Poetry in Limestone & Steel

WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

"East Side, West Side,
all around the town . . .
We tripped the light fantastic
on the sidewalks of New York . . . "
Hard to believe that it has been over a month since our holiday visit to New York City, including such highlights as Lessons and Carols at St. Thomas Church, Star Wars: The Force Awakens at the Imax on 34th Street, and Christmas Dinner at the Algonquin. I think the trick to enjoying some of the classic attractions might be to come earlier in the season -- perhaps right after Thanksgiving; or later in the seaon -- like shortly after New Year's. During our stay (22 - 26 December), the crowds were just too intense to get a good look at the department store window displays or the skaters at Rockefeller Center. I'm usually one to relish an urban scene, but the human density was over my limit.

I was lucky to get a more user - friendly, twenty - four hour reprise in late January. While it was a little too late in the season for all the highlights and festivities, there were still lots of ice - skaters, twinkle lights, wreaths, and even trees (not all were tossed out on the Twelfth Day of Christmas!) to lift the spirits There was no shortage of action but still room to breathe. The weather was also more seasonable this time, with remnants of last week's snow strewn about, rather than the pouring rains and oddly balmy near - 70 degree temps of Christmas week.

You can see a bit of snow here in Madison Square Park, where I stopped by to admire the World War I Memorial and the Flatiron Building . . .

. . . of which Mark Twain once wrote: "I was thinking of securing this as a winter residence, but had to give up the idea, because the rent was higher than the house."

Twain also referred to the Flatiron Building as a way of understanding British humor: " 'The English don't deserve their reputation,' insisted Mr. Clemens. 'They are as humorous a nation as any in the world. Only humor, to be comprehensible to anybody, must be built upon a foundation with which he is familiar. If he can't see the foundation the superstructure is to him merely a freak - like the Flatiron building without any visible means of support - something that ought to be arrested.' "

from The New York Times, November 26, 1905
Contemporary writer April Lindner (YA novelist) calls the Flatiron "poetry in limestone." It is easy to see the poetics of the Flatiron Building as well as the Empire State and the Chrysler. Coincidentally, here are a couple of stirring passages describing both of these landmarks in terms of their poetic beauty:

The Empire State Building at Christmas

"I was pleasantly surprised to find the Empire Building so poetical. . . . passionate skill, arduous and fearless idealism. The tallest building is a victory of imagination. . . .

"What did I 'see and hear' from the Empire Tower? As I stood there 'twixt earth and sky, I saw a a romantic structure wrought by human brains and hands that is to the burning eye of the sun a rival luminary. I saw it stand erect and serene in the midst of storm and the tumult of elemental commotion. I heard the hammer of Thor ring when the shaft began to rise upward. I saw the unconquerable steel, the flash of testing flames, the sword-like rivets. I heard the steam drills in pandemonium. I saw countless skilled workers welding together that mighty symmetry. I looked upon the marvel of frail, yet indomitable hands that lifted the tower to its dominating height.

"Let cynics and supersensitive souls say what they will about American materialism and machine civilization. Beneath the surface are poetry, mysticism and inspiration that the Empire Building somehow symbolizes. In that giant shaft I see a groping toward beauty and spiritual vision. I am one of those who see and yet believe."

Helen Keller, January 1932

Grand Central Station & The Chrysler Building

"New York's most glorious skyscraper, its art deco eagles poised for flight, is a timeless work of Jazz Age poetry in steel. . . . Architects, who have both intuition and training on their side, have some very good reasons for loving the Chrysler Building. The rest of us love it beyond reason, for its streamlined majesty and its inherent sense of optimism and promise for the future, but mostly for its shimmery, welcoming beauty — a beauty that speaks of humor and elegance in equal measure . . . How can a mere building make so many people so happy . . . You could also look at [the] erection of that spire in November 1929, less than a month after the stock market took its horrifying plummet, as a brashly hopeful gesture.

