Language & Grammar discussion
Streams of Consciousness
>
Moe's Missing Missives
while i'm waiting
i perused the 1000 books to read before you die group and i got to about 400 and they all seem to be fiction books
didn't see any classic lit
and was unfamiliar with many of the titles, authors
Rushdie showed up about 3 times in the first 400
didn't see history, or science or math represented
einstein's theory didn't seem relative to the list makers
and i was wondering
if you could choose 5 books to read before you die what would they be?
10?
and so on...as far as you would like to share
if i'm going to spend say 10 years of my life on something i want unique quality firstly, secondly and lastly or i might as well tear my self apart over apples and oranges)
(apropos of not much-it seems the list maker was tied to a fiction publisher
i'd like to make a list of our own but sure don't want to start a whole group)
i perused the 1000 books to read before you die group and i got to about 400 and they all seem to be fiction books
didn't see any classic lit
and was unfamiliar with many of the titles, authors
Rushdie showed up about 3 times in the first 400
didn't see history, or science or math represented
einstein's theory didn't seem relative to the list makers
and i was wondering
if you could choose 5 books to read before you die what would they be?
10?
and so on...as far as you would like to share
if i'm going to spend say 10 years of my life on something i want unique quality firstly, secondly and lastly or i might as well tear my self apart over apples and oranges)
(apropos of not much-it seems the list maker was tied to a fiction publisher
i'd like to make a list of our own but sure don't want to start a whole group)
allusions
love em
use em a lot but i tend to be the only one who knows what i'm alluding to
of course with me you get the obscure cultural allusion more readily than the literary one and the added challenge of writing style and tangental thinking style
once knew a dude-his name was marlowe dechristopher
taught art at the local college as an adjunct
his father taught art as a vaudville tv show in chicago i beleive with his mom
marlowe would talk for maybe 5 minutes about color families
he'd begin with one premise and add so many clauses, digressions, juxtapositions that the sentence he began with would only come to a conclusion at the end of the 5 minutes
my god you would have to wait for it
but when it came
if you followed down the path and strayed where he strayed always keeping a mental eye on the trail he would bring you safely back through the brambles and underbrush
and there you'd be looking up at a 50 foot hemlock tree with color families dancing across the branches like sunshine
sigh
unfortunetly not many could wait for the walk back so everything he said seemed unintelligible
brilliant man who boiled lead on his gas stove to make oil paint the way the old masters did
his wife did norwegian tole paintings for greeting cards and worked in the salmon processing plant
he'd go out and nearly kill himself falling off the ladder while he knocked the ice out of the roof gutters while contemplating the curing speed of lead and burnt umber
while she braided their 4 year old daughters hair and put on her matching yuppie jumper and loaded her into the cereleun blue volvo for the trip to preschool
love em
use em a lot but i tend to be the only one who knows what i'm alluding to
of course with me you get the obscure cultural allusion more readily than the literary one and the added challenge of writing style and tangental thinking style
once knew a dude-his name was marlowe dechristopher
taught art at the local college as an adjunct
his father taught art as a vaudville tv show in chicago i beleive with his mom
marlowe would talk for maybe 5 minutes about color families
he'd begin with one premise and add so many clauses, digressions, juxtapositions that the sentence he began with would only come to a conclusion at the end of the 5 minutes
my god you would have to wait for it
but when it came
if you followed down the path and strayed where he strayed always keeping a mental eye on the trail he would bring you safely back through the brambles and underbrush
and there you'd be looking up at a 50 foot hemlock tree with color families dancing across the branches like sunshine
sigh
unfortunetly not many could wait for the walk back so everything he said seemed unintelligible
brilliant man who boiled lead on his gas stove to make oil paint the way the old masters did
his wife did norwegian tole paintings for greeting cards and worked in the salmon processing plant
he'd go out and nearly kill himself falling off the ladder while he knocked the ice out of the roof gutters while contemplating the curing speed of lead and burnt umber
while she braided their 4 year old daughters hair and put on her matching yuppie jumper and loaded her into the cereleun blue volvo for the trip to preschool
Mod
I'm not big on lists, either, because I've got my own problems (OK, lists) and who ARE these "experts" to tell me what must be read and what mustn't?
