tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76407187340201313132012-01-31T09:42:33.670-05:00A fortnightly [every 14th &amp; 28th] literary blog of <br>connection &amp; coincidence; custom &amp; ceremonyKitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.comBlogger731100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-2023443922938264112012-01-28T08:44:00.021-05:002012-01-31T09:42:33.683-05:00

Includes: "Lullaby of Broadway" (from 42nd Street)"Never - Never Land" (from Peter Pan)"Jenny Rebecca" (by Carol Hall)"Blueberry Eyes" (from Gone With the Wind)"Castle on a Cloud" (from Les Miserables)"Not While I'm Around" (from Sweeney Todd)"My Broth of a Boy" (by Cole Porter)"Edelweiss" (from The Sound of Music)"New Words" (by Maury Yeston)"Count Your Blessings" (from White Christmas)Lullabies

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-7237014882320878042012-01-14T18:01:00.011-05:002012-01-28T09:25:11.162-05:00

"Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feedingA little life with dried tubers."from The Wastelandby T. S. EliotA new year full of new words! Some of the best New Year's words I know come from T. S. Eliot's "Four Quartets":Quartet No. 1: Burnt NortonQuartet No. 2: East CokerQuartet No. 3: The Dry SalvagesQuartet No. 4: Little Gidding.These are perfect poems for the

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-57163663838569693072011-12-28T20:33:00.038-05:002012-01-28T09:21:11.615-05:00

"When we are constantly focused on externals,we are not centered, that is, we are not alignedinternally -- body, mind and soul.Without that alignment,we have a case of Divine Homesickness.We feel empty and lost, always tryingto find our way Home . . . alwayslooking for something 'out there' to fill us up.And nothing out there can."fromThe Little Book of Peace of Mindby Susan JeffersSimilarly,

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-23346862085741464092011-12-14T01:12:00.027-05:002011-12-22T13:23:56.537-05:00

"HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS"One of my favorite anonymous essays, "The Bad and Worse Sides of Thanksgiving," appeared in The New Yorker, twenty - some years ago. I wish I knew who wrote it, but so far Google has not been able to help me track down this information. The unnamed satirist declares that "At last it is time to speak the truth about Thanksgiving. The truth is this: it is not a

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-14808234819519341912011-11-28T03:34:00.015-05:002011-12-14T00:37:50.945-05:00

"Now it is autumn and the falling fruitand the long journey towards oblivion."~ D. H. Lawrence ~My last post, "Daffodils of Autumn" featured two seasonal songs by Adrian Henri, both dedicated to his predecessor A. E. Houseman (click or scroll down). Yet another of Henri's autumnal poems is dedicated to modernist poet and novelist D. H. Lawrence. Henri offers an "Epilogue" to Lawrence's long

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-43536529414953858272011-11-14T02:07:00.023-05:002011-11-20T18:40:01.535-05:00

Detail of Daffodil Tiffany LampTonight at noon . . .The first daffodils of autumn will appearWhen the leaves fall upwards to the trees~ Adrian Henri ~Liverpool poet Adrian Henri (1932 - 2000), master of literary allusion and intertextuality, has written a couple of poems in response to earlier selections from A Shropshire Lad by modern British poet A. E. Houseman (1859 - 1936). The rhythmic

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-58735678135982074582011-10-28T14:38:00.005-04:002011-11-04T08:34:08.961-04:00

AFTERGLOW(L) & GLOWING SUNSET (R)Both by Scottish Landscape Artist, Joseph Farquharson, 1846 - 1935This past Sunday, I attended a choral evensong, one of my favorite autumn traditions. The service closed with the lovely hymn "The Day Thou Gavest," and the words and music of this evensong standard have been playing in my head ever since. You might also be familiar with the tune from Rick

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-60325245819045032942011-10-14T08:13:00.013-04:002011-10-28T13:20:40.222-04:00

