nina turns 40

pablo

I have learned from Mac at Go Fish that today is Poetry on Your Blog day. Well, you don't have to ask me twice. One of my favorite poets is Pablo Neruda. He is simply incomparable.

Love
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.

Here is a place to find out more about him, and here is another poem, which I especially like since it is published in the original Spanish as well as the English. And here lest you think I am only in the mood for sad poems is one of his odes, of which he wrote many, including one to ironing. That's why I love him, he makes the everyday and ordinary seem beautiful, which of course, they are.

Some say when you take a foto of someone, you're capturing a bit of their soul. What about the photographer? Does his or her spirit linger around the equipment they use? If I'm shooting fotos with a camera owned and used by someone else, is something of them coming through every shot I get? What about the spaces that you inhabit? The places where you have lived and loved and made love, do they retain a bit of you when you have gone? If someone is quiet, and paying attention, will they hear my laughter or feel a trace of my caress in a space I thought of as mine?

not again

Are y'all sick of me posting tulip fotos? Too bad.

after the pain, a joke

Here's one of the funniest jokes I've ever seen about Bush (I was even nice and didn't call him a fucktard). Thanks, Dave for making my morning.

in case you were wondering

yes, it still hurts like a summbitch.

the pain comes and goes, but when it comes, watch out, it's as sharp as ever.
motherfucking broken heart.

a blustery day

Seattle's weather is usually pretty mild, so we get all excited when anything out of the ordinary happens. Yesterday afternoon we got hit with a wind storm, hit hard enough to knock down trees and cause our power to be out for a few hours. The kidlet was pretty funny walking around the house testing all the things that we couldn't use. "Mommy, I want to watch a movie" Can't, the power's out, honey. OK. Sits and plays for awhile. "Mommy, let's play a game on the computer." Nope. He was also full of questions. "Mommy, how does the electricity let us cook?". So we went out to dinner and then came home to read and play games by candlelight and flashlight, until, right at bed time, of course, it all came back on.

feeling funky

For some reason this song has been floating around my head this morning:

You ain't got no kind of feeling inside
I got something that will sure 'nuff set your stuff on fire
You refuse to put anything before your pride
What I got will knock all your pride aside

Gotta love Chaka! And of course it was written by Stevie.

car wheels on a gravel road

If you've been reading nt40 for awhile, then you recall back in November that I was seriously bummed because my trip to Woo Woo Hotsprings corresponded with the Lucinda Williams concert, and I couldn't go. Well, she is coming back this July, and playing at the zoo, of all places. Can't wait! The best part is, not only can I pack a picnic dinner to enjoy with the music, but the kidlet can go too, and he gets in free.

Once, when she was going through a tough time emotionally, Cyn used the line, "Objects in this blog are not as sad as they appear", and went on to explain (sorry I'm too lazy to go find and link directly to her post) that sometimes you put all of your sadness into your blog, and that, in your everyday life, you are fine. I sort of feel that way now. That's part of what you have the blog for, to put things that you may not have any other place for, as a repository for certain emotions. The blog, although it does reflect me, isn't me. And ya gotta keep in mind, sometimes life is all about perspective. As my mother said to me this weekend, "Oh, to be 41 again..."

oh lordy, she's posting song lyrics again

And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you're blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow

--Paul Simon, "Graceland"