Saturday, March 31, 2012

Sexually, I'm silly.

1. This morning I read that "people who enjoy silliness are one third more likely to be happy." (Gretchen Rubin, The Happiness Project). I am pleased to note that Rafiki and I are on the right track.

2. Princess Dragon was lying in all the sunbeams around the house. Her fur looked soft and beautiful in the sunlight. She lay with perfect repose and was a lovely reminder to enjoy the moment wherever you are.

3. Jaja and I went to a flamenco performance this evening. They got all their students up on stage from the audience, and all danced, all clapped the rhythm, and all shouted in joy at key moments (although I have no idea what the cues were) - the energy was wonderful. The professional dancers feet were a blur when they stomped out the rhythm. The dynamic between the clapping, the flamenco guitar, and the singing was amazing. The claps were so sharp and clear and would get faster and faster while the guitarist flicked out the melody. It was also exciting because each performer brought his or her own personality to the dance - for all that it was so technical, each dancer or singer was worlds apart from the styles of the rest. Some strutted, some were seriously intent, some bounced and flicked the energy into the air off their hips or their finger tips - all had fun.
When I got home I hunted down this dance from Strictly Ballroom, because I wanted to watch more flamenco-esque dance. It's such a great scene:

5. I started reading Sexually I'm More of a Switzerland: More Personal Ads from the London Review of Books. The ads in it are delightfully bizarre. So far a few of the jewels I've come across are:

"I put the phrase 'five-header bi-sexual orgy' in this ad to increase my Google hits. Really I'm looking for someone who likes hearty soups and jigsaws of kittens. Woman, 62. Berwick. Box no. 7862."

"An ancient Czech legend says that any usurper who places the Crown of Saint Wenceslas on his head is doomed to die within a year. During World War II, Reinhard Heydrich, the Nazi governor of the puppet Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, secretly wore the crown believing himself to be a great king. He was assassinated less that a year later by the Czech resistance. I have many more stories like this one. I will tell you them all and we will make love. Man, 47. Box no. 6889."

"I celebrated my fortieth birthday last week by cataloguing my collection of bird feeders. Next year I'm hoping for sexual intercourse. And a cake. Join my invite mailing list at box no. 6831. Man."

All these in just the introduction! I am looking forward to the rest.

Friday, March 30, 2012

The crusades, the telemarketers.

We got a call this morning. The voice inquired whether this was a residential or business number.
Mum confirmed it was a business, and the voice on the other end of the line asked, "So, would you like to support the military?"
Mum was so surprised she said, "The military? You'd better call the church!" and hung up. :D

Thursday, March 29, 2012

"The Mighty Oak was once a Nut that Stood its Ground."

1. I went to the symphony with my mummy today, and listened to violins sing.
At the end of the third movement Pekka Kuusisto, the solo violinist, made his violin warble like a bird, and finished the movement with a small quiet smile on his face, as if everything had come to a perfect moment and he was content. He was right, it was a perfect moment.

2. A very small bay tree has seeded itself in our rock garden. It isn't supposed to grow in our cold climate, but there it is, three sturdy leaves upraised.

3. I'm reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, and stuffing it full of bookmarks. It is very good (and happy!) and has many bits I want to remember. Today I came across this paragraph in defence of children's literature:
Children's literature often deals openly with the most transcendent themes, such as the battle between good and evil and the supreme power of love. These books don't gloss over the horror and fascination of evil, but in the end, in even the most realistic novels, good triumphs. Novelists for adults don't usually write that way; perhaps they fear being seen as sentimental or priggish or simplistic. Instead, the focus on guilt, hypocrisy, the perversion of good intentions, the cruel workings of fate, social criticism, the slipperiness of language, the inevitability of death, sexual passion, unjust accusation, and the like. These are grand literary themes. Yet I also find it enormously satisfying to see good prevail over evil, to see virtue vindicated and wrongdoing punished. I love didactic writing, whether by Tolstoy or Madeleine L'Engle.
and this quote by C.S. Lewis:
When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.
It puts into words reasons why I love children's literature so much, and can be often found lurking among those shelves, rather than the "adult" novels section where I am supposed to be found, and reminds me not to be ashamed of it, but instead, be myself and ever more grow into who I am.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Saturday, March 3, 2012