"Looking at the Chrysler Building now, though, it’s hard to argue against its stylish ebullience, or its special brand of sophisticated cheerfulness. . . . I love looking up at the Chrysler Building from somewhere close to its base — to see the way its glistening silver decorations, including ornaments shaped like radiator caps, seemingly appear out of nowhere against the building’s simple white expanse. And beyond those radiator caps, beyond the ready-for-flight eagles, the crown is the most glorious decoration of all. Against the newly altered New York skyline, the glow of that crown seems more hopeful than ever. Eternally poised for takeoff, the Chrysler Building is always pointed toward the future. It’s a building that never looks back."

Stephanie Zacharek, February 2002

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Sunday, February 14th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT ~ "Sunrise, Sunset"
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my running list of recent reading
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And Enjoy More NYC Photos

Perfect Twins: Going Out, Coming In

ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Delilah Pierce: Twins, 1952

As I've mentioned before on my Quotidian blog,
I love it when Barbra Streisand sings:

Everything
I want to learn what life is for
I don’t want much, I just want more
Ask what I want and I will sing
I want everything (everything) . . .

I’d like to have the perfect twin
One who’d go out as I came in
I’ve got to grab the big brass ring
So I’ll have everything (everything) . . .
written by Randy Scruggs & Nikki Williams
sung by Barbra Streisand
The fact is, I do have the perfect twin, perfect in his own way. Yet, like Streisand, I've often wished for a doppelganger, a double - goer, making it possible for me to work twice as hard and play twice as long and never sleep and stay caught up with all y chores and tasks and goals and plans and expectations. One who'd go out when I came in!

Entirely without meaning to -- and not just because I'm a Gemini! -- that's what I began to see last month when I visited The Maryland Artist Collection in the University of Maryland University College Inn and Conference Center. As I glanced around the UMUC Art Gallery, twins and doubles were everywhere I looked. It's not as if the exhibit was billed as one of twinned images and double - goers; it was just an amazing coincidence!

And a timely coincidence to contemplate in January, the month of double vision! Inadvertently, these artworks invoke Janus, the Roman god of doors, choices, beginnings and endings, with two faces, one facing forwards and one facing backwards, representing time, looking into the past with one face and into the future with the other (Click For More). Could that be what lies behind the mesmerizing tendency of each of these artists to double up? Take a look:

Twin Portraits

Twin Models

Megan O'Brien: Contours and Elevations, 1995

Twin Photographs

Linda Harrison - Parsons, Tarnished Memories, 1994

Twin Jokers

Kay McCrohan: Nobody's Fool, 1997

Twin Skeletons

Gordon Fluke: Cherry Ames, Red Cross Nurse, 1994

Twin Vases

Susan Goldman: Explosion, 1998

Twin Lanterns

Gladys Goldstein: Day Lantern, not dated

Twin Artists

Herman Maril: Duet, 1973

Twin Boats

Herman Maril: Sunday at the Docks, 1938

Twin Chairs

Herman Maril: Kitchen, 1976; Vase and Lilies, 1970

Twin Trees

Delilah Pierce: Great Giants, 1974; Giant Nature's Splendor, 1982

And the best thing about my day at this exhibit?
Being able to enjoy it with my sister and her family:
Triplets: Dan, Brit, Peg!

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Thursday, January 28th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT ~ Delilah Williams Pierce
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
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my running list of recent reading
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Follow - Up ~ December 2016

Medellin, Colombia

A Story About a Snowman

WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

"I remember that winter because it had brought the heaviest snow that I had ever seen. Snow had fallen steadily all night long, and in the morning I woke in a room filled with light and silence. The whole world seemed to be held in a dream-like stillness. It was a magical day, and it was on that day I made the snowman."

Opening narration from The Snowman ~ animated movie*
based on the book by Raymond Briggs ~ music by Howard Blake

The building of this snowman by Ben and Sam in early December 2002 began with one of the best things that can happen when you're in 4th grade (Sam) or 7th grade (Ben) -- an unexpected snow day! First of all came the cocoa and marshmallows, calling friends and making plans. Next thing you know, the doorbell rang to announce the timely arrival of a package from my sister Peg. I emailed her right away to let her know that her present to the boys had been safely delivered and placed under the tree. She emailed right back to say, "No, don't wait 'til Christmas; let them open it now."

