I stole this from Chrys.
The Big Read thinks the average adult has only read six of the top 100 books they've printed below.
1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE. (Apparently you can't underline on Blogger so, like Chrys, I'm going to star the ones I LOVE).
4) Reprint this list in your own blog so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them.
1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
* 4. Harry Potter Series - JK Rowling
* 5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible (I had parts of it read to me as a child)
7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
* 11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12. Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
* 14. Complete Works of Shakespeare (I haven't read the complete works yet, but I've made it through a hefty percentage of them, hence the star)
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19. The Time Traveler's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell (Does having seen the movie about a dozen times count?)
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25. The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams (the first one)
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
* 27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
* 29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy (Maybe, one day)
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34. Emma - Jane Austen
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38. Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41. Animal Farm - George Orwell
42. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery (the first one)
47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
* 49. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50. Atonement - Ian McEwan
51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52. Dune - Frank Herbert
53. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time - Mark Haddon
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68. Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding
69. Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72. Dracula - Bram Stoker
73. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75. Ulysses - James Joyce
* 76. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78. Germinal - Emile Zola
79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80. Possession - AS Byatt
81. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert (Started it in Lit class, didn't finish...)
86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87. Charlotte's Web - EB White
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
* 89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94. Watership Down - Richard Adams
95. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
* 98. Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo (Another one I started but didn't finish)
Interesting list. I'm surprised at how many of those I've read, and by how many of them I've never even heard of. Of course, though, like any "top 100" list, it's at least partially subjective, no matter what group of people compiled it.
So, who's next?
June 26, 2008
June 20, 2008
Update: Finished Route 50 Road Trip entries
For anyone who's interested, I finally posted the last few days of journal & photos about my 2005 road trip from Maryland to California. Enjoy!
June 7, 2008
A day at the museum: The BMA, 6/7/08
It was stinking hot in the mid-Atlantic region yesterday, so I decided a visit to the Baltimore Museum of Art would be a great way to beat the heat. And the timing turned out to be right, as this was the last weekend of their Looking Through the Lens exhibit on photography of 1900-1960. The museum's an interesting mix of historical/cultural items, classical art, and modern, abstract works. Picked up a few cool quotes and some decent photos while wandering the sculpture garden and the exhibits.
This small building is located at the corner of the museum grounds along St. Paul Street. Interestingly, the interiors of the windows are covered with newspaper pages.
"The experiment lies with the spectator in his willingness to accept what his eye conveys to him.... The success of the experiment is in proportion to the desire to discover and enjoy."
Man Ray
Click to view full size
There was an entire room dedicated to Jim Dine, with the striking skull piece, A Side View in Florida, as the focal point upon entering the room. From a museum pamphlet--
"It is tempting to codify Dine's various symbols, and occasionally the artist has identified specific meanings: ...the raven as a friend and alter ego that first appeared in a dream, the skull as the artist's voice crying to come out..."
Click to view full size
The piece below was mesmerizing. It was almost like a giant, self-automated spirograph, scratching its eternal pattern on the white-washed wall. What's so unusual about it, though, is that there's a microphone attached somewhere on the thing, and the sound of its scratching is played through speakers mounted to the ceiling above it. Hearing as well as seeing the movement of it gives the thing a strange sort of inanimate life.
And from artificial life to organic death... For the untitled work below, Zoe Leonard ate 3 bananas, 3 oranges, and 1 grapefruit, then stitched the skins back together. The placard next to the piece explains that a museum's purpose is generally to preserve works of art for perpetuity, but Leonard specifically requested that the skins be left alone, exposed to the degrading effects of the air. Her intention is, apparently, to cause the observer to "reflect upon the desire for timelessness and to contemplate the processes of decay and disappearance".
Click to view full size
This painting was a surprise to me. I've been familiar for a long time with some of the works of Gustav Klimt, but this is very atypical to the pieces he's known for. It makes me think of so many of the forests I've hiked, serene and peaceful, yet darkly moody when the sun hits a certain position in the sky and only small glimpses of light penetrate the density of the trees.
"Irreverence is the champion of liberty and its one sure defense."