Fairies and Elves Pick Applesby English Illustrator Arthur Rackham, 1867 - 1939An autumnal sense of resignation permeates the following poem by Robert Frost. I like the way that he is "done with apple - picking now" not because the job is entirely finished -- since, in fact, it's not: "there's a barrel that I didn't fill" and "may be two or three / Apples I didn't pick" -- but because he has

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-53695464917482545702011-09-28T00:05:00.019-04:002011-10-26T11:50:31.196-04:00

Dryham Park (below; and Badminton House, above) ~two of the houses used as filming locations for the movieThe Remains of the Day" 'I was so fond of that view from the second-floor bedrooms overlooking the lawn with the downs visible in the distance. Is it still like that? On summer evenings there was a sort of magical quality to that view and I will confess to you now I used to waste many

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-76972433117639761322011-09-14T10:04:00.022-04:002011-09-26T19:06:10.099-04:00

A few months ago, I had the good fortune to reconnect on facebook with one of my former professors, Dr. Herman P. Wilson. Back in the 70s, I was enrolled in several of Herman's classes, such as History of the English Language and Structural English Grammar, as well as some graduate reading seminars in Charles Dickens, Thomas Hardy, and D. H. Lawrence.Upon learning what I had been doing since my

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-63461764679596999452011-08-28T01:26:00.033-04:002011-09-11T08:10:30.808-04:00

Ferry Cross the Mersey by John Haslamas seen in the Crosby HeraldFerry Cross the Mersey(click to hear tune)Life goes on day after dayHearts torn in every waySo ferry cross the Mersey'Cause this land's the place I loveAnd here I'll stayPeople they rush everywhereEach with their own secret careSo ferry cross the MerseyAnd always take me thereThe place I lovePeople around every cornerThey seem to

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-56557479714704721982011-08-14T16:40:00.032-04:002011-08-19T10:36:13.354-04:00

Look at Josef (above)! Such a little genius! One snowy afternoon in December 2000, Ben, Sam, and their friends Sarah and Ethan, decorated this box for him and stuck him inside (just above his head, you can see that it says "Josef's House"). How did he know precisely where to step? Right in the paw prints that they had drawn for him! Taken during the same snowfall, December 2000 Josef appears to

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-7840849923403824242011-07-28T00:11:00.022-04:002011-08-09T09:11:49.034-04:00

The picture below, of Sam polishing the kitchen tiles was taken on the day we moved in, pre-figuring the above photograph of Ben, taken three years later when we moved out. For today, I have pulled together yet another moving day blog post, this time featuring a poem by my son Sam, written back in 2007, when he was a freshman in high school. At the time, I thought he did very well, and I still

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-60463419586910068682011-07-14T00:34:00.011-04:002011-07-27T09:54:47.983-04:00

I am dedicating this blog post to my wonderful neighborsMia ~ Zoe ~ Beawho are boxing up and packing and moving away this summerAu revoir mes amies!*******************************Away went our little family, like rats leaping off the burning ship. It hurt to think about everything at once: our friends, our desert, old home, new home. We felt giddy and tragic as we pulled up at a little gas-and-go

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-68496406209704232992011-06-28T00:27:00.028-04:002011-11-28T03:42:17.302-05:00

Another character who lives and dies by the nose:Cyrano de BergeracA couple of weeks ago, on my Quotidian page, I posted the following long poem, which my nearest and dearest (and perhaps a few of my former students) will recognize as a long - time favorite of mine.For those who have not read it before, here is one of the best parables I have ever encountered on the topic of sacrifice and the

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-20743514357573821232011-06-14T22:01:00.020-04:002011-06-22T08:14:04.826-04:00

Two special days this week:Tuesday, June 14th: Flag Day, since way back in 1777 (officially established in 1916). Thursday, June 16th: Bloomsday, ever since 1922, (officially established in 1954). My maternal grandmother, Rovilla Heidemann Lindsey, died forty - five years ago today, on Flag Day in 1966. That year, like this year, June 14 fell on a Tuesday; and Grandma Lindsey's funeral service