What an excellent coincidence! Inside the gift box was a Lands' End snowman building kit, including all the accessories that you can see here in the picture: eyes, nose, pipe, scarf, buttons. As soon as our snowy gentleman was built and properly outfitted, it was time for a photo session. These were the early days of digital photography for our family; and how fun it was to be able to email Auntie Peg a picture of the completed snowman so she could see how her gift had been put to immediate use!

Such a charming sequence of events: the day off from school, the UPS man, the emails back and forth to Peg, the boys running outside right away, and within the hour a photo of their completed creation to send as an electronic thank - you, closing the circle that had begun only a few days earlier with my sister picking out clever winter presents and placing orders. After all these years, that happy morning still plays like a little movie in my head, a memory to re-visit once a year, hoping for a snow day.

Photographs by Ben McCartney, 2002
In our tiny, walled back garden,
downtown Philadelphia

Peg bought the same snowman building kit
for her sons Jerrod & Daniel;
assembled during the same snow season, in Maryland
SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Thursday, January 14th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT ~ Christmas Shomily
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
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Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST ~ "Would you like anything to read?"
my running list of recent reading
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*If you like the book / movie, you'll love the puffy "Snowman"

A Story About a Tree

A HOUSE WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Twenty - second Incarnation of the Kmart Tree
Still Going Strong After 20 Years!

2014 ~ Treetop Detail
Bertie Bassett ~ The Liquorice Allsorts Man

A Couple of Connections:

First, thanks to my friend Nikki for sharing with me this fabulous book from her family's collection:

Flair Annual 1953
And more thanks to Nikki for her kind comments after reading my previous post "Be As Brave As Sharon Olds." I appreciated her observation that "the connections are always good, but what's better is when you tell a story! Tell more stories!"

2. Second, speaking of stories, I read Christmas on Jane Street right after Thanksgiving and was summarizing it over the phone for my son Sam. When I suggested that we could pay a visit to the corner of 8th Avenue and Jane Street to see this famous New York City Christmas Tree Stand, Sam, ever the skeptic, and master of the literary allusion, replied: "Mom, sounds like you've been reading a story about a tree." Haha, Sam!

So, at the risk of being a Buzz Killington, I'm going to take Nikki's advice and tell you a story -- a story about a tree.

The first Christmas that we lived in Philadelphia (1993), it didn't occur to me that we wouldn't do what we had done the year before back in Indiana: go to the nearest grocery store on the day after Thanksgiving and buy a tree right out front, chosen from a large selection of live cut evergreens leaning against the plate glass windows. Surprisingly, it was not to be. We drove out to Pathmark bright and early, but where were the trees? "What trees?" the grocery clerk replied. "We don't sell Christmas trees."

Where then? We tried a nearby produce market; no luck. We returned home to ask some neighbors on the street. Of course, many were out of town for Thanksgiving weekend, yet we gleaned what information we could: one family would be driving to Vermont, or something like that, later in the month to chop down their own tree (over - achievers). Another family claimed they never put up a Christmas tree (Bah, humbug!). I was growing despondent. My sister Peg and her family were driving up from Maryland to visit us in Philadelphia for the first time, and my planned Black Friday activity was tree - decorating. But still no tree.

My husband Gerry had an idea. He remembered seeing a small tree nursery across the street from Kmart, a few miles away, outside the city limits. When Peg and her husband Ron arrived, Gerry and Ron would drive down and see what they could find. They did so; and, what to their wondering eyes should appear but a huge truckload of Christmas trees, stacked and netted, "bound into tight versions of themselves for easy travel," (Romp, 10). Success at last you might think; that was not so hard after all! There was, however, a catch. The nursery personnel did not know the going rate for trees that year. The truck had to be unloaded and each tree receive its price tag before sales to customers could officially begin.

"Are you sure?" Gerry asked. "Just name a price, any price, and we will pay that for the tree." This labor of love had become a full - fledged quest, and he did not want to return home empty - handed. But, no, said the clerk, that would be against the rules. Could they return in a few hours? Okay, it was only a fifteen - minute drive, five miles or so. They would make another trip, later in the day.

The hours passed quickly enough, and off went the woodchoppers on foray number two -- only to find that the manager had not come in that afternoon, the trees had not been tagged, and all purchases must be put on hold until the following day. The trees, plainly visible on the bed of the truck, were not to be had at any price. But these men of action were not to be deterred. Daylight had faded, and the neon lights of Kmart beckoned from across the Baltimore Pike.