Mark Twain
This small building is located at the corner of the museum grounds along St. Paul Street. Interestingly, the interiors of the windows are covered with newspaper pages.
"The experiment lies with the spectator in his willingness to accept what his eye conveys to him.... The success of the experiment is in proportion to the desire to discover and enjoy."
Man Ray
Click to view full size
There was an entire room dedicated to Jim Dine, with the striking skull piece, A Side View in Florida, as the focal point upon entering the room. From a museum pamphlet--
"It is tempting to codify Dine's various symbols, and occasionally the artist has identified specific meanings: ...the raven as a friend and alter ego that first appeared in a dream, the skull as the artist's voice crying to come out..."
Click to view full size
The piece below was mesmerizing. It was almost like a giant, self-automated spirograph, scratching its eternal pattern on the white-washed wall. What's so unusual about it, though, is that there's a microphone attached somewhere on the thing, and the sound of its scratching is played through speakers mounted to the ceiling above it. Hearing as well as seeing the movement of it gives the thing a strange sort of inanimate life.
And from artificial life to organic death... For the untitled work below, Zoe Leonard ate 3 bananas, 3 oranges, and 1 grapefruit, then stitched the skins back together. The placard next to the piece explains that a museum's purpose is generally to preserve works of art for perpetuity, but Leonard specifically requested that the skins be left alone, exposed to the degrading effects of the air. Her intention is, apparently, to cause the observer to "reflect upon the desire for timelessness and to contemplate the processes of decay and disappearance".
Click to view full size
This painting was a surprise to me. I've been familiar for a long time with some of the works of Gustav Klimt, but this is very atypical to the pieces he's known for. It makes me think of so many of the forests I've hiked, serene and peaceful, yet darkly moody when the sun hits a certain position in the sky and only small glimpses of light penetrate the density of the trees.
"Irreverence is the champion of liberty and its one sure defense."
Mark Twain
May 23, 2008
A questionnaire by Bernard Piveau
I tend to shy away from all of the questionnaires and such that are rampant at MySpace and Facebook. I figure I've provided quite a bit of info about myself on my profile page, and I'd rather have people ask for anything else they'd like to know. That initiates a dialogue, and that's what I'm on the 'net for. Not just to blab about myself (though this blog might indicate otherwise), but to put myself out there and get a response, to share with others, to learn and be exposed to new things by the folks I meet through the intarwebs. So those MySpace questionnaires with a hundred and a half questions have always struck me as a little cheesy and defeating the purpose of truly sharing information.
That said, I've always loved the questionnaire from Bernard Piveau that James Lipton uses at the end of interviews on Inside the Actors Studio. It's brief, it's simple, and sometimes there's something to be said for brevity. So, here goes:
What is your favorite word? There are sooooo many. Love of words is what compels me to read and write. But there is one word that I use pretty frequently, so it probably qualifies as a favorite-- Why?
What is your least favorite word? No
What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Curiosity
What turns you off? Ignorance
What is your favorite curse word? This is the question everyone loves, right? I don't know that I could choose just one curse word. What I enjoy is stringing a bunch of expletives together. There's just a nice, satisfying emotional release from all that vulgarity rolling off my tongue, like letting loose with something along the lines of "goddamn, simple-assed, mother-fucking prick" when someone cuts me off in traffic. That's good stuff.
(Though it does make me a bad Buddhist. And now I'm wondering if I should have set this blog for Adult Content...)
What sound or noise do you love? Spring Peepers
What sound or noise do you hate? Car alarms. Hearing one of those things can set me off on one of my strings of expletives.
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Travel writer
What profession would you not like to do? Any type of political office
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? "Hah! See? You were wrong!!"
So, now it's your turn. Anyone?
That said, I've always loved the questionnaire from Bernard Piveau that James Lipton uses at the end of interviews on Inside the Actors Studio. It's brief, it's simple, and sometimes there's something to be said for brevity. So, here goes:
What is your favorite word? There are sooooo many. Love of words is what compels me to read and write. But there is one word that I use pretty frequently, so it probably qualifies as a favorite-- Why?