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-25142192967951510622011-05-28T00:28:00.030-04:002011-08-21T14:54:51.507-04:00

In keeping with my recent hair-stories, Gerry picked this birthday card for me (and carefully added the glasses by hand). Cute! Also arriving on my birthday was this little hair-story: Tight Perm: If you get a tight enough perm, she told me, it's almost as good as a face lift. But she had worked around a lot of toxic chemicals in the 60's, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. by Brian

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-37626249312921362032011-05-14T11:07:00.035-04:002011-12-03T21:12:42.265-05:00

Gathering Electrons:This hair gathers electrons from the atmosphere & uses it to perpetuate new ideas abouthair's role in the historyof civilization.by Brian Andreas . . ."telling people about a better way of seeing."Go to the StoryPeople website and you'll notice that an appreciative reader named Becky has nearly taken the words right out of my mouth:"This must have been written by someone who

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-10372038396339712482011-04-28T01:19:00.023-04:002011-05-01T01:17:45.480-04:00

Everybody's Got a Hungry HeartPortobello Mushrooms in the Brattleboro Food Co-Op Photo by Leif K-BrooksThanks to the miracle of the internet and google search, I recently had the good fortune to encounter the work of contemporary poet Catharine Brosman and to "meet" her via e-mail. I had been experimenting with my camera, a pound of Brussels sprouts, and a few leeks, and was so pleased with my

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-9795474889942015082011-04-13T00:07:00.007-04:002011-04-20T12:14:29.694-04:00

Lunch Friends: Dagmar, Kitti, Katy, Cathy(My Birthday Last Year)I'm posting a day early this time ~ on the 13th instead of the 14th ~ because my friend Dagmar was born on April 13th, 1959, and today would have been her 52nd birthday. Another friend ~ www.jandonley.com ~ also born in April and often mentioned on my blogs, sent a link to the following poem the other day on facebook. Jan wasn't

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-14618569841872936682011-03-28T08:30:00.009-04:002011-03-29T10:51:59.216-04:00

"Transformed by a magic stopping of the sun."~ Czeslaw Milosz ~Esse I was left behind with the immensity of existing things. A sponge, suffering because it cannot saturate itself; a river, suffering because reflections of clouds and trees are not clouds and trees.Due to my usual seemingly (but not so!) distracted fashion of spreading and scattering reading material upon every available visible

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-15156833611697043632011-03-14T00:13:00.011-04:002011-03-14T01:24:31.611-04:00

Little Ben with the Matryoshka Collection, 1997A couple of months ago, my friend Gabrielle left a couple of mysterious facebook messages. First, there was:Did you know that your brain contains atoms that were once part of Albert Einstein?Then a couple of days later:I just want to let all of you guys that you're leftover stardust! I love you guys! So go be an amazing leftover star!After that one,

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-31246179437538873292011-02-28T00:13:00.038-05:002011-03-14T00:52:03.144-04:00

You probably don't need me or Wikipedia to tell you that Grant Wood's American Gothic "is one of the most familiar images in 20th century American art, and one of the most parodied artworks within American popular culture. . . . one of the most reproduced – and parodied – images ever. Many artists have replaced the two people with other known couples and replaced the house with well known houses.