yah
i love stream of consciousness
but can't stand kerouac
go figure
my little river is great
your creek doesn't cut it
arrogant so and so that i can be
yah donna isn't that priceless
some things you can't make up
his parents were something tagging him with that one
he was something
his wife was something
his 4 year old daughter mia was something
she told my then 9 year old son that she would marry him when they were older
and it wasn't that cutesy kid thing this girl was dead serious and if we had stayed there...
i love stream of consciousness
but can't stand kerouac
go figure
my little river is great
your creek doesn't cut it
arrogant so and so that i can be
yah donna isn't that priceless
some things you can't make up
his parents were something tagging him with that one
he was something
his wife was something
his 4 year old daughter mia was something
she told my then 9 year old son that she would marry him when they were older
and it wasn't that cutesy kid thing this girl was dead serious and if we had stayed there...
so-i responded to ne
and sort of meant it to be the beginning of my thread
but left it attached to his so
came up with the missing missives title
but now the missing missive contains info
that belongs to this stream and is informative
in a purely informative and possibly an amusing way
and to ensure the flow of the next sequence of mots i choose to pluck from the floss
i find i need the missive that speaks of shoes and glass buildings
and job interviews but since the nature of the thing is to begin and continue to go with the current as it pulls one along
in semi coherent song
i shall leave it behind on ne's thread
and just come out and say
i got the job
the one i interviewed for in the ill fitting brown shoes
bankruptcy will be the arena of my toil
and my foil
to ceaseless meanderings on online forums of language and grammar and not boring history but you know i'll attempt in the course of my day
to ambulate my fingers across the workplace keys to find you here along the riverbanks of knowledge and fun
money! yay!
and sort of meant it to be the beginning of my thread
but left it attached to his so
came up with the missing missives title
but now the missing missive contains info
that belongs to this stream and is informative
in a purely informative and possibly an amusing way
and to ensure the flow of the next sequence of mots i choose to pluck from the floss
i find i need the missive that speaks of shoes and glass buildings
and job interviews but since the nature of the thing is to begin and continue to go with the current as it pulls one along
in semi coherent song
i shall leave it behind on ne's thread
and just come out and say
i got the job
the one i interviewed for in the ill fitting brown shoes
bankruptcy will be the arena of my toil
and my foil
to ceaseless meanderings on online forums of language and grammar and not boring history but you know i'll attempt in the course of my day
to ambulate my fingers across the workplace keys to find you here along the riverbanks of knowledge and fun
money! yay!
Mod
thanks
monday next
and it has been a year and a half since i've received a paycheck so i am very ready
it's been 15 years since i took this much time off working (nanny gig for grandkids is work but not paid and not the same)
you know us yankees
we wouldn't know what to do without the mines
crazy puritan work ethic
the husband and wife team are also very nice
they remind me of my last boss and his wife
very decent people
it's also 32 hours so not a full week which is nice
monday next
and it has been a year and a half since i've received a paycheck so i am very ready
it's been 15 years since i took this much time off working (nanny gig for grandkids is work but not paid and not the same)
you know us yankees
we wouldn't know what to do without the mines
crazy puritan work ethic
the husband and wife team are also very nice
they remind me of my last boss and his wife
very decent people
it's also 32 hours so not a full week which is nice
Mod
thanks deb
i wrote a cute little response to you but then an error on the page occurred! :(
trust me-it was brilliant
the gist was
a grant
write a grant
then i provided an objective
utilizing all the ed jargon i could come up with including curriculum development predicated on your grammar and language study of online forums :)
i wrote a cute little response to you but then an error on the page occurred! :(
trust me-it was brilliant
the gist was
a grant
write a grant
then i provided an objective
utilizing all the ed jargon i could come up with including curriculum development predicated on your grammar and language study of online forums :)
Mod
heehee
get out your pen and write that objective!
i actually once wrote an interdisciplinary arts grant with my friend marlowe no less (mentioned above) and another adjunct professor (theatre)
we ended up with $300 a piece for 6 months as the administrators and funds for monthly workshops or outreach to a number of local schools
i had something like 180 participants and our theatre component had around 250
it was quite cool
i also worked on some "at risk youth" grants through the local health center i was affiliated with
anyway-i know in the u.s. it's not so tough to get educational grants
so...when shall i prepare the guest room? :)
get out your pen and write that objective!