What is your least favorite word? No
What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Curiosity
What turns you off? Ignorance
What is your favorite curse word? This is the question everyone loves, right? I don't know that I could choose just one curse word. What I enjoy is stringing a bunch of expletives together. There's just a nice, satisfying emotional release from all that vulgarity rolling off my tongue, like letting loose with something along the lines of "goddamn, simple-assed, mother-fucking prick" when someone cuts me off in traffic. That's good stuff.
(Though it does make me a bad Buddhist. And now I'm wondering if I should have set this blog for Adult Content...)
What sound or noise do you love? Spring Peepers
What sound or noise do you hate? Car alarms. Hearing one of those things can set me off on one of my strings of expletives.
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Travel writer
What profession would you not like to do? Any type of political office
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? "Hah! See? You were wrong!!"
So, now it's your turn. Anyone?
May 22, 2008
Anniversary of a road-trip
Three years ago this month I accomplished one of the few goals I've had in life (goals beyond that of just having a good life, that is). I drove across the U.S. along rural Route 50, from one coast (almost) to the other. It was a terrific adventure that left me craving more. Additional trips have been in the planning stages since then (most specifically, cruising the west coast along Route 1), but have yet to come to fruition. Maybe one day.
Until then, I'll continue re-living this one periodically. I created a website at the time as a journal of the trip, but now, in remembrance, I'm posting it here. The first day or two are up as of this evening, and the rest will be added a day or two at a time over the coming week. To check it out, just click on the label below for Route 50, or navigate through the 2005 entries in the Contents section over there to the right. Enjoy!
Until then, I'll continue re-living this one periodically. I created a website at the time as a journal of the trip, but now, in remembrance, I'm posting it here. The first day or two are up as of this evening, and the rest will be added a day or two at a time over the coming week. To check it out, just click on the label below for Route 50, or navigate through the 2005 entries in the Contents section over there to the right. Enjoy!
May 17, 2008
Following Circles down a lonely road
Somebody's always watching you.
My father once said those words to me, back when I was a kid. I had stolen something from a friend, a bright red rabbit's foot. Her mother called my parents that night and I went before the firing squad. Of course, I denied, denied, denied. My parents were furious. At school the next day, my friend told everyone and, despite my continued denials, I ended up ostracized by the entire sixth grade. After several days, I cracked under the pressure. I left for school one morning with the rabbit's foot in my pocket and headed far enough up the road that I figured my parents were no longer watching from the door. Then I doubled back, to the little cul-de-sac at the turn in the road, and pitched the rabbit's foot as far as I could into the woods.
Unfortunately, my father was standing by the front window at the time. He confronted me in a rage when he came home from work that night, before sending me down into the woods with a flashlight to find that damned foot. "Remember this," he told me, "Somebody's always watching you."
But who's watching in the lonely places?
The light sucked and the camera somewhat sucks, therefore these photos are not terrific.
This portion of road was driven, not walked. And my little Honda Civic handled it like a champ.
So, as I mentioned in this morning's post, I did go to Shaharazade's this afternoon. They were empty when I got there, but while I was eating, several groups of out-of-towners (presumably in town for their offsping's graduations from Shepherd U) came in to look around. I also heard the waitresses discussing the reservations for that evening (a 10-top and a couple of 4-tops). So business seems to be good. The owner popped his head out of the kitchen at one point. I probably should have spoken with him, but I was enjoying my meal and my book too much to shift into business mode. Plus, I'm feeling a bit peeved with him. Especially after one of the out-of-towners asked the waitress if "this is the place that's up for sale" and she responded in the affirmative.
But life just keeps spiraling through its never-ending circles...
Circles
You saw me lost and treading water
I looked pathetic
I looked as helpless as a stinger without a bee
But underneath my presentation, yeah
I knew the walls were coming down
And the stones that fell were aiming away from me
Hey, what would it mean to you?
To know that it'll come back around again
Hey, whatever it means to you
Know that everything moves in circles
I saw you standing in my headlights (blink, blink, blink)
I thought I'd run you down for the weight you left on me
Instead I pushed rewind, reversed and drove away
Seeing you disappear in my rearview
Brought to me the word reciprocity
Hey, what would it mean to you?