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-9115509571948345822011-02-14T00:22:00.023-05:002011-02-17T09:24:08.488-05:00

"Look around you, look up hereTake time to make time, make time to be thereLook around, be a partFeel for the winter, but don't have a cold heart"lyrics from "Lady"by The Little River Band**************************************I first discovered the poems of Naomi Shihab back in 1975, in a publication called Power: Personal Reflections by Youth for Youth. My friends and I enjoyed subscribing to

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-36712005464170594922011-01-28T08:57:00.015-05:002011-01-31T08:42:48.022-05:00

Orpheus Leading Eurydice from the Underworld, 1861by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot (1796 - 1875)French Landscape Painter[Here and above: the Legendary Orpheus, greatest musician of Greek mythology, and his wife Eurydice, who died young but was granted leave by Hades, god of the Underworld, to return from the dead, upon the condition that Orpheus, who had descended to claim her, should walk in front

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-84673974807177022502011-01-14T17:34:00.009-05:002011-04-18T23:41:50.671-04:00

Presents From A Friend!"But while we often like to comfort or flatter ourselves with the thought that the future is now, the brute truth is, the future is not now. The present is now. The future is later -- in some cases much later."quotation from the humorous little book,Santa Lives! Five Conclusive Arguments for the Existence of Santa Clausby wry humorist Elllis Weiner (b 1950)Coauthor of

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-54527572101389143762010-12-28T08:52:00.008-05:002011-01-13T16:25:57.936-05:00

Though it is not a holiday piece, there is something about the following story -- maybe it's the foggy weather or the gathering of friends -- that always brings New Year's Eve to mind. Like the Tennessee Williams poem ("The Summer Belvedere") that I posted a few weeks ago, this story by William Saroyan is not easy to locate, so I'll use this fortnight's blog post to pass it on to you."The Faraway

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-55487049574279301302010-12-14T09:02:00.020-05:002010-12-15T12:12:13.994-05:00

The Lanterns, Filled With SnowAccording to the calendar, it's still autumn; but judging by six inches of snow on the ground, it's definitely winter. I like the way my friend Olynn describes it on her recent facebook post: "One week till first day of winter!! Yea!! Love first day of winter cause as soon as it gets here days start getting longer. Hate first day of summer cause when you are finally

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-71185383456300629592010-11-28T14:48:00.084-05:002011-07-09T14:29:22.101-04:00

As you may have heard me say before, my inspiration for designing this blog came from two writers: Goethe, who hopes that each day might include a song, a poem, some fine art, a few wise words; and Yeats who describes "a house where all's accustomed, ceremonious." This poem, particularly the closing, has been a favorite of mine for many years, decades:Prayer For My DaughterConsidering that, all

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-70587104498772240282010-11-18T19:14:00.007-05:002010-11-27T21:07:40.127-05:00

HEXITThis and all owls below byAmerican Artist Charley HarperA list of my "Old Favorites From Way Back" (posted last month on Kitti's List) includes I Heard the Owl Call My Name (by Canadian writer Margaret Craven, 1901 - 1980). This is the story of a terminally ill young vicar, Mark Brian, who spends the last year of his life serving the residents of a remote North American Indian village and

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-72701440988548500002010-10-28T08:30:00.000-04:002010-11-07T08:35:46.366-05:00

Isabella and the Pot of Basil, 1846 by English Pre-Raphaelite, William Holman Hunt (1827 - 1910)Stanzas #32 and #53 from Isabella, or the Pot of Basilby John Keats, English Romantic Poet (1795 - 1821)In the mid days of autumn, on their evesThe breath of Winter comes from far away, And the sick west continually bereaves Of some gold tinge, and plays a roundelay Of death among the bushes and the

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-38392184585536809812010-10-14T04:51:00.003-04:002011-08-11T11:32:39.638-04:00

" . . . GOLDEN AND GREEN LEAVES LITTER THE LAWN TODAY THAT YESTERDAY HAD SPREAD ALOFT THEIR FLUTTERING FANS OF LIGHT." ~~ HOWARD NEMEROV ~~ Golden paintings, here and above, by Leonard Orr Artist Leonard Orr says: "None of my paintings are titled; most can also be hung in any orientation (there is no top or bottom, left or right; I paint turning the painting again and again, holding it up

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-56133208675699036622010-09-28T08:45:00.000-04:002010-11-19T16:30:28.648-05:00

