Tag Archives: #MarilynJayeLewis

C’è una festa qui!

Yes! There’s a party going on here today, gang! Finally – a day wherein my mind doesn’t have to do anything!

I’m still going to do something — not sure what. Either work on the new segment of In the Shadow of Narcissa, or Letter #5 for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse. Both of them have already begun inching into my brain. But knowing that I don’t actually have to work on that play today is like having a mini brain-vacation.

I honestly don’t know if the director will sign off on those revisions. But at least I got to the point where I felt that I had done what I was trying to do, and I liked it. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I nailed it theatrically. We’ll see.

But meanwhile, it feels good. And I’m taking a break from working on the micro-short script with Peitor until next week. I just need to feel, you know — “not blocked in,” time-wise.

I’m no longer on speaking terms with my insane bathroom scale. For the last few days, it has been assuring me that I’ve gained between 5 to 8 pounds. Even though my measurements are exactly the same and my clothes fit the way they should and I eat the same damn thing every single darn day — and, on Monday, I was at my goal weight and had been for a couple of weeks.

I know the scale is fucked up and has been since I bought it. I should just stop this masochistic torture and go buy another fucking scale. The Dollar Store has the old-fashioned kind for $9. I should just go get it. But for some reason, my mind is kind of fascinated by this scale — its unpredictability.  It’s sadistic approach to punishment & reward — you know, in the true BDSM sense of that concept; where the Top makes sure that the rules remain in flux, constantly changing, so that the bottom never knows whether s/he will be rewarded or punished.  It’s fun if you’re having sex, but not so fun if you’re intensely vain, like me, and want to begin each morning knowing that absolutely everything is perfect with your meticulously tended to body.

But the new scale is so sleek and modern looking! The old-fashioned scales are not… Clearly I’m putting too much emphasis on appearances here, all the way around.

Okay! That’s my worst problem of the day, so you can see that things are pretty good here. And I found the best birthday present for Kara, so I’m super excited about that. She’s not easy to shop for because she will never ever tell you what she wants or needs, or even likes. Last year, I bought her candy — in a plastic champagne bottle. At least it was celebratory-looking. But I gave it to her, feeling like: well, here, at least I’m giving you something. But then it turned out that she actually really liked it. She texted me at 3 in the morning; she was outside on her back steps in the freezing cold, drinking an espresso, looking at the moon, eating her chocolates alone and smoking a cigarette — and was apparently in heaven.

So you never know what makes someone happy. But I did indeed find something this year that I know she will like — because it will remind her, in a comforting way, of her mom who passed away unexpectedly last fall.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that Kara is my only real friend out here in the Hinterlands, although I do have acquaintances. But Kara is so good at buying gifts! And she’ll just suddenly turn up with, like, a pair of earrings and say, “I saw these and they really looked like something you’d like so I bought them.” And then it will turn out that I love them. She’s done that a couple of times — bought me these amazing earrings that really bring out the hippy-chick in me, and then also bought me these really pretty fake pearls that are just so elegant, even though they’re fake. (I still remember how to look elegant, even though I don’t do it very often anymore.) They actually look more elegant than the real pearls I own. It’s funny.

Anyway. It’s been frustrating to not be able to do the same for her — except by accident.

All righty! I’m gonna get more coffee and think about the freedom of this day, and decide what it is that’s calling to me loudest and work on that for awhile. I hope you have a splendid little day, wherever you are in the world.

I’m still in Ghosteen mode around here in the mornings; still listening to “Night Raid” on repeat, trying to figure out that song. That line “annexed your insides in a late night raid” and then they go get something to eat. What the heck does that mean? Has she gotten pregnant or something? What is it? It seems so specific.

Anyway, I’m still pondering over that song, so I’ll leave you with a song that sprang into my head the moment I awoke at 5:30am this morning.  A super-fun song from my wee bonny girlhood! (It’s a song written by Neil Diamond, but this is the version I grew up with.) All righty! Thanks for visiting! I love you guys. See ya!

“I’m A Believer”

I thought love was only true in fairy tales
Meant for someone else but not for me.
Love was out to get me
That’s the way it seemed.
Disappointment haunted all my dreams.

Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer
Not a trace of doubt in my mind.
I’m in love, I’m a believer!
I couldn’t leave her if I tried.

I thought love was more or less a givin’ thing,
Seems the more I gave the less I got.
What’s the use in tryin’?
All you get is pain.
When I needed sunshine I got rain.

Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer
Not a trace of doubt in my mind.
I’m in love, I’m a believer!
I couldn’t leave her if I tried.