i actually once wrote an interdisciplinary arts grant with my friend marlowe no less (mentioned above) and another adjunct professor (theatre)
we ended up with $300 a piece for 6 months as the administrators and funds for monthly workshops or outreach to a number of local schools
i had something like 180 participants and our theatre component had around 250
it was quite cool
i also worked on some "at risk youth" grants through the local health center i was affiliated with
anyway-i know in the u.s. it's not so tough to get educational grants
so...when shall i prepare the guest room? :)
time moves you into a new place
and a small river does too
without your permission even and holding onto it for another hour watching the sun on the water
watching the stones you stacked that look like ducks and cranes
indian chiefs and medicine men seems the best response to the oddness of land
the cold shaded bank that holds nothing
except fear exposed or anger or disdain
the last heat of the day holds you in a place that knew a you
you didn't even know yourself
but sooner or later you would have to go because the sun comes down behind the mountain sooner
without regard to what one small beaten human may want
then the night comes and sleep
and dreams beyond control dreams of dark chambers and unfulfilled dreams
touching the worst aspects of yourself in the moments before waking
so coming to a new day
is not like it is supposed to be
coming to the new task brings no joy just an obligation to go where you are supposed to and walking where it is you are supposed to go and doing those things that are required of a person
if they are to be called a person of any worth and the sun on the water and the stones stacked and balanced on each other in the flow are gone in yesterday and you may never go back have already gone away from who you were and who you were not
an imperfect woman sitting as still as possible on stone lest the whole world shift into stone
shift away forever from that day that was known
and a small river does too
without your permission even and holding onto it for another hour watching the sun on the water
watching the stones you stacked that look like ducks and cranes
indian chiefs and medicine men seems the best response to the oddness of land
the cold shaded bank that holds nothing
except fear exposed or anger or disdain
the last heat of the day holds you in a place that knew a you
you didn't even know yourself
but sooner or later you would have to go because the sun comes down behind the mountain sooner
without regard to what one small beaten human may want
then the night comes and sleep
and dreams beyond control dreams of dark chambers and unfulfilled dreams
touching the worst aspects of yourself in the moments before waking
so coming to a new day
is not like it is supposed to be
coming to the new task brings no joy just an obligation to go where you are supposed to and walking where it is you are supposed to go and doing those things that are required of a person
if they are to be called a person of any worth and the sun on the water and the stones stacked and balanced on each other in the flow are gone in yesterday and you may never go back have already gone away from who you were and who you were not
an imperfect woman sitting as still as possible on stone lest the whole world shift into stone
shift away forever from that day that was known
we forget that grief makes us crazy
until it reminds us again
we forget the bite of our own thoughts in our mouths until we pray and the words form a why
we forget that people can call us away from ourselves so that the grief we feel is that part of us that knew but couldn't handle the knowing
until it reminds us again
we forget the bite of our own thoughts in our mouths until we pray and the words form a why
we forget that people can call us away from ourselves so that the grief we feel is that part of us that knew but couldn't handle the knowing
oooh
that's quite a lot
not many will sit
merci
that's quite a lot
not many will sit
merci
Mod
Mod
For me it was most acute when I had to attend my sister's wedding the day after my step-daughter hung herself. It felt like.....every act of normality in the face of such overwhelming grief built some sort of de-humanising wall.
I read, I think, I ponder
I want to help, for I am a helper at heart
I want to fix, but I know I can't
Whatever the grief, whatever the cause
Please know that my thoughts are with you
I want to help, for I am a helper at heart
I want to fix, but I know I can't
Whatever the grief, whatever the cause
Please know that my thoughts are with you
"We Forget that Grief Makes us Crazy""Good grief" imagine that! "good" & "grief" together in the same sentence. "Crazy grief" so much more accurate. Grief the Thief
is how I'd put it. The master thief. Perfecter
of the snatch. My eyes had grown so used to watching I thought I had all the tricks down
to an art. He slipped one past me. You.
An eyeblink and forever gone away.
Once separated by a continent.
They dolled you up and put you on a plane.
Seattle to Atlanta to the Cleveland airport.
Met by the local hearse arranged to drive you home.