Maybe it wasn't like a scene from Norman Rockwell or When Harry Met Sally,



but no tree could have been more anticipated or appreciated than the seven - foot storage box that Gerry and Ron carried through our front door that evening, some assembly required. But never mind, we were proud to place it our front entry and it went up quickly. The following year, we put it on the sleeping porch adjoining Sam (in photo, age 15 months) and Ben's bedrooms because that's where we spent many hours and they could enjoy it most:

1993 ~~~ 1994

When I decided a few years later (1998) that I needed a second tree, my dear husband was ready once again to undertake the mission. This time, no need to try the produce stands or tree nurseries, for I had become a true believer in the decorative attributes of an artificial tree, primarily because they provide so much more strength and versatility when it comes to hanging heavy ornaments and reshaping branches to suit a particular arrangement of baubles. Instead of driving randomly around the Delaware Valley, Gerry did the ground - work by phone and located a Sears at a Mall north of town that claimed to have 9 foot trees in stock. Many of the stores seemed to be topping out at 7 feet, but I already had one of those and was keen to extend the reach of my tree collection. Malls were not typically our scene, but Gerry was game, so away he went in our one - horse open sleigh (i.e., 1995 Oldsmobile Station Wagon) for a jolly expedition of tree procurement.

Was the tree at Sears as promised? Yes, but there was only one and it was already assembled, standing in undecorated glory on the showroom floor; and the packing boxes no longer existed. But if Gerry was willing to go out to the loading dock and scrounge around in the recycling for some large boxes and personally remove and repack each branch, then he was welcome to purchase the tree. Naturally, Clark Griswold style, Gerry was equal to the task. We need a tree? He'll get us a tree! "Fixed the newel post!"

Our usual parking spot was on the side street, but for easier access through the front door with several large boxes, Gerry parked right at the corner. As luck would have it, in the few moments in between multiple trips from car to house, we received a parking ticket! Happy Holidays from the City of Philadelphia! Could the officer not see that this vehicle is stuffed with Christmas decorations that are being removed as quickly as possible? Had he no patience or mercy or humor or Christmas Spirit? No, Virginia, he had not. Bah, humbug!

Not to worry! No one could rain on our parade that day. We put the new nine - footer in the second floor turret window (below left) and the seven - footer in the third floor turret window (below right), covered them both with ornaments -- including this handmade series from our multi - talented neighbors Doris & Denis --

and were very happy with the results:
[Look closely on the right to see Ben (L) and Sam (R)
peeking out from behind the tree!]

I know all about the sentimental premium attached to a live tree, and even better if that live tree has been picked out personally from a tree farm, local or distant, and chopped down with an ax. For me, though, nothing can beat the affection that went into acquiring our two artificial trees. Those memories are with me every year as we drag the boxes out and erect our enduring symbols of light and life and hope and fun.

But wait . . . there's more! At the beginning of Ben's third year of college (2010), he and his friends had a successful day of curbside trash - picking: a bookshelf, a chair, a couple of suitcases, and -- "For you, Mom!" -- a Christmas tree. Ben pulled it into the sunroom, and we put it together right away to make sure that all the pieces were intact. It didn't seem to be a recent student discard but rather a vintage 1987 Fake Douglas Fir, complete with its own original brochure -- like ours, over twenty years old, but still in fine shape, discarded, perhaps, by a family who was reverting to the wild or replacing with a twenty - first century pre - lit model. Once we had it up, it seemed a shame to take it back down, what with the holiday season only three months away, so we decorated it for fall with harvest miniatures and Halloween cookie cutters. At Thanksgiving we changed it over to Christmas and finally put it away sometime shortly after the Valentine Dance:

February 2011

Continued thanks to Ben, Gerry, and Ron for bringing these trees into my life and giving me a story to tell -- a story about trees! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, whether you be regally real or proudly pretend, your green shall ever teach me!

The Big Tree ~~ in 2014 ~~ The Sunroom Tree

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Monday, December 28th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT ~ Fake Trees & Gift Books
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
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Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST ~ "Would you like anything to read?"
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OMG!

WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Genuine religion is not about speculating about God or the soul
or about what happened in the past or will happen in the future;
it cares only about one thing — finding out
exactly what should or should not be done in this lifetime.

*************

It is terrible when people do not know God,
but it is worse when people identify as God what is not God.

Leo Tolstoy
Path of Life or
Calendar of Wisdom, 1909
as translated by M. Cote, 2002

Stretching from All Saints' Day on the 1st to St. Andrew's Day on the 30th, November is a month for honoring all deserving Saints and Souls. It begins and ends with a Holy Day, including some good ones in between, such as Martinmas. It's a month for showing respect to the Living and the Dead, which brings me to the ever - popular topic of taking the name of the Lord in vain, as in The Ten Commandments: "Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain; for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain" (Exodus 20:7 KJV).

It's true that the endless chorus of "oh my god" that passes for expression and dialogue in daily conversation grows tiresome very quickly, not so much because it's disrespectful but because it indicates such a limited vocabulary and lack of imagination -- similar to adults who chew gum visibly in public -- ewww, puh - lease, gag me! "OMG" is no better, yet somehow I find it less annoying -- sort of the way that changing "Kentucky Fried Chicken" to "KFC" made the meal seem a little less greasy.

Is the third commandment merely a rule against saying,"Oh my God" or does it suggest something more substantial than that? In answer to this question, it is helpful to consider that the Bible also says "strive not about words to no profit" 2 Timothy 2:14 (NRSV). So you don't care for your neighbor's choice of slang? Well, here's a simple solution: just turn the other ear.

I've long been inspired by Frederick's comment in the Woody Allen film Hannah and her Sisters:

"If Jesus came back and saw what's going on in his name,
he'd never stop throwing up."
I appreciate this understanding of not taking God's name in vain. I never did believe -- as I was taught in childhood -- that it meant not saying "Gee whiz" or "Goddamnitbullshittohell." What it really means is not ascribing your beliefs to God and doing your own will in God's name.

Contemporary American song writer Ben Folds suggests the same idea in his his song Jesusland:
"Town to town
broadcast to each house, they drop your name
but no one knows your face
Billboards quoting things you'd never say
you hang your head and pray
for Jesusland . . .
crosses flying high above the malls . . ."

Additional thoughts
from a couple of thoughtful Episcopalians:
Ambassador / Senator John Danforth (who, believe it or not, was the speaker at my college graduation): "Moderate Christians are less certain about when and how our beliefs can be translated into statutory form, not because of a lack of faith in God but because of a healthy acknowledgement of the limitations of human beings. Like conservative Christians, we attend church, read the Bible and say our prayers.

"But for us, the only absolute standard of behavior is the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves. Repeatedly in the Gospels, we find that the Love Commandment takes precedence when it conflicts with laws. We struggle to follow that commandment as we face the realities of everyday living, and we do not agree that our responsibility to live as Christians can be codified by legislators.

"When, on television, we see a person in a persistent vegetative state, one who will never recover, we believe that allowing the natural and merciful end to her ordeal is more loving than imposing government power to keep her hooked up to a feeding tube.

"When we see an opportunity to save our neighbors' lives through stem cell research, we believe that it is our duty to pursue that research, and to oppose legislation that would impede us from doing so.

"We think that efforts to haul references of God into the public square, into schools and courthouses, are far more apt to divide Americans than to advance faith.

"Following a Lord who reached out in compassion to all human beings, we oppose amending the Constitution in a way that would humiliate homosexuals.

"For us, living the Love Commandment may be at odds with efforts to encapsulate Christianity in a political agenda. We strongly support the separation of church and state, both because that principle is essential to holding together a diverse country, and because the policies of the state always fall short of the demands of faith. Aware that even our most passionate ventures into politics are efforts to carry the treasure of religion in the earthen vessel of government, we proceed in a spirit of humility . . ."

~ from the essay Onward, Moderate Christian Soldiers ~
The New York Times, 17 June 2005
**************
Bishop John Shelby Spong: “God is not a Christian, God is not a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Hindu, or a Buddhist. All of those are human systems which human beings have created to try to help us walk into the mystery of God. I honor my tradition, I walk through my tradition, but I don't think my tradition defines God, I think it only points me to God.”