To know that it'll come back around again
Hey, whatever it means to you
Know that everything moves in circles
Round and round we go
Who could've known it'd end so well
We fall on and we fall off
Existential carousel
Spin!
My father once said those words to me, back when I was a kid. I had stolen something from a friend, a bright red rabbit's foot. Her mother called my parents that night and I went before the firing squad. Of course, I denied, denied, denied. My parents were furious. At school the next day, my friend told everyone and, despite my continued denials, I ended up ostracized by the entire sixth grade. After several days, I cracked under the pressure. I left for school one morning with the rabbit's foot in my pocket and headed far enough up the road that I figured my parents were no longer watching from the door. Then I doubled back, to the little cul-de-sac at the turn in the road, and pitched the rabbit's foot as far as I could into the woods.
Unfortunately, my father was standing by the front window at the time. He confronted me in a rage when he came home from work that night, before sending me down into the woods with a flashlight to find that damned foot. "Remember this," he told me, "Somebody's always watching you."
But who's watching in the lonely places?
The light sucked and the camera somewhat sucks, therefore these photos are not terrific.
This portion of road was driven, not walked. And my little Honda Civic handled it like a champ.
So, as I mentioned in this morning's post, I did go to Shaharazade's this afternoon. They were empty when I got there, but while I was eating, several groups of out-of-towners (presumably in town for their offsping's graduations from Shepherd U) came in to look around. I also heard the waitresses discussing the reservations for that evening (a 10-top and a couple of 4-tops). So business seems to be good. The owner popped his head out of the kitchen at one point. I probably should have spoken with him, but I was enjoying my meal and my book too much to shift into business mode. Plus, I'm feeling a bit peeved with him. Especially after one of the out-of-towners asked the waitress if "this is the place that's up for sale" and she responded in the affirmative.
But life just keeps spiraling through its never-ending circles...
Circles
You saw me lost and treading water
I looked pathetic
I looked as helpless as a stinger without a bee
But underneath my presentation, yeah
I knew the walls were coming down
And the stones that fell were aiming away from me
Hey, what would it mean to you?
To know that it'll come back around again
Hey, whatever it means to you
Know that everything moves in circles
I saw you standing in my headlights (blink, blink, blink)
I thought I'd run you down for the weight you left on me
Instead I pushed rewind, reversed and drove away
Seeing you disappear in my rearview
Brought to me the word reciprocity
Hey, what would it mean to you?
To know that it'll come back around again
Hey, whatever it means to you
Know that everything moves in circles
Round and round we go
Who could've known it'd end so well
We fall on and we fall off
Existential carousel
Spin!
Restaurant update, or lack thereof
Just a quick update for anyone who might have been wondering what happened to all my angst-ing over buying and running Shaharazade's...
The restaurant seems to be a no-go. I asked the owner over a month ago for the tax returns and income/expense reports. He responded fairly quickly that he was overwhelmed (no hint of what with) and that it'd take him a few days to get everything together. After about 10 days, I sent him an e-mail to check on things, and got a response letting me know that he was sorry for the delay and still working on things. A week later, I got another message from him letting me know that he'd just finished three tax returns with his accountant, including the one for the restaurant, and then gone home and lost them all. He'd requested new copies and would get everything to me as soon as he could. After another week or so and nothing further, I picked up the phone and called. I spoke with his wife, who said that she had seen some of the paperwork so she knew he was working on things, and that she'd have him contact me. Finally, I sent him an e-mail saying that I was heading into a busy time at work that would include a 10-day business trip (to Vegas, baby! I'm sure I'll have stories from that), and that it would be a bad time for me to try to review things. If he could get the paperwork to me during that time, I'd look at it and get back to him as soon as I could. If not, then I'd contact him in late-June/early-July to find out the status of the restaurant. That was five days ago and I've had no response.
So it seems it was a pipe dream, after all. I still love the place, though, and will probably head up there later today for a pot of tea and a late lunch, to relax, and read, and ponder what else in my life I can angst about for your reading pleasure...
