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Bad Things and True Blood

 

Bad Things and True Blood

   We’ve been fans of the HBO show True Blood since its first episode three seasons ago.
   It’s a captivating show that keeps getting more and more bizarre… yet even though it gets deeper into myths… the old suspension of disbelief kicks in every episode…and the first season we were transported to a modern world with Vampires newly come ‘out of the casket’, a lady who hears people’s inner thoughts, and a Shape-shifter….  the second season introduced us to packs of Werewolves, and a several millennia-old Maenad.  This  season more Shape-shifters, a Shaman, a Witch and even Fairies joined the cast.

   The show True Blood also has a very interesting and captivating intro.
I love the song ‘Bad Things’ sung by Jace Everett 
And the swiftly-moving images bring little snapshots to life

 

 

‘Bad Things’
Jace Everett 

 

When you came in the air went out.
And every shadow filled up with doubt.
I don’t know who you think you are,
But before the night is through,
I wanna do bad things with you.

I’m the kind to sit up in his room.
Heart sick an’ eyes filled up with blue.
I don’t know what you’ve done to me,
But I know this much is true:
I wanna do bad things with you.

When you came in the air went out.
And all those shadows there filled up with doubt.
I don’t know who you think you are,
But before the night is through,
I wanna do bad things with you.
I wanna do real bad things with you.

I don’t know what you’ve done to me,
But I know this much is true:
I wanna do bad things with you.
I wanna do real bad things with you.

Vincent

 

‘Vincent’
Don McLean

 

Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer’s day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can’t forget.
Like the strangers that you’ve met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they’re not listening still.
Perhaps they never will…

La memoria inmòvil

Fine Art black and white cactus images by French photographer Philippe Perrin. Taken in Mexican deserts. As part of the book ‘La memoria inmòvil’ that will be soon published in Mexico
info. email: photoandfashionstudio@gmail.com

The Many Faces of Pismo Beach

The Many Faces of Pismo Beach

 

   The modern Pismo Beach has been built up over several generations, with successive groups of folks moving in from other places.   As the town has grown, and the small amount of easily accessible and usable land already used for building… it was inevitable that building would progress higher up the hills.   These newer homes tend to be more individual in character. These steep sites with engineered slopes and retainer walls lend themselves to custom planning for the habitation itself.

   The stark geometric lines of the house below are natural extensions of the retainer walls of which the structure is well integrated with.

clean crisp lines in Pismo Beach

clean crisp lines in Pismo Beach


Steep drops in Pismo Beach
Steep drops in Pismo Beach

    Many of these homes are four levels high on the downhill side, yet the top floor is street level on the uphill side.   Such requires massive pilings several meters deep into the underlying rock.  The price of the lot is just the beginning of the costs…. but my.. what massive stunning and sweeping views of the coastline from those windows!  

   This coastline is something of a Riviera area…. the weather is mild… and the population seems to swell in the summer… in the winter it is a sleepy little town on the beach. 

Iberian style architecture in Pismo Beach

Iberian style architecture in Pismo Beach

    The first Europeans in the area were the Spanish. But they used the area only for ranching, the nearby port was a handy place to load the stacks of cowhides that were this areas major export.
    Close on the heels of the Spanish were a good number of Portuguese families who became known for fishing these local waters. They left their mark with the architecture, some local dishes, and names in the phone book.

    This home is reminiscent of some of the homes in Portugal. 

Steep hillsides in Pismo Beach

Steep hillsides in Pismo Beach


    Strong retaining walls are required in these hills. You can take a steep hillside and convert it to a series of terraces…. sometimes each with one level of a home….   There are some nice examples of steep hillside dwellings in Pismo Beach.

Door of the Morning Mist

 

“For that which is boundless in you
abides in the mansion of the sky,
whose door is the morning mist,
and whose windows
are the songs and the silences of night”

 

~Kahlil Gibran~

 

Mists of the forests approach the cactus

 

On Houses
 Kahlil Gibran

 

Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness
ere you build a house within the city walls.
For even as you have home-comings in your twilight,
so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone.
Your house is your larger body.
It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night;
and it is not dreamless.
Does not your house dream?
and dreaming, leave the city for grove or hill-top?

Would that I could gather your houses into my hand,
and like a sower scatter them in forest and meadow.
Would the valleys were your streets,
and the green paths your alleys,
that you might seek one another through vineyards,
and come with the fragrance of the earth in your garments.
But these things are not yet to be. 
In their fear your forefathers gathered you too near together.
And that fear shall endure a little longer.
A little longer shall your city walls
separate your hearths from your fields.
And tell me, people of Orphalese,
what have you in these houses?
And what is it you guard with fastened doors?
Have you peace,
the quiet urge that reveals your power?
Have you remembrances,
the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind?
Have you beauty,
that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain?
Tell me, have you these in your houses?
Or have you only comfort, and the lust for comfort,
that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest,
and then becomes a host and then a master?