Love was out to get me
Now, that’s the way it seemed
Disappointment haunted all my dreams

Oh, then I saw her face, now I’m a believer
Not a trace of doubt in my mind.
I’m in love, I’m a believer!
I couldn’t leave her if I tried.

Yes, I saw her face, now I’m a believer
And not a trace of doubt in my mind.
Said I’m a believer
I’m a believer
I’m a believer
Said I’m a believer
I’m a believer
I said I’m a believer
I’m a believer

c – 1967 Neil Diamond

Okay. The Play’s done. Again.

That’s a shot of part of my family room — I might sit in that chair again some day. I remember I used to do that. Watch movies and stream all those cool British DCI shows from the BBC.

We’ll see.

As indicated above, I finished the revisions on the play and just sent them off to the director in NYC. I did what I was hoping to do, to capture, but I’m not 100% sure it’s having enough of an impact as the ending (before the final song). We’ll see what the director thinks.

I have Helen ending on a partial quote from Psalm 22. She’s on an elevated platform thing, sort of like heaven, but it’s a mental landscape that doesn’t include her wheelchair, and she’s wondering what her story is now — now that she’s paralyzed and can no longer paint –after having waited 50 years before she could afford the time to paint and had enough money to buy paints and canvases, and so many paintings are still inside her.

Wanda is down below her, talking mostly to the audience, but all these other voices from Helen’s past are also speaking, overlapping. Wanda is marveling at the story that became her own life because she met Helen, and she ends with: “I’ll ease her way. I’m strong.”

And then Helen says some stuff about Jesus going to Jerusalem even though he knew his days were numbered there. And then she ends with impassioned dialogue based on Psalm 22, ending with,  “Tell my bones, tell all my bones, people — what you think it looks like to be me!” And then everything goes to black and her best paintings are projected everywhere — lots of motion and images, and then a very young Helen is heard saying, “I am Helen LaFrance Orr, I was born in a log cabin that my daddy built on our farm in Graves County, Kentucky, on November 2, 1919…” And then the entire cast breaks into a real rafter-hitting arrangement of “I Want to be Ready to Walk in Jerusalem Just like John.”

So we’ll see.

Anyway, I can turn my attention to other projects in the meantime. And dream of that day when, you know — everything’s gonna be done! (Is there actually a day like that?)

I had a good day, though. And now I’m gonna do yoga. Think about life.

I hope things are good wherever you are! See ya in the morning, gang. Thanks for visiting.

All Righty, Gang! Here We Go!!

Well, it doesn’t look exactly like this here in Crazeysburg today — all of the snow is mostly gone now. But it is a brisk and invigorating 13 degrees Fahrenheit around here!

But I don’t have to go anywhere, except perhaps across the road to my mailbox. So I don’t mind. I am kind of wishing that the main door to my barn was fixed, though, because I’d like to put my brand new grown-up car — with its awesome sparkly paint job — in there on icy days like this.

I would really like my sister to come out here and do that for me. I don’t like to play the “Damsel in Distress” card too often, but sometimes I simply am a damsel in distress. I can’t fucking fix anything. Whereas my sister, a hardcore daddy-dyke who wouldn’t be caught dead being a damsel in distress, can fix everything. But it’s a 2-hour drive from her to me. And she has, like, a life of her own and stuff like that. And if I texted her and said: can u pls come out here & fix my barn door, she would do it in a heartbeat, so I hate to take advantage. I’ll just keep dealing with it until, for whatever reason, some day she is back out here.

(The door opens, but it’s off its roller thingy and so it has become a 2-person job to open & close the main barn door.)

Anyway, there my brand new car sits, outside my kitchen door, with ice all over it.

Well, okay. I got some very interesting progress made on the final page of the play yesterday. It sort of veered into a direction I wasn’t expecting, but I like where it went. It sort of showed me that I had a plot-line & a character arc that wasn’t getting sewn-up there at the end, so that was a good thing. However, it kind of stopped me in my tracks and I had to re-think some things.

I think I’ll get it done today, but I was at it until pretty late last night, thinking I almost had it. Then for some reason, with the script open in front of me on the laptop, I suddenly decided that if I got on pornhub on my phone for a moment, it would help me think more clearly. What it did do was help me find some girl’s “channel” or account, or whatever you call it — this young brunette who uploads her own videos, where she does this one specific thing that sort of made my jaw drop a little. So I became a little bit fixated on her (and her partner, but way less on him than on her, because, truly, it was all about her). Anyway, she was awesome. And it was late. And I’d been at my desk for over 12 hours already, so I closed the laptop and gave her my undivided attention until bedtime.