"Childhood has no forebodings; but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow." quotation from The Mill on the Floss, by English novelistGeorge Eliot (aka Mary Ann Evans, 1819 - 1880) [click to enlarge collage from my clip-art phase, 1977]Not long ago, some of my friends and family were having an ongoing facebook chat about the price of experience and the merit of scars -- what

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-76149377036893658672010-09-14T08:24:00.003-04:002011-03-15T04:35:37.287-04:00

See the Little Flag in the Window? ~ November 2001Back in 2003, on the second anniversary of 9 / 11, French high wire artist, Philippe Petit (b. 1949), wrote a sad and beautiful tribute, "My Towers, Our Towers," in which he tells the story of his daring high-wire walk between the Twin Towers, on the morning of August 7, 1974, when high above the ground he crossed eight (8!) times between the two

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-10359710377328785112010-08-28T09:47:00.001-04:002010-08-31T22:53:44.084-04:00

No doubt in the last year or so, you've been subjected to way too many get - to - know you quizzes on e-mail and facebook. They can be silly, but also mildly entertaining. Talking and listening to them, is probably a better way to get to know folks, but occasionally the quizzes are informative, especially if you care to learn various odd facts about your friends and acquaintances . . . such as:

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-1954824268696696422010-08-14T07:55:00.001-04:002010-08-16T14:21:50.173-04:00

"The sky sings in blue . . . The earth sings in greens"Morning is glad on the hills.The sky sings in blue tones.Little blue fleursare early blooming now.I do so like blue.It is glad everywhere.When I grow upI am going to write a bookabout the glad of blues.The earth sings in greens. . . .The clouds go slow across the sky.No one seems to be in a hurry.Even the wind walks slow.I think the wind is

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-34881302130036367932010-07-28T10:31:00.001-04:002010-07-28T10:45:14.670-04:00

Here is the Little DoorLift up the latch; O lift!We need not wander more, but enter with our gift . . . "~ Chesterton"Strive to enter through the narrow door: for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able." ~ Luke 13: 22[L: The Cutest Playhousein all of Philadelphia!]There are numerous symbolic doors in literature: opening, closing, revolving, inviting, forbidding, remaining locked

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-69563315412477240502010-07-14T03:03:00.004-04:002012-01-31T09:19:37.152-05:00

"Girl With Red Balloon: There is Always Hope"By contemporary British graffiti artist, Banksy.]" . . . in a time lacking in truth and certainty and filled with anguish and despair, no woman should be shamefaced in attempting to give back to the world, through her work, a portion of its lost heart." ~Louise Bogan, 1897 - 1970Poet Laureate of the United States, 1945-46When my heart is aching for the

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-52724434314967206602010-06-27T21:54:00.001-04:002010-08-24T00:59:12.100-04:00

"Hey, Summertime!" What is it about butterflies? We can't seem to resist chasing, catching, collecting, displaying, even planting flowers especially to attract them. A number of butterfly images still linger in my mind from childhood, particularly the mid - 60s Coca Cola song and television ad in which a carefree girl swings on a rope way out over the edge of a creek:"Birds and bees and all the

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-83780366090808082712010-06-14T09:12:00.001-04:002010-06-16T15:32:49.880-04:00

"Who is it that can tell me who I am?" ~King Lear Favorite Museum: The Lady Lever Art Gallery Port Sunlight, Merseyside, EnglandGerry and Ben at the Lady Lever, Ten Years AgoThe names alone are enough to take one's breath away: Cordelia's Portion, Lady Lever, Port Sunlight! Port Sunlight is one of the most charming towns in all of England, a nearly perfect early twentieth century model village.

