Bradbury’s Brainy Bites

Work is done for the day so time to ponder.  I was thinking about Ray Bradbury tonight.  He’s the author of two of my favorite texts: Fahrenheit 451 and Dandelion Wine.  He has penned so many inspiring words I have trouble choosing only some quotes (a few are taped to the shelf above my desk).  Long story shorter (I can never guarantee short), here’s a few of my faves:

“We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.” ~Bradbury

“He glanced back at the wall. How like a mirror, too, her face. Impossible; for how many people did you know who reflected your own light to you? People were more often–he searched for a simile, found one in his work–torches, blazing away until they whiffed out. How rarely did other people’s faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression, your own innermost trembling thought?” ~ Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)

“We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.” ~ Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)

“You’ll find out it’s little savors and little things that count more than big ones. A walk on a spring morning is better than an eighty-mile ride in a hopped-up car, you know why? Because it’s full of flavors, full of a lot of things growing. You’ve time to seek and find.”~Bradbury (Dandelion Wine)

“Are you happy?” she [Clarisse] said. “Am I what?” he [Montag] cried. But she was gone- running in the moonlight. Her front door shut gently.” ~ Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. It doesn’t matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away. “ ~ Bradbury

“If we listened to our intellect we’d never have a love affair. We’d never have a friendship. We’d never go in business because we’d be cynical: “It’s gonna go wrong.” Or “She’s going to hurt me.” Or,”I’ve had a couple of bad love affairs, so therefore . . .” Well, that’s nonsense. You’re going to miss life. You’ve got to jump off the cliff all the time and build your wings on the way down.” ~Bradbury
 
“You’re either in love with what you do, or you’re not in love.” ~Bradbury 
 

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” ~Bradbury

Must. . .have. . .coffee!

*sigh* I will admit it.  I’m in the throes of withdrawal and it’s not pretty.  It’s been over a week and I’ve had to forgo that which makes my mornings bright, my brain less fuzzy, and my day fulfilled.  Some of you know what I’m talking about.  Some of you can empathize because you, too, like (okay, love) your morning jolt.  I don’t expect a lot.  I’m taking each day as it comes: hoping for the best, appreciative of the simple, and not as irritated when life flings strife my way.  Yet, I’m less enthused about facing what lies ahead without my cup of Joe.  With my special Christmas mug (a gift from my daughter) filled to the brim with Breakfast Blend and topped off with Vanilla Silk, I can accomplish anything.  Without it, I can still accomplish everything but it’s not as much fun (and the pace might be a tad bit slower).  So, here’s hoping that this dry spell will end soon and I may, once again, enjoy my cherished morning ritual.  Long live coffee!

Jazz

your first ancestors
had geographic ridges
purple-blue crisscrosses
once slashed gaping open
crimson that mouthed
“wade in the water chillan” 

you called people
responded the blues
bent in depressed
trances third fifth and
seventh like pancakes
flattened by a spatula

you ragged people
shagged under red
lights to a syncopated
rhythm AABBACCC no
more cakewalks just sexy
marches and falling Maple Leaves 

© Pamela A. Rossow

 

 

“W” is for Wedgie!

According to my darling nephew, the letter “w” is for wedgie. No watermelon, wiggles or Wednesday–just wedgies. There is no designated time for “w’s” to occur. They may happen unannounced on any day of the week and wherever young exuberant boys are present. This is not to say that my niece–and other girls–do not participate in giving “w’s.” They just lack the bountiful zeal their male counterparts express when giving them. I don’t have to worry, though. The little munchkins don’t scare me. I just have to watch my back a little more :-).

MEME

MEME TAG
Tag–I’m it. Yogasavy writes her blog, Live, Laugh Breath and expresses her love of yoga as a way of living.  She is a bright spot during times of personal darkness and she is quick to encourage, write with empathy, and spiritually inspire (she is a yoga master AND rocks killer shoes)!  She says, “I am with many dimensions some more pronounced than others. I am not perfect and not seeking for perfection! Trying to understand my purpose here on earth. Learning to surrender to what is not in my control and to have faith in the universe for gently nudging me into the unknown. Am passionate and whole when teaching yoga. It is this practice that has taught me many life lessons and has force me to look deep within my depths…..”  
 
I am to answer a few questions about myself then pass the MEME on to other bloggers I enjoy. It’s a fun a fun way of getting to know me and the other bloggers. Do take the time to visit their sites.
 
Here goes:
 
1. If you could go back in time to relive one moment, what would it be?
    I would be back at Seagate as a child, on a sunny day, sitting by the ocean, and  wrapped in my grandparent’s loving embrace.
 
2. If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?
    Would have pursued my writing goals earlier in life.
 
3. What movie or TV character do you think you resemble most in personality?
    Good question. . . not a clue.  I will answer for a book character and it is Emily from Emily Climbs   by  L. M. Montgomery.
     
4. Which TV or movie character would you like to be?
    Again, TV not so much.  Book author, Ray Bradbury because he is unapologetic regarding his writings and he kicks ass and takes names!
 