I’m not going to say what she sort of specializes in, but she has an amazing eye for color. She uses primary colors in a very startling and enhancing way. And what she does is in extreme close-up so the specific choice of color is actually part of what she’s doing, and I think that’s just amazing — that she has such an eye for how color is going to enhance what she’s filming because, you know, she can’t readily see what’s going on when it’s going on. So I think she’s brilliant.  And in a couple of the videos, you can see her face for a moment and I thought it was really interesting that she hardly wears any make-up but she does wear false eyelashes — so why that specific choice? False eyelashes when she wears so little make-up? False eyelashes are usually the coup de grâce when you’re wearing just a truckload of make-up — male or female. And she has a very unusual manicure — it’s startling. So you know she’s doing all this on purpose. I just thought she was the coolest thing (plus, she was doing something I actually really like — nothing to get squeamish over or anything — so I was very appreciative of her willingness to be such a total exhibitionist — with an unexpected eye for primary colors.)

So that was yesterday! I actually had a really cool day. And today is all about nailing that final chunk of dialogue. And I am getting the feeling I am just going to be really happy, gang.

So I’m gonna get started here.  I stayed in bed a little late this morning — it was just too snuggly for words around here! My flannel sheets were fresh from the dryer last night, and flannel sheets are always so unbelievably soft when they’re right out of the dryer.  So between that, the cold outside and the heat inside, and my cute cats frolicking hither & yon in my bedroom, attempting to get me to wake the fuck up — well, it was just a wonderful morning for laying there and feeling snuggly.

But now art awaits, and things like Pulitzer prizes and such are on the horizon, so I must get down to work. Thanks for visiting, gang!! I leave you with my breakfast-listening music — I love this song, gang, even though I have no clue what it’s about. I think it could be my favorite on the album, but that sort of shifts around. Anyway. Have a great Wednesday, wherever you are in the world!! I love you guys. See ya!

“Night Raid”

There’s a picture of Jesus lying in his mother’s arms
Shuttered windows, cars humming on the street below
The fountain throbbed in the lobby of the Grand Hotel
We checked into room thirty-three, well well, well well
You were a runaway flake of snow
You were skinny and white as a wafer, yeah I know
Sitting on the edge of the bed clicking your shoes
I slid my little songs out from under you

And we all rose from our wonder
We would never admit defeat
And we leaned out of the window
As the rain fell on the street, on the street

They were just a sigh released from a dying star
They were runaway flakes of snow, yeah I know
They annexed your insides in a late night raid
We sent down for drinks and something to eat
The cars humming in the rain on the street below
A fountain throbs in the lobby of the Grand Hotel
A spurting font of creativity, yeah I know
Your head in a pool of your own streaming hair
And Jesus lying in his mother’s arms
Just so, up on the wall, just so

And we all rose up from our wonder
We would never admit defeat
And we leaned out of the window
And watched the horses in the street, in the street

In room thirty-three, yeah
Yeah, I know

c – 2019 Nick Cave

Just A Snuggly Little Morning!

Yes, it snowed during the night!

It’s not exactly a winter wonderland, but there is a covering of snow on everything here in Crazeysburg.  Mostly, it’s just super cold here today. The high will be 23 degrees Fahrenheit. So I’m happy to just sit here at my desk today and write — and  drink coffee. The laundry is already well under way…

I’m expecting just a really nice, quiet day.

If you saw the photo I posted the other day of the remains of the old coal bin under the basement stairs, it won’t surprise you to learn that this house is old enough to have had fireplaces in every room.  The dining room still has a fireplace, but it’s only decorative now — it was boarded up a long time ago.

The boarded-up fireplace in the dining room — another room that only the cats use because I rarely ever set foot in there!

The fireplaces that were in the two bedrooms are completely boarded up and plastered over, still, you can see where they used to be. I love trying to imagine what the rooms were like when the fireplaces were in them and in active use.

A previous owner had a wood-burning fireplace in the family room, which is now stored out in the barn. (This house was a rental property for several years before I bought it and in Ohio, it’s illegal to have wood-burning stoves in rental units.) (Fire hazards.)

I’ve toyed with the idea of having it brought inside and re-installed. The connection to the chimney is still accessible in the wall, I just have it covered over with a free-standing bookcase. But honestly — these days, I am never in my family room, either, so it would only be for the cats. Plus, I can barely find time to do things like wash my hair and make my bed. I can’t even imagine having to stop whatever I’m doing at my desk and go put more wood in the fireplace. Or — God forbid — have to go outside and bring in more wood when I run out. I just don’t see it happening. Unless I hire some sort of a permanent live-in handyman, or something. You know, to keep things looking as if someone — besides 7 cats — actually lives in here.