The restaurant seems to be a no-go. I asked the owner over a month ago for the tax returns and income/expense reports. He responded fairly quickly that he was overwhelmed (no hint of what with) and that it'd take him a few days to get everything together. After about 10 days, I sent him an e-mail to check on things, and got a response letting me know that he was sorry for the delay and still working on things. A week later, I got another message from him letting me know that he'd just finished three tax returns with his accountant, including the one for the restaurant, and then gone home and lost them all. He'd requested new copies and would get everything to me as soon as he could. After another week or so and nothing further, I picked up the phone and called. I spoke with his wife, who said that she had seen some of the paperwork so she knew he was working on things, and that she'd have him contact me. Finally, I sent him an e-mail saying that I was heading into a busy time at work that would include a 10-day business trip (to Vegas, baby! I'm sure I'll have stories from that), and that it would be a bad time for me to try to review things. If he could get the paperwork to me during that time, I'd look at it and get back to him as soon as I could. If not, then I'd contact him in late-June/early-July to find out the status of the restaurant. That was five days ago and I've had no response.
So it seems it was a pipe dream, after all. I still love the place, though, and will probably head up there later today for a pot of tea and a late lunch, to relax, and read, and ponder what else in my life I can angst about for your reading pleasure...
May 11, 2008
From a flea-market to Diamonds and Coal
Took advantage of a grey and eventually rainy day to head up to Baltimore for lunch at Bertha's-- mussels, a side of sauteed spinach, and a really lousy yet somehow delicious bread (had to be the garlic and caper butter I kept dipping it in). With the accoutrements of my meal and a good book spread out on the table in front of me, I was quite contented, which makes the thoughts that sprang into my head all the more perverse (though that should come as no surprise).
When it comes to aphrodisiacs, oysters are the shellfish most universally called to mind. But I've come to believe that mussels are a quite overlooked candidate for that categorization. Have you ever really looked at one? They're distinctly, specifically, female in appearance, if ya know what I mean, down to almost the last anatomical detail. And when drenched in warm butter, which always ends up dripped down the chin on the way into the mouth... As a heterosexual woman, I sometimes find it to be quite an, ahem, interesting experience to dine on them. But they're a gustatory indulgence I've come to associate with the edgy seediness of Baltimore and Fells Point, and Bertha's is a wonderful place in which to consume them-- Old and dimly-lit, with deep green walls (that match the exterior) and aged wood floors, and full of an odd-ball collection of vintage paintings and prints hung at sometimes cock-eyed angles. I haven't eaten anything there besides the mussels and spinach, but the rest of the menu must be better than decent, considering the place is pretty much always full and has been that way for a couple of decades.
The Full Moon Saloon's seen better days
Planned new shopping development: The beginning of the end for Fells Point
Patterson Park pagoda, north of Fells
Wandered through a flea-market on the square at the end of Broadway on the way over to Daily Grind, at which I found an Incubus lyric scrawled on the wall of the ladies room. Speaking of Incubus, it's been a few posts since I've used one of their songs as an excuse for my ramblings, so bear with me...
Diamonds and Coal
If it’s good to complicate,
then both of us are doing fine.
Just keep your eyes on your part &
leave me alone to mine.
If it’s good to instigate,
we’re a fast horse, bet on us.
I’m not calling you an animal,
I think we just fight too much.
Come on, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
We’re both aligned in framed of mind
but circumstance got us good.
And now you’re seeing a side of me
I wished no one ever would.
Yeah, if it’s right to pick a fight,
we’re fingers in a sugar bowl.
Love isn’t perfect,
even diamonds start out as coal.
Come on, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
Give us time to shine
Even diamonds start as coal.
We’re incomplete & infantine
Even diamonds start as coal.
Give it time girl, the fire feels divine.
The sweetest things,
they burn before they shine.
We think way too much,
look at us losing touch!
A promise is a promise, I'm told…
Yeah, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
Give us time to shine
Even diamonds start as coal.
We’re incomplete & infantine
Even diamonds start as coal.
This is unfortunately not one of their better tunes, yet it's been stuck in my head for a few days now (which is the unfortunate part). It's quite catchy and the vocals are smooth and mellow, but the lyrics leave much to be desired. I mean, count the cliches, would'ya? The man's a hell of a poet, but fast horses and sugar bowls as metaphors? Brandon, babe, what were you thinking? Even when he drops an occasional weak lyric, though, there's always at least one pithy line that jumps out and takes on a meaning for me that's oftentimes unrelated to the main theme of what he's written.