That chain-link fence where the hearses line up waiting
they show it over & over on the TV news. It's where
the soldiers return, the ones who did not make it
Out alive from our current war.
Is the world required
To suffer an allotted serving of grief
No matter how we mourn is there a toll
That must be paid, demanded
By Death who has set an unseen goal
As you can see I've also been set crazy
My grief-addled brain erasing from my mind
The notion that words make sense that all
we need is to get along together, smile
don't worry, just be happy and be kind.
Mod
Good grief is a classic oxymoron....like civil war, or educated guess.
My favorite is military intelligence.
Mod
yes the universal thief
the capital D that demands a fuller measure than we perhaps can give
thanks for the commentary all of you
my own grief was over a friends loss
and my semi loss of a beautiful moment in time
ne-landscape :)
debbie-ideas on those acts of normalcy which are insane given the circumstances
sarah-thanks for the thoughts-it was not an immediate nor a personal death that was bothering me but grief nonetheless not simple sadness
marian-love some of the phrases
"My eyes had grown so used to watching I thought I had all the tricks down
to an art. He slipped one past me."
"the notion that words make sense at all"
these ideas are such a fabric of life
my friend who had lost his wife who reminded me what i didn't want to lose
who reminded me of absolute beauty in simple rock sculptures and a small river
god reminding me that loss is the final arbitration and anything else matters not at all
life is full of these moments and all of us must pass through these dark moments
pass through these dark doors that lead back to sunshine after a time
but it can't be hurried and one must always be conscious of the honor due
hmmm
debbie i am sorry about your step daughter
suicide has it's own cruel rules
i heard a lady speaking today about loving everyone and it was corny but she had a very good point
love is all that matters when it comes down to it
vagracies of life give us all more crazy sorrow than we should have to endure and loving is the only cure
now...there's this valley out here that is full of citrus trees for miles and along the sun drenched hills are avacado groves
green tufts of foilage arranged in neat clumps climbing higher and higher
and the whole of it smells of ripening life
and when the california sun slants towards the west the trees appear along the sides of the road like blessings of fruitfulness and it would be natural to see god's hand in man's planning and laying out of the land
from mountain to mountain all is warm and sweet and growing
and one or two words in that valley are consolation
the capital D that demands a fuller measure than we perhaps can give
thanks for the commentary all of you
my own grief was over a friends loss
and my semi loss of a beautiful moment in time
ne-landscape :)
debbie-ideas on those acts of normalcy which are insane given the circumstances
sarah-thanks for the thoughts-it was not an immediate nor a personal death that was bothering me but grief nonetheless not simple sadness
marian-love some of the phrases
"My eyes had grown so used to watching I thought I had all the tricks down
to an art. He slipped one past me."
"the notion that words make sense at all"
these ideas are such a fabric of life
my friend who had lost his wife who reminded me what i didn't want to lose
who reminded me of absolute beauty in simple rock sculptures and a small river
god reminding me that loss is the final arbitration and anything else matters not at all
life is full of these moments and all of us must pass through these dark moments
pass through these dark doors that lead back to sunshine after a time
but it can't be hurried and one must always be conscious of the honor due
hmmm
debbie i am sorry about your step daughter
suicide has it's own cruel rules
i heard a lady speaking today about loving everyone and it was corny but she had a very good point
love is all that matters when it comes down to it
vagracies of life give us all more crazy sorrow than we should have to endure and loving is the only cure
now...there's this valley out here that is full of citrus trees for miles and along the sun drenched hills are avacado groves
green tufts of foilage arranged in neat clumps climbing higher and higher
and the whole of it smells of ripening life
and when the california sun slants towards the west the trees appear along the sides of the road like blessings of fruitfulness and it would be natural to see god's hand in man's planning and laying out of the land
from mountain to mountain all is warm and sweet and growing
and one or two words in that valley are consolation
Mod
pala valley california
i saw it for the first time sunday
i saw it for the first time sunday
Mod
R
amazing place
we drove and drove and i was just in awe
i can still smell it
nice to hear from you ruth
we drove and drove and i was just in awe
i can still smell it
nice to hear from you ruth
Mod
haha
so they are
i've been missiveless due to thoughtlessness or carelessness
no no due to an inability to hold any thoughts in place
they flit about and i am managing to read and chuckly chuckle over your comments
update here
update there
in the barest of brief missives due to time at work
time with grandchildren
time with garden
time with beau
a tiny bit of reading time
before i see to jump from the couch and race to the closet throwing on clothes
and running out the door
even a stream of consciousness requires consciousness and any time i've stopped lately
it's to go unconscious and "...mayhap to dream"
brilliance evades me
and coherence skeedaddles so i dawdle a bit
tasting bits and pieces of prose from this thread or that
recording bug problems on the gardening queue
watching half the youtube sonato on the classical music group
and returning home to language and grammar to listen to the home folks speak about men on roofs and other nefarious and not so nefarious goings on
missives shall return
i guess this one did to your prompting
when thoughts congeal again
and i've rested from my recent labors or recent pleasures (ymca therapy pool, roquefort the cheese of kings, kisses, strawberries, little 5 year old granddaughter hugs, puppy licking my toes and little seedling leaves peaking through the dirt)
mmmmm-it's 5:11 pm
the couch is comfy and my eyelids are droopy...