However, I have always loved living in places that had fireplaces, working or not. Growing up, we almost always had at least one, if not two, fireplaces in the house. And even in NYC, most of the apartments I lived in had fireplaces. That hellhole tenement on E.12th Street, where I lived for 9 intense years, had two fireplaces — one in the living room and one in the kitchen!! That was too cool. I loved that. The building had been built in 1895, and had been built specifically to house the teeming amounts of poor immigrants on New York’s lower east side, so I’m guessing that was their source of heat for a really long time.

I was the last person to live in that specific apartment before it got “gentrified.” As tenants moved out, one by one, the landlord would cosmetically update each apartment — board-up and plaster over the fireplaces and then lay down new wood floors, to make the floors seem level (which they weren’t– they constantly sloped in the direction of the East River). And then, overnight, they jacked-up the rent astronomically. And, of course, found plenty of people willing to pay for that fake “renovation.”

But as run down as it was when I lived there it sure had character. I loved those old wood floors and those fireplaces, and the old iron bathtub in the kitchen. It had a front door to the living room, and also a back door to the kitchen. And it was filled with spirits — just like this house I’m in now. Friendly and very active spirits, from a hundred years (or more) of lives being lived at whatever intensity. I loved that part about living on E. 12th Street — the spirits of old New Yorkers were so close back then.

But now it’s just gentrified. No character. Just really expensive.

Well, I know, you can’t just live in the past. Progress is usually a good thing. But in America, it’s hard to find places that retain any sort of real character. In order to do that, the people who live there have to work hard at keeping large-scale commerce out.  Fast-food chains and box stores, specifically. Keeping that stuff out really does help keep a place peaceful and sane — and low crime. Plus tons of trees. There are always plenty of tress in areas where they aren’t constantly building something.

Anyway, I like it. And it’s not as if the people here in this little village, in these intensely old, quirky houses, don’t drive nice cars and have smart phones and flat screen TVs. Everyone’s on the Internet.  In fact, one night last summer — it was so funny: everyone was out and taking a stroll, really late in the evening. I mean, like after 10 PM — so many people out strolling. Why? Because the Internet was down! And almost everyone here has the same internet provider. No TV, no smartphones. So let’s just go out and stroll and talk to each other. It was very amusing.

Okay. I’m gonna finish up the laundry and get to work on that last page of the play! Have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world and whatever the weather.  Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

“Our Town”

And you know the sun’s settin’ fast
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye
But hold on to your lover
‘Cause your heart’s bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on our town, on our town

Up the street beside that red neon light
That’s where I met my baby on one hot summer night
He was the tender and I ordered a beer
It’s been forty years and I’m still sitting here

But you know the sun’s settin’ fast
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye
But hold on to your lover
‘Cause your heart’s bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on our town, on our town

It’s here I had my babies and I had my first kiss
I’ve walked down Main Street in the cold morning mist
Over there is where I bought my first car
It turned over once but then it never went far

And I can see the sun’s settin’ fast
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye
But hold on to your lover
‘Cause your heart’s bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on our town, on our town

I buried my Mama and I buried my Pa
They sleep up the street beside that pretty brick wall
I bring them flowers about every day
But I just gotta cry when I think what they’d say

If they could see how the sun’s settin’ fast
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye
But hold on to your lover
‘Cause your heart’s bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can’t you see the sun’s settin’ down on our town, on our town

Now I sit on the porch and watch the lightning-bugs fly
But I can’t see too good, I got tears in my eyes
I’m leaving tomorrow but I don’t wanna go
I love you, my town, you’ll always live in my soul

But I can see the sun’s settin’ fast
And just like they say, nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on, I gotta kiss you goodbye
But I’ll hold to my lover
‘Cause my heart’s ’bout to die
Go on now and say goodbye to my town, to my town
I can see the sun has gone down on my town, on my town

c – 1992 Iris DeMent

Now, That’s A Man Who Knows How to Say, ‘I Love You’…

I am speaking of Tom Jones, of course.

For some unknown reason, I woke up this morning bordering on feeling really depressed and the voice in my head was singing “I (Who Have Nothing).”   If you don’t know this song, I of course will regale you with it at the bottom of this post.