"And now you're seeing a side of me I wished no one ever would..."
We've all got that side, don't we? Those silly habitual reactions that we'd like to disown. But how many of us face them? How many of us are even consciously aware of them? For many, qualities like immaturity, pettiness, spite, and cruelty are acted out without us even realizing it. We act, or react, without seeing our own behavior, without recognizing the shadow within. What's even worse is when we slip into projection:
...Jung also noted that, instead of repressing or denying the shadow, we may also project the shadow onto others, attributing to other people those nasty, unsavory qualities that we would like to deny in ourselves. Shadow projection can thus result in paranoia, suspiciousness, and a lack of intimacy, all of which afflict individuals, groups, even entire nations. Far from solving the problem, shadow projections act only to exacerbate the troublesome quality of this dark side of our soul, injecting a kind of poison into interpersonal relationships through self-righteous denial and distorted perceptions.
(A Guided Tour of the Collected Works of C. G. Jung, Robert H. Hopcke)
Part of what I enjoy about this blog is that it's a journal of sorts, providing the opportunity to analyze my own character and intentions throught the prism of my experiences and the music I listen to. I've wondered more than once just how honest I care to be in these posts. I'm only aware of a handful of people who read them, and I have no idea how frequently those few do so. But this site might have been discovered by dozens of bored and anonymous intarweb surfers who have found my words moving, thought-provoking, amusing, annoying, or just plain ignorant. I'll likely never know. It's enough, though, to give pause and make me feel a tad self-conscious. Do I want a bunch of virtual strangers to see that "side of me I wished no one ever would"? Or is this the place to explore my shadow compassionately and dig up the better part of me? Something to think about.
Only a reflection of my self (a rare self-portrait)
When it comes to aphrodisiacs, oysters are the shellfish most universally called to mind. But I've come to believe that mussels are a quite overlooked candidate for that categorization. Have you ever really looked at one? They're distinctly, specifically, female in appearance, if ya know what I mean, down to almost the last anatomical detail. And when drenched in warm butter, which always ends up dripped down the chin on the way into the mouth... As a heterosexual woman, I sometimes find it to be quite an, ahem, interesting experience to dine on them. But they're a gustatory indulgence I've come to associate with the edgy seediness of Baltimore and Fells Point, and Bertha's is a wonderful place in which to consume them-- Old and dimly-lit, with deep green walls (that match the exterior) and aged wood floors, and full of an odd-ball collection of vintage paintings and prints hung at sometimes cock-eyed angles. I haven't eaten anything there besides the mussels and spinach, but the rest of the menu must be better than decent, considering the place is pretty much always full and has been that way for a couple of decades.
The Full Moon Saloon's seen better days
Planned new shopping development: The beginning of the end for Fells Point
Patterson Park pagoda, north of Fells
Wandered through a flea-market on the square at the end of Broadway on the way over to Daily Grind, at which I found an Incubus lyric scrawled on the wall of the ladies room. Speaking of Incubus, it's been a few posts since I've used one of their songs as an excuse for my ramblings, so bear with me...
Diamonds and Coal
If it’s good to complicate,
then both of us are doing fine.
Just keep your eyes on your part &
leave me alone to mine.
If it’s good to instigate,
we’re a fast horse, bet on us.
I’m not calling you an animal,
I think we just fight too much.
Come on, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
We’re both aligned in framed of mind
but circumstance got us good.
And now you’re seeing a side of me
I wished no one ever would.
Yeah, if it’s right to pick a fight,
we’re fingers in a sugar bowl.
Love isn’t perfect,
even diamonds start out as coal.
Come on, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
Give us time to shine
Even diamonds start as coal.
We’re incomplete & infantine
Even diamonds start as coal.
Give it time girl, the fire feels divine.
The sweetest things,
they burn before they shine.
We think way too much,
look at us losing touch!
A promise is a promise, I'm told…
Yeah, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
Give us time to shine
Even diamonds start as coal.
We’re incomplete & infantine
Even diamonds start as coal.