5. If you could push one person in the whole world off a cliff and get away with it, who would it be?
    And you thought I would answer. . .
 
6. Name one habit you want to change in yourself.
Let’s see:  if the question were “about myself” it would be to drink less coffee.  Since it’s “in” myself, to be more at peace about things, people, events, I cannot change.
 
7. Describe yourself in one word.
    Enigma.
 
8. Describe the person who named you in this MEME in one word.
    Shining.
 
9. Why do you blog? Answer in one sentence.
    Cathartic release of pent up emotions AND I love writing.
 
10. Name at least 3 people or more to send this MEME, and then inform them:
 
I enjoy visiting their blogs and reading about their lives, thoughts and opinions.  Thank you Sav!  xo

Hidden Treasure

I’m a “quotes” person.  I love quotes from people who have climbed rungs of the highest ladders, who have tripped and fallen face down in grime, who have cleansed themselves by splashing about in rain puddles, who have soared on the wings of ecstasy, who have teetered on rocky precipices, who have cradled a little person close to them and inhaled that baby’s sweetness, who have scratched art into existence, who have loved, hated, accomplished, failed, thrown in the towel, swam with rip tides until they broke free. . .who have LIVED. 

“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?

The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within, not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear.”
~Stephen King (Different Seasons)

Portfolio

she was liquid convertible
bought then sold “securities”
a word not recognized in
her metaphysical vocabulary

terms tossed about like
paper airplanes aimed here
there nose diving into sharp
dips and crumpled equities

result of losses maybe wobbles
in her investor’s confidence or
possibly sheer panic either way
equilibrium shoved off kilter

she was left to question her
worth she realized she was an
asset her price immeasurable
by Wall Street’s standards

he was hit hard when he traded
stock privatized that plummeted
her market value though
rose to astronomical heights

~Pamela 

B.S. Meter

Meter reader guy:  “I inspected your service line and nothing’s been tampered with.”

Me:   “Thank God, I was worried for a minute.”

Meter reader guy:  “I went ahead with the maintenance and you should be good to go.”

Me:  “What do I owe you?”

Meter reader guy:  “Nothing.  Says here you’ve paid in full.”

Me:  “Awesome!”

I am happy to announce (no, not that, what the heck were you thinking?) that my B.S. meter is fully operational.  It is so sensitive that it picks up the slightest B.S. kilowatt.  Then the small hand moves.  Fortunately, I am not charged for B.S. read.  I’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble.  However, I am developing a portable, handheld system that may be purchased for a reasonable price for those of you whose meters are not working properly.  I have many people to thank for my highly, specialized meter but I will reserve my accolades for another time and place (the B.S. Oscars 2011).  In the mean time, you know who you are.  I do, however, have my speech worked out.

Me (accepting my award):  “Thank-you.  I am so honored.  I would like to thank my family and friends for supporting me during times of high stress  B.S.  Next, I thank those red hands for spinning out of control and saving me from unnecessary naivety. I will treasure you always.  For those of you who have fine tuned my meter because of the spoonfuls truckloads of B.S. you have dumped my way, my future appreciates it (bowing)!”

There’s fear and darkness all around you . . . .

Confession–I watch Dog the Bounty Hunter (frequently, when I’m up late, not writing, and can’t sleep). I can’t help myself. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s filmed in Hawaii (dreamy, someday vacay spot), Leland’s tatts are cool, Dog is just awesome, Beth rocks dragon nails and pink handcuffs, Duane Lee II is hot, it’s a family business or I get to vicariously track wanted criminals (I took a lot of criminology classes back in the day). 

What I know is, I like it regardless of what others think. I don’t really care if my family members snicker when they walk in my room and it’s on (yet, I find the need to confess).

Many times, I hit sleep on the remote and fall into a deep slumber as Dog and his crew are screaming at a guy to get on the ground or during the prayer, the cuffing, the good-byes, the last cigarette, the bottle of water, the talk or the drive to turn in the captured fugitive.

Hmmm–clearly a dork. I must go now. Dog is on. The sleep button is counting down, I’m tired (exhausted really), and I have a lot of work to do tomorrow (plus, hockey play off game #2). Aloha!

Love

I am not posting this song because it was my wedding song.  I am posting it for two special people in my life.

Special people,  you must know that this kind of love is the only kind that will not fail you.  It is the best way I can love you, the right way to love you, the most sincere way to love you.  This love I’m referring to doesn’t remain seated warming the chair. This love doesn’t shuffle its feet and walk slowly away from all that it right and honest.  This love isn’t a foot rest that exists for you to kick your feet up and chill on.  When smacked down, however, it gets up over and over  and over again.  It is true, faithful, and unconditional.  It is the best part of me I can offer you.   Do not bring in the concrete mixer and begin pouring and pouring until the walls are so high, the light is so remote, that you get scratched and bruised and cut trying to claw your way out.  Keep your hearts and minds open to the love that you knew and believed in.