If you’ve read my novel Freak Parade (and who hasn’t? ), you no doubt already know that I love Tom Jones — and have since I was a wee bonny lass, that’s for sure. I guess that’s a polite way of saying that he’s been around forever. (Because I’ve already been around forever and he’s been around even longer than that!)

Anyway. Boy, that man can sing. And because he can be so passionate, so deep, so emotional and powerful — because of those very things, I really couldn’t manage getting on YouTube before the sun was even up in order to listen to that (really old) intensely emotional song. Even though I really wanted to, because I thought it might give me some insight into why I would wake up singing it when I haven’t actually heard that song in years.

But I really just can’t listen to Tom Jones at 5:30 in the morning. (I guess if I was married to him or something, I could listen to him at 5:30 in the morning. Of course, he’s probably not actually singing at 5:30 in the morning. Who knows what he’s doing at that hour? It could be that he’s actually just sleeping. Anyway.)

So I got out of bed instead, and tried to focus on not feeling depressed. I’ve made good headway with 4 of the cats. Huckleberry and Doris — the two who always accompany me to the bathroom first thing in the morning, are now letting me pet them several times in a row. Mind you, I have to be peeing in the dark while this is going on , but I will take whatever meager crumbs of love that I can get. But it’s really so cute. They really seem to like being petted in this small way. Huckleberry has started purring — a thing I never heard her do in these 7 years. And Doris will actually bat at my hand if I pet Huckleberry for too long without petting her, too.

But if I pet them for one moment longer than they deem appropriate, they nip at me and scratch.

And Weenie and Scottie now both allow me to pet them one time before I set their bowls of food down in front of them in the morning, but that’s it. If I try to pet them more than once, they bite. Still, it’s progress. (It only took 7 years to be able to pet a cat once….)

I’m patient, if nothing else. And that was actually kind of why I was depressed this morning — sometimes I just feel like giving up. Just that sense of “why do I do all this every day; day in, day out?” And I of course mean everything in my life when I say that — not just this business of trying to permanently foster an entire colony of feral cats.

For the most part, I’m actually really happy. But some days, I wake up and look at it all – life, I mean — and I think: not this again; didn’t I do all this just yesterday, and every single solitary other day before this one? For what? What’s the goal here? Is there in fact a goal? A reason to be here, beyond just doing the same darn thing every single day? What is life, anyway? What does all this mean?

And then I can quickly spiral downward from there, if I’m not careful. Man, it can happen really quickly.

So I do try really, really hard to distract myself from thinking like that. And the cats — as un-demonstrative as they are — they can be very good at distracting me. And I do honestly think, on some really deep level, that that’s why they’re here. To distract the heck out of me.

Anyway, after breakfast, I went back up to my room to meditate, but I just didn’t feel like it today.  So I got on YouTube and finally listened to Tom Jones sing “I (Who have Nothing)”. And, man, that fucker can sing.  I’m still not sure why I woke up with that song in my head — it did indeed remind me of Freak Parade, and of all that was going on in my life when I began writing that novel back in 2005 (or I should say, all that had happened to me before then, which made me write the novel). But maybe, on some deep level,  my ears needed to hear the entire Universe, in the guise of Tom Jones, say “I love you” in that indescribably overpowering way. (And he doesn’t seem to be straining himself, or anything, when he sings like that; it just comes out.)

Well, I don’t actually really know what anything is about. I know I have the day ahead of me and I want it to be productive and maybe even joyful. I guess we’ll see.

There was yet another Red Hand Files newsletter thing today that Nick Cave sent out. I felt terrible reading it. I shouldn’t have posted anything on my blog the other day about  some of the things people write in and say to him. So if you read what I posted, just delete it in your head. And I will attempt to mind my own business (a thing that is sometimes exceedingly hard for me to do).

Okay. I’m gonna get started here. Work on the play. Set the Italian lessons aside for a moment. Get back to thinking in English. Have a wonderful Monday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. The video I’m leaving you with is poor quality, visually, but the sound is what’s important, and it’s incredible. All right. I love you guys. See ya.

“I (Who Have Nothing)”

I, I who have nothing
I, I who have no one
Adore you, and want you so
I’m just a no one,
With nothing to give you but, oh
I Love You

He, He buys you diamonds
Bright, sparkling diamonds
But believe me, dear when I say,
That he can give you the world,
But he’ll never love you the way
I Love You

He can take you anyplace he wants
To fancy clubs and restaurants
But I can only watch you with
My nose pressed up against the window pane
I, I who have nothing
I, I who have no one
Must watch you, go dancing by
Wrapped in the arms of somebody else
When darling it’s I
Who Loves you

I Love You
I Love You
I Love You
c- 1970 Jerry Leiber, Mike Stoller, Giulio Rapetti, Labati Donida

Stepping back to re-focus

Sometimes, even when I know that the stuff I’m trying to say is in there — inside my brain— I just can’t get a clear signal. You know, like a radio dial. I’m tuning and tuning, but not landing on that clear signal that lets everything come in crystal clear.