so they are
i've been missiveless due to thoughtlessness or carelessness
no no due to an inability to hold any thoughts in place
they flit about and i am managing to read and chuckly chuckle over your comments
update here
update there
in the barest of brief missives due to time at work
time with grandchildren
time with garden
time with beau
a tiny bit of reading time
before i see to jump from the couch and race to the closet throwing on clothes
and running out the door
even a stream of consciousness requires consciousness and any time i've stopped lately
it's to go unconscious and "...mayhap to dream"
brilliance evades me
and coherence skeedaddles so i dawdle a bit
tasting bits and pieces of prose from this thread or that
recording bug problems on the gardening queue
watching half the youtube sonato on the classical music group
and returning home to language and grammar to listen to the home folks speak about men on roofs and other nefarious and not so nefarious goings on
missives shall return
i guess this one did to your prompting
when thoughts congeal again
and i've rested from my recent labors or recent pleasures (ymca therapy pool, roquefort the cheese of kings, kisses, strawberries, little 5 year old granddaughter hugs, puppy licking my toes and little seedling leaves peaking through the dirt)
mmmmm-it's 5:11 pm
the couch is comfy and my eyelids are droopy...
it's late and i have to be up again in 5 and a half hours but i'm not ready for sleep
the tv's on-leno who i don't even like
the fish tank's burbling
the job is good enough for work
i alphabetize
which is better than the last job that had me
organizing my corner of the world
i learned i'm not so adept at that
my corner of the world is best when i leave it be
i alphabetize and look for files to put missing paperwork in
most are in hidden drawers and on the lawyer's office floor i think
except i've been through nearly all the loose papers and all the readily accessible files and there's roughly 100 loose papers
and 40 disarrayed files that don't belong to each other
but sit under the office umbrella of our 2 offices and large corral area
i have two terra incognita areas that i'll explore mapless tomorrow for files
hopefully i won't find more loose papers
the job is new and i still hope to match the two
the learning curve is gentle
the work not noxious or at least a benign noxious
i hold no position of supervision or managing or accounting or implementing or developing
but it is work and time is given in exchange for money
how much money do i need and how much time do i really want to trade as time becomes precious?
some
the answer
even tho ruth
who has been where i'm traveling
says there is no answer
is some
at some point it will be none
but there's some comfort even that it's still some
means i'm not done yet
there's still some time to trade
not as much certainly
and never should it be so much
but that is the nature of it
my father once gave me advice i hadn't asked for
about taking photos
point and click before the person has time to pose
well i knew that
but i wanted the three brothers to stand still
look at me and stand together framed in my view
it was the only picture i would ever have
and i still don't have it having left it in storage with all the other photos i've ever taken
and one brother is dead now
and my father's piece of advice is remembered for it's futility
as is my irritation
the tv's on-leno who i don't even like
the fish tank's burbling
the job is good enough for work
i alphabetize
which is better than the last job that had me
organizing my corner of the world
i learned i'm not so adept at that
my corner of the world is best when i leave it be
i alphabetize and look for files to put missing paperwork in
most are in hidden drawers and on the lawyer's office floor i think
except i've been through nearly all the loose papers and all the readily accessible files and there's roughly 100 loose papers
and 40 disarrayed files that don't belong to each other
but sit under the office umbrella of our 2 offices and large corral area
i have two terra incognita areas that i'll explore mapless tomorrow for files
hopefully i won't find more loose papers
the job is new and i still hope to match the two
the learning curve is gentle
the work not noxious or at least a benign noxious
i hold no position of supervision or managing or accounting or implementing or developing
but it is work and time is given in exchange for money
how much money do i need and how much time do i really want to trade as time becomes precious?
