLY THIS MOMENT, DON’T CARE WHAT COMES AFTER
IT’S BLINDING OUTSIDE AND I THINK THAT YOU KNOW
JUST SURRENDER ‘CAUSE YOU’RE CALLING AND YOU WANNA GO
WHERE IT’S COVERED IN ALL THE COLORED LIGHTS
WHERE THE RUNAWAYS ARE RUNNING THE NIGHT
IMPOSSIBLE COMES TRUE, INTOXICATING YOU
OH, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW
WE LIGHT IT UP, WE WON’T COME DOWN
AND THE SUN CAN’T STOP US NOW WATCHING IT COME TRUE, IT’S TAKING OVER YOU
OH, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!
“If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity of the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of ‘creative temperament’ – it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald
When one is unsure of which way the world is taking, and what path our brethren might go, I find it best to be more of yourself than ever. Some scoff and say we should meet those who are different from us halfway, bending and shape-shifting to fit someone else’s idea of comfort and safety. I’ve always given a grand fuck-off to that kind of sentiment. No apologies. No regrets. This is me. It always will be. There’s nothing else.
As we begin this new year, with a chance for a new beginning, a chance to do it all over again, I rise to meet it – not with a wimper or wail, but a resounding clarion of hope, a beacon of defiance, and an invitation to join in this mad existence.
IT’S EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT, IT’S EVERYTHING YOU EVER NEED
AND IT’S HERE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, THIS IS WHERE YOU WANNA BE
IT’S EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT, IT’S EVERYTHING YOU EVER NEED
AND IT’S HERE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, THIS IS WHERE YOU WANNA BE THIS IS WHERE YOU WANNA BE!
Truth be told, human beings scare the fuck out of me. Look at what we’re doing to each other in this country. Look at what we’re doing to each other in this world. And look at what we’ve always done. Anyone with half a brain should shun all of us and go far, far away where no one else is. I feel that all the time. Every single day. Whether it’s social anxiety or simple jaded derision, I feel the distance between us, and most of me only wants to make it greater, to pull away, to hide and seclude. But a small voice inside tells me to keep going. To take a chance. To believe. To hope. That’s the voice I honor here. That’s why I do all the crazy shit I do. I push and defy and force myself into the world. I put on something pretty for the parade of life and I do my best to play a part in it. It’s a battle, and I can’t pretend it’s easy or comfortable or fun, but it’s a battle worth the effort.
We must become better.
WHEN IT’S COVERED IN ALL THE COLORED LIGHTS
WHERE THE RUNAWAYS ARE RUNNING THE NIGHT
IMPOSSIBLE COMES TRUE, IT’S TAKING OVER YOU
OH, THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW
WE LIGHT IT UP, WE WON’T COME DOWN
AND THE SUN CAN’T STOP US NOW
WATCHING IT COME TRUE, IT’S TAKING OVER YOU
THIS IS THE GREATEST SHOW!
The walls can’t stop us now…
Welcome to the New Year. I tip my hat to all of you.
The final installment for the 2017 Year in Review (after Parts One and Two), this one incorporates all our recent holiday events, and the ticking of time from fall to winter. It can be a wonderful ride if you open yourself up to the cozy charms of the season. Even if you don’t, sometimes the beauty seeps through no matter how you resist it. See you all next year!
This was the year that turned many more hairs gray. For that reason alone, I’m ready to call it quits for 2017. We are coming for you, 2018, and we are going to take you like you’ve never been taken before… See you next year.
Our year in review continues, and this entry encapsulates four months, including the big summer break I took for the first time since this website was created in 2003. While it’s a labor of love, it’s still a labor, and that break was integral to its survival. Plus, you won’t even notice that some of July and all of August are missing, will you?
If we are go by the social media monstrosities of Twitter and FaceBook, and the wretched state of political affairs in this country, 2017 was a dark and grim year, best left in the dust in the hope of a better 2018. Throughout the madness, I’ve striven to keep this small section of the internet a peaceful respite of beauty and tranquility, fun and frivolity, with the occasional dose of serious intent thrown in for good measure. I’m not sure I’ve succeeded, but let’s look back anyway. It’s the only way to move ahead. Besides, some of my favorite people appear here, and that’s always soul-enriching.
The 2017 Year in Review begins tonight, so this is one of my last original posts for this calendar year. I call it a gasp because these photos were taken in the harsh light of early day, before I even had a chance to shower or fix my hair. I was heading out to shovel the driveway (another gasp, thank you) but I paused to enjoy the winter wonderland that had arrived just in the St. Nick of time. I’m wearing a vintage parka that I picked up at a huge (70%) discount at Sault in Boston a few years ago. It’s warm and functional, but not as pretty as I’d like. Good fashion is suspended until the return of warmer weather. From here on out it’s Timberlands and hair-wrecking hoods. That’s ok. I need to let my hair down more, to not care about being perfect all the time, to wear my sweats and sneakers to the store. (Gasp again, I own both.) The older I get, the less I care about what others think. And let’s be perfectly honest: I never cared all that much in the first place. A dangerous recipe for any time, but especially troublesome at the end of the year.
PS – Only one small bit of my hair is white because there’s snow in it. The rest I earned in the last few years. I own that. Next up: the recap of all recaps.