I’m talking about the final page of dialogue for the play— in case I’m not being crystal clear!

It’s not coming. So I’ve decided to focus on my Italian lessons instead. Just get my brain involved in something else.  And then maybe when I shift my focus back to the play, the dialogue I need to hear will be there.

Even though I’m not sure now if the retreats will be held in Italy or England, I paid for a year in advance for the Italian lessons so I’m just going to keep studying it until either the year is up, or I end up needing to keep studying it indefinitely.

I am not very good at Italian.  My mind still wants to shift back into French. And like any language I’ve ever studied, except for Mandarin Chinese, which I was strangely good at speaking, I just do so much better reading a new language than speaking it. So the moment I’m not actually looking at the Italian lessons, I forget everything I just learned. Yet the moment I take another quiz, even if it’s the monthly quiz that goes over everything to date— well, then I remember absolutely everything. So I have no idea why I can’t simply recall all this stuff when the lessons aren’t in front of me.

But anyway. I’ve decided to focus on Italian for awhile. Give the play a wee little rest.

It’s a beautiful morning here. It doesn’t seem to be as cold as it’s been the past few mornings.

The other morning when I was out in my car along the main road, this one group of cows that I really love did something so cute! If you’ve never been around a group of cows— meaning standing right with them or in their midst— they are quite curious creatures. They will all look at you, at the same time, the moment you appear. It’s a strange sensation, because they’re so large.

Anyway, I group the main road here by the animals. First there’s a huge group of cows on a hill. Then a smaller group of cows in a pasture right by the road. Then a group of chickens. Then horses with a couple of cows. Then another large group of cows on a hill. Then more chickens. Then you get closer to town.

Well it’s that group of about 20 cows that are near the road that I just love, because whenever I drive past them, they’re just so close. I love looking at them. The other day, the guy who owns them was installing some new feeders. Another guy was helping him. And all the cows were standing sort of in a circle, surrounding the men, just very curiously watching what they were doing. It was so funny looking! It was just the sweetest thing.

Anyway. I do love animals.

Okay, I’m gonna scoot. Have a great Sunday. Since I’m still in bed, I’ll leave you with a photo of my bedroom door, from the bed just now. I love how the light is hitting it. I’m not sure why I love this door so much, but I do. It’s one of the few doors that are original to the house, so the door and the iron door knob are 119 years old.

All right. Thanks for visiting!! I love you guys. See ya.

The view if my bedroom door from the bed just now.



Just Some Thoughts on a Celebration, of Sorts…

Since most of my readers do not come from the United States, and are more likely to have a cognizant awareness of who Nick Cave is — I’m guessing that most of you already know that Ghosteen, the new album by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, has been declared the Album of the Decade, by Metacritic, which tallies the accumulated critical scores that a movie, album, or game receives. And Ghosteen received the highest ratings across the board, to land it in the top spot for the entire decade.

Ghosteen Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

It’s a wonderful achievement, but it’s also an announcement that is just so poignant to me that it’s hard to be truly “happy” about it. I am glad, though.

Assuming this is not your first visit to this blog then you are well aware that I love this album, but still find it just devastating to listen to. I can rarely listen to the whole album all the way through. I usually have to stop it at some point and just breathe, you know? Walk away.

Sometimes I only get as far as “Waiting For You” before that happens — that’s only the 3rd song in. Most of the time, I can get as far as “Galleon Ship” and then I have to stop. I don’t know why “Galleon Ship” is so hard for me, but it is. I have a really tough time listening to that one without it totally breaking my heart.

I don’t know for sure if this is true, but I heard that their album Skeleton Tree is the #5 album of the decade. Of course, both of these albums have to do with the death of one of Nick Cave’s sons. But I think it’s accurate to say that a lot of  Skeleton Tree had already been recorded before his son was killed.  But Ghosteen — I don’t see how that album could have come into existence if his son hadn’t died, and so that’s why it’s just so hard for me to join in all the Instagram hoopla over it being the Album of the Decade. Honestly, I can only see the trade-off. And it’s too poignant. What the death of a child does to the parents, and to the family. Not to mention what it does to the child’s private world — other children; lives that have nothing to do with the parents or the family. Or with art.