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-11834806831274485752010-05-28T08:33:00.001-04:002010-05-28T22:11:13.720-04:00

"Is love rice in a jar, no need to give back an egg?"I really liked The Joy Luck Club; then I liked The Kitchen God's Wife even more; and The Hundred Secret Senses even more than that. Good Better Best. (The Bonesetter's Daughter, not so much; but that's okay.) In all these novels, Amy Tan has created so many moments of pure magic, you might find it difficult to choose a favorite, but for me it's

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-49469090145609899632010-05-14T09:07:00.002-04:002011-03-15T04:50:03.810-04:00

Looking for the perfect childhood? You can almost find it here,on this beautiful street in Philadelphia.."Wow . . . When did this happen? You're like a little gnome to me now."You may have seen this picture last month, when I devoted my book blog to "Catching Up On Anne Lamott." Here it is one more time, a current photo of my sons towering over with me, captioned with Sam Lamott's sweet "little

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"Flash your Batsign over Lime Street" ~Adrian Henri Elephants at Lime Street Station, Liverpool "Holy Historical Circus Parade, Batman!" Everywhere I went the other day, I kept hearing "We all live in a yellow submarine." It was playing on the IPOD as we were driving to the Sunrise Diner for breakfast; and a few minutes later, it was playing on the restaurant sound system as we placed our order.

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The Garden of the Hesperidespainting by Lord Frederick Leighton (1830 - 96)O Taste and Seeby Denise Levertov (1923 - 1997)British-born American PoetThe world isnot with us enoughO taste and see the subway Bible poster said,meaning The Lord, meaningif anything all that livesto the imagination’s tongue, grief, mercy, language,tangerine, weather, tobreathe them, bite,savor, chew, swallow, transform

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One Art by Elizabeth Bishop (1911 – 1979)Poet Laureate of the United States, 1949 to 1950Pulitzer Prize Winner, 1956 The art of losing isn't hard to master;so many things seem filled with the intentto be lost that their loss is no disaster.Lose something every day. Accept the flusterof lost door keys, the hour badly spent.The art of losing isn't hard to master.Then practice losing farther, losing

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The fresco, "Zachariah in the Temple" (1486 - 1490) by Domenico Ghirlandaio (1486-1490)Italian Renaissance painterDetail: Marsilio Ficino, Cristoforo Landino, Angelo Poliziano, Demetrios ChalkondylesLocation of fresco: The Tornabuoni Chapel in Santa Maria Novella Church, Florence, ItalyBack when I was an undergrad in a class called Major Trends, I was given the assignment to pick a significant

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"IN this Æglogue two shepheards boyes taking occasion of the season, beginne to make purpose of loue and other pleasaunce, which to springtime is most agreeable. The speciall meaning hereof is, to giue certaine markes and tokens, to know Cupide the Poets God of Loue. But more particularlye I thinke, in the person of Thomalin is meant some secrete freend, who scorned Loue and his knights so long,

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YEAR OF THE TIGER STAMPS: HONG KONG, 1998At an art exhibit many years ago, I saw a wooden sculpture of a cat sitting atop a metal climbing frame, entitled "Little Tiger in the House." How I would love to see that again, but I don't know where to find it or who the sculptor was. How could I have neglected to write that name down?Two of my own Little Tigers in the House Josef (left, in 1993) & Pine

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"Homeward" from One EveningJanuary: rainy one day, snowy the next; sometimes both on the same day. For a delightful depiction of the changeable wintry weather, take a look at this trio of simply beautiful picture books, filled with succinct, sensory, haiku - like text by Canna Funakoshi, and vivid, magical collage - like illustrations by Yohji Izawa:One Morning (1985)Winner: First Prize for

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"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." Hebrews 13:2A couple of months ago, on this blog, I listed a few of the illuminating observations that appear in Emerson's essay, "Experience, including one of my favorites: There is an optical illusion about every person we meet. . . . I had fancied that the value of life lay in its inscrutable

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"And now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been." --Rainer Maria RilkeWhy is it that the world seems to spin a bit faster with every passing year? At midnight on Halloween, I crossed my fingers in hopes of some magic that would make the calendar still say "October" when I turned the page over. The golden days had flown by so quickly, I could have used another go at the