This is unfortunately not one of their better tunes, yet it's been stuck in my head for a few days now (which is the unfortunate part). It's quite catchy and the vocals are smooth and mellow, but the lyrics leave much to be desired. I mean, count the cliches, would'ya? The man's a hell of a poet, but fast horses and sugar bowls as metaphors? Brandon, babe, what were you thinking? Even when he drops an occasional weak lyric, though, there's always at least one pithy line that jumps out and takes on a meaning for me that's oftentimes unrelated to the main theme of what he's written.
"And now you're seeing a side of me I wished no one ever would..."
We've all got that side, don't we? Those silly habitual reactions that we'd like to disown. But how many of us face them? How many of us are even consciously aware of them? For many, qualities like immaturity, pettiness, spite, and cruelty are acted out without us even realizing it. We act, or react, without seeing our own behavior, without recognizing the shadow within. What's even worse is when we slip into projection:
...Jung also noted that, instead of repressing or denying the shadow, we may also project the shadow onto others, attributing to other people those nasty, unsavory qualities that we would like to deny in ourselves. Shadow projection can thus result in paranoia, suspiciousness, and a lack of intimacy, all of which afflict individuals, groups, even entire nations. Far from solving the problem, shadow projections act only to exacerbate the troublesome quality of this dark side of our soul, injecting a kind of poison into interpersonal relationships through self-righteous denial and distorted perceptions.
(A Guided Tour of the Collected Works of C. G. Jung, Robert H. Hopcke)
Part of what I enjoy about this blog is that it's a journal of sorts, providing the opportunity to analyze my own character and intentions throught the prism of my experiences and the music I listen to. I've wondered more than once just how honest I care to be in these posts. I'm only aware of a handful of people who read them, and I have no idea how frequently those few do so. But this site might have been discovered by dozens of bored and anonymous intarweb surfers who have found my words moving, thought-provoking, amusing, annoying, or just plain ignorant. I'll likely never know. It's enough, though, to give pause and make me feel a tad self-conscious. Do I want a bunch of virtual strangers to see that "side of me I wished no one ever would"? Or is this the place to explore my shadow compassionately and dig up the better part of me? Something to think about.
Only a reflection of my self (a rare self-portrait)
May 9, 2008
Kitteh update
I finally got some decent photos of the kittens, almost four months after adopting them in January. They're both almost double the size they were then, and it's been so very fun and interesting to watch their personalities and habits develop. If reading about kitteh shenanigans isn't your thing, you'll wanna skip this post.
Alec was the one that I expected to be mellow and dignified. He looks that way still, but is a devilish little bastard when it comes to things like jumping on countertops and climbing my bookshelves. I come home from work and find knick-knacks and books from a shelf five feet off the ground scattered all over the living room. This gives me paranoid visions of walking in and finding the bookshelf tipped over on the floor and the little brat-cat squashed underneath it. But he's got the most awesome purr and sleeps most of the night sprawled alongside my shins, so I'd be very sorry to see him squished.
Little Olive is the one that I expected to be trouble, but she's actually been fairly well-behaved, despite her liveliness. She doesn't have the boy's jumping ability, though she's beginning to make up for that by learning how to pry open cabinet doors in the kitchen. She also makes the sweetest little chirping noises when she wants attention.
At this point, they're not exactly buddies, but there's definitely a sibling dynamic. They don't curl up and sleep together, but they'll sit haunch-to-haunch at the glass storm door, watching the world go by. And every so often, one will begin grooming the other, licking its head and ears. After a minute or two, I'll see the one doing the grooming stretch its mouth open wide and suddenly latch around the other's neck like some camp vampire going after its prey. This is the cue for a round of wrestling that would put the WWF crew to shame.
Their favorite playground is the bathtub. He has a thing for my rubber ducky (gag-gift from a co-worker, and it's fun in a kitschy way), and she loves to jump in and chase her own tail, banging and thumping against the walls of the tub.
I'm constantly amazed at how attached I've become to these two little monsters (much more so than I think I ever was to the Goombah, I'm a bit ashamed to admit). Perhaps it's because there's two of them, perhaps it's because they were kittens when I adopted them. I don't know the reason, but I'm smitten, and they're spoiled rotten because of it.