Yet all of that had to happen for the art to have even needed to be expressed.  And it is amazingly beautiful art — and I am glad that it’s getting honored everywhere. I am. But it’s still just so sad.

Okay, I’m going to get back to work here, gang. I’ll leave you with this, if you haven’t already heard it. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“Galleon Ship”

If I could sail a galleon ship
Long, lonely rider across the sky
Seek out mysteries while you sleep
And treasures money cannot buy

For you know I see you everywhere
A servant girl, an empress
My galleon ship will fly and fall
Fall and fly and fly and fall deep into your loveliness

And if we rise my love
Before the daylight comes
A thousand galleon ships will sail
Ghostly around the morning sun

As the city rises up
As the city rises up
As the city rises up
As the city rises up

For we are not alone, it seems
So many riders in the sky
The winds of longing in their sails
Searching for the other side

And if we rise my love
Oh my darling, precious one
We’ll stand and watch the galleon ships
Circle around the morning sun

c – 2019 Nick Cave

Blogging from bed! What could be nicer??

It is a truly frosty morning out there, gang, so I decided to stay snuggled in bed a while longer. Drink my coffee. Watch the world get light outside the windows. Blog on the phone instead of at the  computer at my desk.

I did indeed get the porches cleared off yesterday. Everything is put away in the barn. Everything is ready for winter. Me, as well. I guess I’m ready for winter. I sure hope my birth mom will come back and help me decorate for Christmas. I would love that so much. We’ll see.

The play is not finished, even though I really do only have about a page to go. I’m still not getting the exact understanding of it. There’s going to be a sort of cacophony of dialogue that builds from Helen’s past and I’m not exactly sure yet how to do that.  But I know it’s in there — I can feel it trying to form inside me. I just need that moment of clarity and it will all come out.

Well, WordPress informs me that it’s our anniversary!  I have been blogging with WordPress for 12 years already. Is that, like, insane or what??!! I maintained a couple different blogs here over the years that were not my “main blog”. The main one was at Go Daddy for a very long time before I switched over to WordPress exclusively. But wow — 12 years. That just kind of shocked me, I really hate when time just gallops away.

Oh, an interesting update on my insane bathroom scale! I actually gained 7 pounds this morning while standing on it. That was a first! The scale has actually been working just fine for a few weeks now, so I have no idea what causes it to suddenly go weird like that. But I thought that was kind of funny.  I jumped off of it in a hurry, though. You know, thinking that if I stood on it for too long, I might gain 20 pounds, or something equally unwieldy…

Anyway, I have nothing really to report today. I’m just having a snuggly little morning. All’s right with the world here in Crazeysburg. My cats are quite cozy and enjoying having the heat kicking on all the time.  They hang out primarily in the family room in colder months. I put fleece throws on everything and so they all snuggle into the various throws. It’s kind of cool to walk through the family room, en route to the coffee pot in the kitchen, and see 7 cats snuggling contentedly everywhere, just staring at me.

If it weren’t for these cats, I wouldn’t have this cool old house. Well, I had 8 cats when I bought the house. But I would have settled for something much more plebeian without them. I bought the house because I needed the space for all these cats! As you know, I, personally am either up in my room or in the kitchen. The rest of the house is for them. (To throw up in and cough up hair balls in and to shed all over. But they sure are nice to look at!!)

Okay!! Gonna scoot.  I’m gonna think & stare for awhile and try to tap into the vibes of the play.

Have a super cozy Saturday wherever you are in the world, gang! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

the 3 feral kittens I rescued back at the old house— before they exploded into the colony I have now that no one would adopt!!

Not Free & Not Legal

I feel like Friday is now my day to want to scream at people.

Neptune & Surf is not in the public domain or anything close to it. Even if you are an Asian gaming site currently offering free downloads of the alleged “Blue Moon” version of this book, it is not legal to do it.

I know that used copies of this specific edition currently cost anywhere from $45 to $125 — and who wants to pay that? Actually not me –however, it still doesn’t mean that the Blue Moon edition is legal to download.

Neptune & Surf, Blue Moon edition

While Barney Rosset is indeed dead and Blue Moon was shuttered many years ago, the rights to Neptune & Surf are controlled by Hachette UK, and if any of you gentle readers have not read Neptune & Surf yet, and feel the irresistible urge to read it immediately and cannot afford the 99 cents  (or whatever paltry amount the Kindle edition costs) in order to download it legally; if it’s a choice between a humble bowl of soup and a lowly crust of bread, or legally buying Neptune & Surf — just contact me for godssakes.