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British philosopher, Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) co-authored Principia Mathematica (published 1910 - 1913), wrote A History of Western Philosophy (1945), and won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1950. At age 84, Russell added a a prologue entitled What I Have Lived For to his autobiography.Some excerpts:"Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for

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Josef In The Windowsill: So Placid and Self - Contained! (Same Window, Same Ginkgo Branch; Summer 1994)In The Little Book of Letting Go, Hugh Prather questions why we wear the seams of our socks against the skin, so that they look smooth on the outside but feel bad on the inside. Wouldn't inside out make more sense? Interior vs Exterior. Circumstances vs State of Mind. Which matters more? Prather

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Stained Glass Windows in Wells Cathedral, EnglandRalph Waldo Emerson's essay, "Experience" (written in 1844) is full of great observations:"The years teach much which the days never know.""From the mountain you see the mountain." "Five minutes of today are worth as much to me, as five minutes in the next millennium.""Let us treat the men and women well: treat them as if they were real: perhaps

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Halloween HaikuSuch little stepsIn love of candyKnocking at my door! by student,Patrick McDonoughCommunity College of PhiladelphiaFall 1997[Okay, forgive me. Here's some literary criticism.]In the Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, French critic Julia Kristeva says that apocalyptic laughter is neither jovial nor joyful: " . . . laughter bursts out, facing abjection, and always originating

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From My Little Blue Story Book, 1953It's that neighborhood time of year again, as anyone who was raised on Little Red, Blue, and Green Story Books can tell you. For some it may have been Dick, Jane, and Sally; for others it was Tom, Betty, and Susan. You know who I mean! And you know who you are! Can we ever really forget that mesmerizing presentation of the post - World War II American Dream?

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Ceremonious Marcus, A Cat Of Amazing WhiskersIf you have the Agnes Browne soundtrack, today would be a good day to set your CD player to "repeat" and listen to Laura Smith's sad, sad version of "My Bonnie," over and over again (as in over the ocean, over the sea). It is so perfect for this time of year when the mornings are cold and yellow leaves drift down onto the driveway, one or two at a time

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"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture and, if possible, speak a few reasonable words." Back in February, when I clicked on "Create Blog," I picked this self - explanatory comment from Goethe to appear continuously as part of the header above. At the start I didn't think to explicate it any further, but now that my literary blog is six months

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"Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? -- every, every minute?" This is the question Emily Webb asks in Thornton Wilder's play, Our Town, when she comes back from the underworld to visit Grover's Corners and sees that all the living people are too busy about the minutiae of the day even to make eye contact with the loved ones right around them.I chose Emily's question as the

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-18915319219572660842009-08-14T09:22:00.001-04:002010-03-26T09:07:43.725-04:00

Above: These 3 buildings at the Pier Head on the Mersey River are called the "Three Graces" of Liverpool. Look closely (above & left)for the mythical Liver Birds atop the Liver Building. As legend goes, these symbolic birds once haunted the local shoreline, guarding the waterfront and awaiting the safe return of seafarers.(Pronunciation quirk: "Liver" rhymes with "diver" -- not with "giver" as

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NEIGHBORHOOD POOL"Summer afternoon - summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language." --Henry JamesAnd those most be nineteen of the most beautiful words that Henry James ever wrote. If you ask me, what is one of the most beautiful things to do on a sunny summer afternoon? Why, go to the pool, of course! A hidden gem of our neighborhood, the

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In 1976, seven years before he died, my Grandpa Paul Lindsey, wrote an autobiographical essay entitled “A Look at Caney, Kansas: What I Saw From the Wagon Seat as a Child.” He begins with a description of his mother’s perseverance: “My mother, like all those dear old souls who settled this country, could have lived on a rock. I mean, you could not have starved them. They believed they were

