Here’s one last spoonful of February.Thanks for “listen”ing!
Today I had the privilege of working with two of the true Sweethearts of the Village Gallery. One of them was Ricki Losee, as above. I hope to devote a future post to the other of them, but for today she will remain anonymous.
As for Ricki, her artwork in Prismacolor pencils is a celebration of vibrant, color-saturated life. She is at one with nature, especially with those creatures she deems Happy Things, which include birds and butterflies. Every nature drawing I have seen of hers has love, loyalty and creature-fellowship in it.
This page occurred mostly during a lull in the early shift, when Ricki asked me about my poetry and I decided to demo it for her, noting the happy fact that both of her names, Ricki and Losee, are five characters long. While I worked I talked to her about things important to her. Reverence for life is way up there, as is her love for her ornithology-inclined daughter, who is studying raptors, golden eagles in particular, and in pursuit of a Ph.D. So I have surrounded Ricki with not only a few sketchnails of her drawings, but also a golden eagle in full wingflex.
The words to the eponymous double acrostic are these:
Reverence for life ensures you have a tale to tell
If you see some Happy Things they just may say Hello
Cackles, birdsong, cacophonic squawks–and so it goes
Keeping conversation with a Condor? Do not grouse
It may turn to dietary issues–like a mouse
When is a Poem not a Poem? When it’s a Poem Made Into An Image. This poem-plus begins “over coffee this morning you basked in the undeniable fact” and it ends “superb weekend.” The rest is up to you do decipher, or not–enjoy the image alone if you wish. It all started by speculation on what the opposite of that “lost weekend” was. See THE LOST WEEKEND starring Ray Milland for more information.
Creation begets digression begets more creation. You want to know more about Latvia. You find a map of Latvia. It occurs to you that the curvature of a bisque-fired teapot might suit a drawing of the map of Latvia more than flat paper would. You draw Latvia and surrounds on your teapot. Lacking a good camera, but having a webcam that works if you record video, you do so. You do a print screen of a still from the video. It is none too good, but intriguing. You click “New Post” and copy and paste the title of the previous post. You tweak the title, which itself a tweak of the one before that one. Here we are. No guarantees that we’ll be stopping at “seven of seven.” There may well be an “eight of eight” or even an “eight of seven.” That’s Creation for you.
Since my last post I’ve learned that Catherine the Great was Latvian. Hers is a true rags-to-riches story, and no wonder Mae West strode the boards in her honor in Catherine Was Great.
I found this young woman in an Internet search for “Latvian woman.” Her garb indicates she is unmarried. She is Lithuanian, not Latvian, but just south of the border.
Here is a shameful false start on the verses. The meter is fine, the rhyme is good, but each line is self-contained platitudinous nonsense that does not advance story, symbolism nor truth. I have stacks and stacks of such in my seven-year history of acrostic poetry.
It’s time for research: history of Latvia, significance of the ankh, anklet styles then and now. Stay tuned!
something needs to be said of barley
barley makes an ideal soup ingredient
it is a sponge for broth
and thus a gum and tongue pleaser
apparently it is used for beer as well
but more subtlely
tolkien once named an innkeeper barliman butterbur
barley for short
and made him fat and chatty and slow of mind and pure of heart
fitting his name
which–hey–imagine alfalfiman aloebur
alfie for short
too too bristly
barley sounds like barney
father of barbie? sure
be ye more like barley
kick it up a notch
make yourself unsnarly
butter up your scotch