Little shits had better appreciate just how good they've got it...
Alec was the one that I expected to be mellow and dignified. He looks that way still, but is a devilish little bastard when it comes to things like jumping on countertops and climbing my bookshelves. I come home from work and find knick-knacks and books from a shelf five feet off the ground scattered all over the living room. This gives me paranoid visions of walking in and finding the bookshelf tipped over on the floor and the little brat-cat squashed underneath it. But he's got the most awesome purr and sleeps most of the night sprawled alongside my shins, so I'd be very sorry to see him squished.
Little Olive is the one that I expected to be trouble, but she's actually been fairly well-behaved, despite her liveliness. She doesn't have the boy's jumping ability, though she's beginning to make up for that by learning how to pry open cabinet doors in the kitchen. She also makes the sweetest little chirping noises when she wants attention.
At this point, they're not exactly buddies, but there's definitely a sibling dynamic. They don't curl up and sleep together, but they'll sit haunch-to-haunch at the glass storm door, watching the world go by. And every so often, one will begin grooming the other, licking its head and ears. After a minute or two, I'll see the one doing the grooming stretch its mouth open wide and suddenly latch around the other's neck like some camp vampire going after its prey. This is the cue for a round of wrestling that would put the WWF crew to shame.
Their favorite playground is the bathtub. He has a thing for my rubber ducky (gag-gift from a co-worker, and it's fun in a kitschy way), and she loves to jump in and chase her own tail, banging and thumping against the walls of the tub.
I'm constantly amazed at how attached I've become to these two little monsters (much more so than I think I ever was to the Goombah, I'm a bit ashamed to admit). Perhaps it's because there's two of them, perhaps it's because they were kittens when I adopted them. I don't know the reason, but I'm smitten, and they're spoiled rotten because of it.
Little shits had better appreciate just how good they've got it...
Helping out the Fat Cyclist
Elden's good buddy, Kenny, posted this in the comments to a recent update:
Dear Readers of Fatcyclist.com,
This last week has been truly tragic learning of the down turn of Suzan’s illness. As I read these comments left by all you good people, the over all theme is the same. “What can we do for Elden, Susan and their kids?” I decided it was time to stop wondering and time to start doing. I set up a bank account in Elden’s name at a local bank here in Utah. It is linked to pay pal. The pay pal account is winsusannelson@gmail.com. If you don’t have a pay pal account you can also donate by going to my business’s website http://www.kennysphoto.com/ and clicking on the link in the middle of the page, where you can donate with the credit card of your choice. Please know that all funds collected will go directly to this bank account and after a two month period will be given to Elden, Susan and Family. Elden is unaware of this account, until now, of course. I’m not sure how he will react to this comment, but if he removes it, I’m going to continue to put it back on his blog and I invite you as fatcyclist readers to also put this on your own respective blogs. I truly believe that we bless our own lives, when we help others, so I hope that Elden will allow us to help him through this very trying time in his life. He truly has touched each one of us, through his writing and his friendship.
Respectfully yours,Kenny
Dear Readers of Fatcyclist.com,
This last week has been truly tragic learning of the down turn of Suzan’s illness. As I read these comments left by all you good people, the over all theme is the same. “What can we do for Elden, Susan and their kids?” I decided it was time to stop wondering and time to start doing. I set up a bank account in Elden’s name at a local bank here in Utah. It is linked to pay pal. The pay pal account is winsusannelson@gmail.com. If you don’t have a pay pal account you can also donate by going to my business’s website http://www.kennysphoto.com/ and clicking on the link in the middle of the page, where you can donate with the credit card of your choice. Please know that all funds collected will go directly to this bank account and after a two month period will be given to Elden, Susan and Family. Elden is unaware of this account, until now, of course. I’m not sure how he will react to this comment, but if he removes it, I’m going to continue to put it back on his blog and I invite you as fatcyclist readers to also put this on your own respective blogs. I truly believe that we bless our own lives, when we help others, so I hope that Elden will allow us to help him through this very trying time in his life. He truly has touched each one of us, through his writing and his friendship.
Respectfully yours,Kenny
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