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Left:Samuel Gordon Lindsey, my grandfather's brother, in 1913; age 20.In 1888 my great-grandparents moved from Illinois to settle a homestead in Nebraska. By 1893, they had erected not a one-room but, proudly, a two-room home on the prairie, where my great-grandmother Sally (Sarah Elisabeth Hartman Lindsey) sat one summer day writing a long letter to her niece, enchantingly named Eyrie. What I

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"Sometimes a mannequin's blue summer dress can make the window like a dream . . . " (iphoto created by Karen Shen)Yearning for an off-beat summer movie? Watch Francis Ford's Coppola's dreamy, magical, musical One From The Heart. Teri Garr portrays a heroine who works after hours, wistfully dressing the storefront mannequins to the pensive strains of "Old Boyfriends" (below). What is it about

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The works of Joyce Maynard entered my life a couple of years ago through one of those uncanny paths of literary coincidence, shaping themselves before my eyes into a fortuitously designed mini - course: "The Life of Joyce Maynard & Family." The path began in May 2007 when I finally read Catcher in the Rye for the first time in my life, something I probably should done twenty - five years earlier,

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Above: Yes, there are still those who trundle to the speed of a different wheel! As Ghandi said, "There is more to life than increasing its speed." Left: Here we are heading off to college in our Dodge Dart. Now, just exactly what color is this car? Forest Green, Jungle Green, Pine Green? Tropical Rain Forest? Maybe Asparagus or Fern. Before the Burnt Sienna Omni, there was the Dart (

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Here I am sitting atop my first car, a 1979 Dodge Omni that I purchased while in grad school. It was a stupid little car, probably not very safe, though trustworthy enough. It really didn't have any special qualities to recommend it, but one thing that I grew to appreciate was the paint job--that goofy two-tone, bronze on the top brown on the bottom, that Dodge used for several years on some of

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HOPE OF A NATIONWhen I was a small girl, this picture, "The Hope of a Nation," hung on the wall in my grandparents' living room. I would stand before it mesmerized by mystery. Where was this place? Where was the river flowing? Where did it end? Then one day, I heard the grown-ups singing the equally (to me) mysterious final stanza of "Battle Hymn of the Republic": "In the beauty of the

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MISSOURI POETSYet another uncanny literary coincidence played itself out last month when I was looking through my old notebooks to see what inspiration I might find there. I came across a letter I had saved from my undergrad (1975 - 1979) professor Jim Barnes (who is now Poet Laureate of Oklahoma). In this note from 2003, he mentions the retirement of Jim Thomas, another professor and poet from

Kitti Carrikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02673202543914324582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7640718734020131313.post-28556590313281644062009-03-26T09:07:00.001-04:002011-03-06T13:45:10.424-05:00

To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it, to conceive no time, however distant, but what you may reach it and pass it, to look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you, however long but it stretches and waits for you. -- Walt WhitmanWhen my friend Catherine flew out to visit me a few years ago, she spent her time on the plane reading Anne Lamott's Plan B: Further

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My dad worked at Rocketdyne from 1962 - 1967, writing systems & procedures manuals in the Quality Control department. Neosho is a small town in southwest Missouri, where I went to school K - 4th. This picture was taken when we went back to visit in 2002. For me, nothing tops those moments when Life offers its own theme to a strand of apparently accidental events, and everything hangs together

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An excellent motto, one of my lifelong favorites: "Some haystacks don't even have any needle." But some friends I mentioned it to recently immediately objected to my choice, finding it "utterly depressing." I was confused! This is a hopeful little poem, full of optimism. But no matter how I defended it, my audience just couldn't see how. They said, "Searching and searching forever and never

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THE LIMBS OF THE PIN OAK:"Gravity -- what's that?"--short poem by William StaffordTHE MIGHTY OAKWhen we first moved here, we hired a tree trimmer to assess the entire yard, which was a mess. We observed that the original owners who planted that oak tree as a nice finishing touch to their front yard a hundred years ago probably never envisioned that it would flourish to the point of one day nearly

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