some
the answer
even tho ruth
who has been where i'm traveling
says there is no answer
is some
at some point it will be none
but there's some comfort even that it's still some
means i'm not done yet
there's still some time to trade
not as much certainly
and never should it be so much
but that is the nature of it
my father once gave me advice i hadn't asked for
about taking photos
point and click before the person has time to pose
well i knew that
but i wanted the three brothers to stand still
look at me and stand together framed in my view
it was the only picture i would ever have
and i still don't have it having left it in storage with all the other photos i've ever taken
and one brother is dead now
and my father's piece of advice is remembered for it's futility
as is my irritation
Mod
Time is something we all have equal amounts of til the moment we die....how we spend it and trade it is up to us. I plan to keep trading mine for money as long as they will let me stand in front of a class!!!!
heehee debbie
yes
i'll keep trading too
and to finish last night's missive
the other bit of advice my father once gave my ex when he was complaining about work was...
"well that's why they call it work"
and the stream merges back into itself
yes
i'll keep trading too
and to finish last night's missive
the other bit of advice my father once gave my ex when he was complaining about work was...
"well that's why they call it work"
and the stream merges back into itself
Mod
R
yes
i've got the requisite emily dickinson
file crate of it from the
"decades of my life"
there's one "masterwork" and about 20 good ones
and 200 needs improvements ;)
my writing style is from trying to teach myself
natural line breaks in free verse
and much of what i write is stream of consciousness
i've had a few "dry years" of late
and never attempted publishing
i don't think it's quite of that caliber
altho one or two might be almost good enough
i've got the requisite emily dickinson
file crate of it from the
"decades of my life"
there's one "masterwork" and about 20 good ones
and 200 needs improvements ;)
my writing style is from trying to teach myself
natural line breaks in free verse
and much of what i write is stream of consciousness
i've had a few "dry years" of late
and never attempted publishing
i don't think it's quite of that caliber
altho one or two might be almost good enough
Mod
about taking photos
point and click before the person has time to pose
well i knew that
but i wanted the three brothers to stand still
look at me and stand together framed in my view
it was the only picture i would ever have
and i still don't have it having left it in storage with all the other photos i've ever taken
and one brother is dead now
and my father's piece of advice is remembered for it's futility
If that's not a poem, I don't know what is.
R
thank you ruth
i do like poetic language best
little misunderstood bastard child that it is ;)
i do like poetic language best
little misunderstood bastard child that it is ;)
You do write beautifully Moe. Missives of poetic musings...
Now not only are the missives missing, but so is our friend ... anybody know what's up?
Mod
Mod
I think it was the dog noir comment that did her in. Life is ruff...
GROAN! and yet so good NE!
I hope you can come back soon Moe!
I hope you can come back soon Moe!
Mod
She has things happening in her life that involve family, busyness and stress....for a few months at least. Hope all speculation now ceases. We are staying in touch via email so I might be able to talk her back sometime in the future!
Mod
Mod
Mod
i really thought when i dropped all pretense of puctuation one of you would catch me
i even made a few references to past conversations
but the closet anyone came was relyt when he stopped me after one or two posts by placing my name in quotations
then i began to feel a little "dirty" to be carrying on the subterfuge
but when i stopped trying to mask my style
i still was just the newcomer
i'm still very busy but finally have a little time and if i posted more i'm sure someone would find me out by some subtle marker
so dear virtual friends please forgive me for playing a silly game the last two weeks
did anyone suspect?
Mod
Mod
Anyway, as I said in the kitchen sink (where it's a tight fit), I did suspect you, only not of being you.
Keep this "revelation" spirit up and I may reveal myself, too! (Oh, not that way, for all you trenchcoat minds... I mean true ID, but I don't feel so dirty about any subterfuge, really.)
it's coming