Ay, and it becomes a tamer,
and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires.
Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron.
It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed
and jeer at the dignity of the flesh.
It makes mock of your sound senses,
and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels.
Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul,
and then walks grinning in the funeral.

But you, children of space, you restless in rest,
you shall not be trapped nor tamed.
Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast.
It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound,
but an eyelid that guards the eye.
You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors,
nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling,
nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.
You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living.
And though of magnificence and splendour,
your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing.
For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky,
whose door is the morning mist,
and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night 

 

 

 

Inspiration Right Now

There are many arts. Some tug at emotions, some tug at reason and intellect. Some manipulate both.
When prose and music wed to film… and when the philosopher directs the tone… what changes can happen in others?
One can watch a spider work hard and find inspiration. A surfer carving glassy waters, a gymnast or a chess master can inspire.
To do is the goal. don’t sit… do. At the end you’re more sorry about the things you didn’t try, than the things you did that didn’t work out well. Just live. And life isn’t crawling into a hole. If you can, get out and live.If you’re spinning your tires into a rut…. ease off the gas…. and get out of the car! And if your life is in the ruts… get outside if you can.  Just do something.One of the most inspirational music videos I know is ‘Right Now’ by Van Halen

‘Right Now’
~Van Halen~

Don’t wanna wait ’till tomorrow,
Why put it off another day?
One by one, little problems,
Build up, and stand in our way.
One step ahead, one step behind it,
Now ya gotta run to get even.
Make future plans, I’ll dream about yesterday.
Come on turn, turn this thing around
Right now… Hey! It’s your tomorrow
Right now… Come on, it’s everything
Right now… Catch your magic moment
Do it right here and now
It means everythingMiss a beat, you lose the rhythm
An nothin’ falls into place.
Only missed by a fraction,
Slipped a little off your pace.
The more things you get, the more you want,
Just trade in one for another.
Workin’ so hard to make it easy.
Whoa, got to turn. Come on, turn this thing around
Right now… Hey, it’s your tomorrow
Right now… Come on, it’s everything
Right now… catch that magic moment
Do it right here and now
It means everythingTell me, what are ya waitin’ for?

Cactus Plantation Panorama

Rivenrock Panorama

Rivenrock Panorama

 

 I took a panorama photo of the cactus plantation.
The perspective and aspect are skewed….
But it makes for an interesting photo.

The Year of the Cat

  Some songs.. some poetry… some words are so full of images…. close your eyes and listen to beautiful prose… if the scene does not unfold in your mind, and play out in your imagination the words were not properly connected.

   Al Stewart made a masterpiece with his ‘The Year of the Cat’ song in the seventies.   This one comes across as a movie set in Morocco to me… beautiful…. stuning… awesome… certain to be listened to for many centuries.

On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turned back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolour in the rain
Don’t bother asking for explanations
She’ll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat.

She doesn’t give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow ’till your sense of which direction
Completely disappears
By the blue-tiled walls near the market stalls
There’s a hidden door she leads you to
“These days,” she says, “I feel my life
Just like a river running through
The year of the cat”

She looks at you so cooly
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli
So you take her, to find what’s waiting inside
The year of the cat.

Well morning comes and you’re still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you’ve thrown away the choice and lost your ticket
So you have to stay on
But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the new-born day
You know sometime you’re bound to lose her
But for now you’re going to stay
In the year of the cat.

 

 

Sunset on the cactus plantation

Sunset photo
Sunset photo

Sunset on the cactus plantation

wonderful world

Tao teh Ching
Chapter 47

One can open oneself to the world without leaving the house,
Without looking out the window one can know the way of Heaven.
The further one goes and the more knowledge one accumulates, the less one knows.
With this way; one can know and experience without traveling,
Observe clearly without seeing,
And accomplish much without doing anything

 

   What a wonderful world we have… what a huge diversity of plant and animal life….. wonders abound.. it is all too astounding and amazing to fully grasp…. wondrous.

  With such a wonderful world to explore… it is a wonder that I so seldom leave this little sheltered canyon and venture out….

Luckily, with the advent of the Internet, it is so much easier to find out about far-flung regions and peoples without ever leaving home.

There’s no place like home…..

   Loreena McKennitt is a strong vocalist who also composes beautiful pieces of music with a heavy Celtic/Mideastern flavor. One of her songs, ‘Santiago’ has been put into a music video format by a fan who inserted moving images of peoples from around the world engaged in one of those most interesting human pursuits… dance.   It is an emotional journey into the abundance of human ‘types’ we have…. truly, one of the most interesting and moving videos I have ever seen.