This is getting really annoying….

Please do not patronize pirates. I’d really appreciate that, gang.

Thanks for visiting. See ya.

Just a Great Big Bunch of Joy All Over the Place!

First of all, Ghosteen, the new Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds double album, is officially out today!! Go buy it, perhaps along with one or more of its various and sundry merchandising options!!

Ghosteen Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, out today

I was indeed informed yesterday that my very own copy of  the CD was put in the mail to me yesterday (I can even track its shipping progress, if I’d like to), and it is guaranteed to arrive on Friday November 22nd !!!! WTF!!

I mean, it is totally my fault for being so impatient. Pre-ordering it from the UK, instead of waiting until it was available for pre-ordering at Amazon US (which was something, like, later that same afternoon).  And then, of course, God knows I was too busy to go into Amazon UK and cancel the pre-order and then re-order it at Amazon US — because that would have taken about 5 minutes, and I usually save those 5 extra minutes I have each day for using the bathroom…

Anyway. When I got the cheerful email yesterday, alerting me of the CD’s successful send-off somewhere in my general direction, I was really irritated with myself. That’s two weeks away. It’s like how shipping was in olden-times…

However, it’s not as if I don’t constantly listen to it already on my phone and on my iPad, and have it practically memorized. I don’t actually need the CD in my life. So I’ll just look on it as a happy little perk — one day, in the mysterious and far distant future, I’ll look out my kitchen door, and there it will be, sitting happily on my porch in the wilds of Muskingum County, after its long, and no doubt colorful and adventure-filled, voyage from England.

(Meanwhile, all 14 of my neighbors here in Crazeysburg, 33% of whom work at the Amazon warehouse 25 miles from here, will have been happily listening to their own US-distributed copies of the Ghosteen CDs that whole entire time…)

Okay. One more Nick Cave thing…

He sent out another Red Hand Files letter-thingie today; a sort of follow-up to the one he sent out a couple of days ago, about Transcendental Meditation. You can read it at that link there, if you so choose. I would say that his response today was charitable (which is an adjective, meaning “apt to judge others leniently or favorably” and which is probably why he meditates).

And so, onward.

Yes!! I made amazing progress with the play yesterday — finally. I made it through that chunk of dialogue — and I was really happy with it.  And then a great big bunch of stuff poured out on its heels, that I was also really happy with.

And today, I have maybe a page left?? Honestly, I am that close to finally being done.  One page. (Until they need more rewrites, that is.)

And on that note, I’m gonna scoot. I have to pay some bills here before I totally forget again and have a bunch of hard-working office-drones from hither & yon politely wondering if I’m asleep or dead or on drugs. (None of the above. What I am is super day-dreamy these days.)

So I’m gonna pay bills. Then I’m gonna put on my Wellies, and my scarf and mittens and my arctic coat, and drag all the various flower pots and summer lawn accoutrements back into the barn for the winter (the frost and snow flurries did indeed arrive, and now all the impatiens are done). Then I’m gonna pour myself another cup of coffee and sit my quite comely behind back down at the computer and FINISH THE PLAY!!!! (Again!!!!!)

Have a wonderful Friday, wherever you are in the world, gang! Thanks for visiting. I leave you with this — but, you know, go BUY IT. (I can’t really link your purchasing options here because my readers come from all over the world. But I’m sure you know where you buy your music.) All righty! I love you guys. See ya.

“Bright Horses”

The bright horses have broken free from the fields
They are horses of love, their manes full of fire
They are parting the cities, those bright burning horses
And everyone is hiding, and no one makes a sound
And I’m by your side and I’m holding your hand
Bright horses of wonder springing from your burning hand

And everyone has a heart and it’s calling for something
We’re all so sick and tired of seeing things as they are
Horses are just horses and their manes aren’t full of fire
The fields are just fields, and there ain’t no Lord
And everyone is hidden, and everyone is cruel
And there’s no shortage of tyrants, and no shortage of fools
And the little white shape dancing at the end of the hall
Is just a wish that time can’t dissolve at all

Oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, well, this world is plain to see
It don’t mean we can’t believe in something, and anyway
My baby’s coming back now on the next train
I can hear the whistle blowing, I can hear the mighty roar
I can hear the horses prancing in the pastures of the Lord
Oh the train is coming, and I’m standing here to see
And it’s bringing my baby right back to me
Well there are some things that are hard to explain
But my baby’s coming home now, on the 5:30 train

c – 2019 Nick Cave & Warren Ellis