**************

And from an English bishop
within the Eastern Orthodox Church
Kallistos Ware: “We see that it is not the task of Christianity to provide easy answers to every question, but to make us progressively aware of a mystery. God is not so much the object of our knowledge as the cause of our wonder.”

~ from his book The Orthodox Way ~

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Monday, December 14th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
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my running list of recent reading
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Longly, Longingly

ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Lady Lavery Banknote

James Joyce Banknote

Why can't the United States of America ever have writers
on our paper money like Ireland and England?
In a novel of so many unforgettable lines and phrases, one passage more than any other stood out for me when I first read Joyce's Ulysses as an undergraduate. It was this:

"A warm shock of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's heart. He raised his eyes and met the stare of a bilious clock. Two. Pub clock five minutes fast. Time going on. Hands moving. Two. Not yet.

His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, yearned more longly longingly.

Wine."~ James Joyce, Ulysses, 172 - 73

The ache in Bloom's midriff brought to mind a few lines from a poem that I had loved back in highschool:

"I felt a soft caving in my stomach
As at the top of the highest slide
When I had been a child, but was not afraid . . ."

~ John Logan, "The Picnic"
So unexpected to encounter in fiction, poetry, or otherwise, such a visceral sensation described so accurately -- and the word longly -- had I ever heard it before? I don't think so. Though I've never fancied myself a poet, Joyce's strong, sad imagery inspired me to attempt my own rendition of heartache in the gut:

The Ache You Wear

You fall into her arms like crying,
feel her lips in your hair,
soothing like a parent
and something else.

Wooden and broken,
you lean rigidly.
Your forehead rests against breasts
which must be like your own.

With each soft motion,
the ache you wear like a brace
begins to melt, drips
slowly down your back.

Like congestion, it seeps inside,
fills the space between every rib,
then tatters into loose bits
that choke upward and sink within you.

Yearning for a familiarity,
you move toward this woman
and this one comfort
after taking leave of him.

For this time you fall away
from any pain.
Thick rags are floating
now in your stomach.

As connection and coincidence would have it, I recently came across the following within just a few months of each other:

1." . . . The feeling
resembles lumps of raw dough

weighing down a child’s stomach on baking day.
Or Rilke said it, ‘My heart. . .
Could I say of it, it overflows
with bitterness . . . but no, as though

its contents were simply balled into
formless lumps, thus
do I carry it about.’ . . . "

~ Denise Levertov, "Life At War"
2. "The pain he had felt in his chest after breakfast was gone: in its place he now had in his middle a curious, dry, empty, swollen feeling. As if he carried something inside him, hollow, but beyond his size and growing bigger."

~ Jessamyn West, Friendly Persuasion, 73
3. "For weeks, thinking of that made me feel like a chute had opened in my stomach and my heart was descending through it."

~ Curtis Sittenfeld, American Wife, 20
4. "This is what I liked about my friends: just sitting around and telling stories. . . . I couldn't help but think about school and everything else ending. I liked standing just outside the couches and watching them -- it was kind of sad I didn't mind, and so I just listened, letting all the happiness and the sadness of this ending swirl around in mine, each sharpening the other. For the longest time, it felt kind of like my chest was cracking open, but not precisely in an unpleasant way."

~ John Green, Paper Towns, 215
5. "They were nowhere near butterflies in the stomach. They were electric bricks. They sunk. They zapped. They made me want to keel over."

~ Heather Kirn Lanier, Teaching in the Terrordome, 37
6. "You wake up and you feel -- what? Heaviness, an ache inside, a weight, yes. A soft crumpling of flesh. A feeling like all the surfaces have been rubbed raw."

~ Carolyn Parkhurst, The Dogs of Babel, (252)
(see Highlights from 2006 & 2007)


7. "But in a few minutes it was back again,
that ugly jagged ache beneath her rib cage."

Suzanne Berne, A Perfect Arrangement, 212

*******************

Not unlike the sunset:
" . . . all the happiness and the sadness of this ending swirl . . . "

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Saturday, November 28th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
~ Longly, Longingly my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com