Hearing the song “A Natural Woman” performed today, made me think of the men I have met over time, beginning with my dad and my grand dad who all in their idiosyncratic way helped me to develop or unlock parts of myself I didn’t knew I had then.
With some of these ‘gifts’ I wasn’t too happy at the time, but looking back over 60 odd years, I can see that even they held a learning for me – propelled me on my way to becoming the woman I am today. So, here the lyrics – be glad that I am not singing LOL – as a tribute to the men who inspire us woman to be the best we can be!
by Leonard Cohen –
I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
by Donovan Leitch
In the chilly hours and minutes
I want to be
In the warm hold of your lovin’ mind.
To feel you all around me
And to take your hand
Along the sand,
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind.
The artist should be sitting under the Platane and create ! And let the wordly people go about their business.
How else are we mere mortals able to sample his beautiful observations once we stop from being busy doing life?
(Irises by Van Gogh, painted 1889 during his stay in the St.Pauls Assylum near St. Remy)
Two days ago I arrived in St. Remy, immediately captured again by the beauty of the Provence, the old buildings, the small streets that barely let the sun in, offering a cool respite from the hot, burning southern sun. There are these tiny little shops offering delicacies of all sorts, beautiful fashion, ceramics, jewellery, and the ever present Provencal pottery and fabrics. And let’s not forget the many little cafees, restaurants, and bars inviting us to come, sit down, slow down, and sample from the wonderful foods and wines of the region.
(I saw this lovely picture on redbubble.com)
‘i carry your heart’ by e.e. Cummings
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
I have never thought much of poetry. Quick paced prosa, intricate plots that kept me up till 3am in the morning, was more my thing. That has changed a while ago. I love reading poetry nowadays. This one by e.e. Commings (I have been told it’s e.e. because he hated capital letters) immediately touched me – so when I go on my journey today, I send to my family and friends that stay behind “i cary your heart (i carry it in my heart)
This egg is from 1903 called “Peter The Great Egg”
Arn’t these eggs beautiful. Much better than my hand-painted and hand-dyed ones I used to make in abundance when my kids were still young. Nowadays they are spread all over the place, celebrating Easter with their kids, and pets, and friends. Hopefully!