Sunday, 31 January 2016

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

People ask the most stupid questions. One of them is: Would you be rather deaf or blind? To be Beethoven and getting deaf is terrible, to be the father of Dylan Thomas and go blind is just as bad. His son made this very intense poem to come to terms with his fathers blindness...



Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas 
(1914-1953)

Saturday, 30 January 2016

Just another day at the office

Sometimes I think that no matter how hard you work, the more work is coming your way. Some days feel like this:



Yesterday was such a day. Monday is my day off, but the workload seems to triple at the Friday before the Monday...







And I did the best I could... But some past deadlines kept knocking at my door saying we want to finish, or else we will finish you!!

What would set my mind at ease this weekend is going to work on Monday to do the work that is on the pile "Urgent, must me done yesterday", but I will not listen to that voice. I refuse to listen. I will take a rubber hammer and hit the deadline until I'm sure it's really dead.



 Have a wonderful weekend!



















Friday, 29 January 2016

Sintra

Any of you ever been to the beautiful, beautiful town of Sintra in the south of Portugal? Plenty of people have, I think but I had never heard of it. However, if you are in the neighbourhood, you should visit it. Visit the castle, the wonderful Library and this:

If you have been in the depths of hell, anything that goes down in a spiral feels suspicious. However this secret garden belong to an underground tunnel is not te be associated with anything else than beauty. Judge of yourself:

Entrance










Who would have thought this was behind it?


Looking up
















Wednesday, 27 January 2016

Back to the land of GOR

“Only in a collar can a woman be truly free.” The paradox of the collar.




“Every woman in her heart,” said Vika, “wants to wear the chains of a man.”



The Turian collar lies loosely on the girl, a round ring; it fits so loosely that, when grasped in a man’s fist, the girl can turn within it; the common Gorean collar on the other hand, is a flat, snugly fitting steel band. Both collars lock in the back, behind the girl’s neck. The Turian collar is more difficult to engrave, but it, like the flat collar, will bear some legend assuring that the girl, if found, will be promptly returned to her master….

(Nomads of Gor, 5:29)





“The collar has four common purposes, Master,” she said, “First, it visibly designates me as a slave, as a brand might not, should it be covered by clothing. Second, it impresses my slavery upon me. Thirdly, it identifies me to my Master. Fourthly - fourthly -”
“Fourthly?” he asked.
“Fourthly,” she said, “it makes it easier to leash me.”
(Explorers of Gor, 5:80-81)



Tuesday, 26 January 2016

Dante and Virgil

Such a disturbing picture, don't you agree? 


William Bouguereau (French, 1825-1905) Dante and Virgil, 1850 Paris, Musée d’Orsay

It is painted by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (November 30, 1825 – August 19, 1905). He was a French painter painted most mythological themes, making modern interpretations of classical subjects, with an emphasis on the female human body. He was very famous in his days and as an admirer of the female body, I have to show you these as well:



L'Aurore or Dawn

Notice the feet that reflects in the water... Or this one, this wonderful painting is called Biblis:

Biblis (1884)
 How curious painters like Vermeer hardly known in their time and now so famous, and painters so famous when they lived, now already forgotten...

Monday, 25 January 2016

I was in hell

My theme for the 2015 April A - Z blog challenge was loving submission. My goal was to show that submission is not only pain and humiliation but can be fun and loving and, to give a small view inside our marriage as well.
At the end of the challenge I concluded that it was all fun to do, but a bit stressful to have the correct letter for the alphabet ready at the desired date, so I would begin early in 2016. I wanted all my posts ready before we start so I can enjoy all the other blogs as well.





So now it is the end of January in 2016 and I have started by choosing a subject for this year the famous book of Dante Alighieri "The Divine Comedy". Or like Dante himself wrote "A Comedy". Not a Tragedy where all begins quiet and peaceful and ends in a tragic way, but a Comedy where Dante's trip begins in Inferno, in Hell goes through Purgatorio (the mount we have to climb through suffering and spiritual growth and at ends in Paradiso.

To go up, we have to gown down. A book that was finished in 1320 a year before Dante died. And it inspired people until the present day, it is called Divine later on for a reason.

I am 56 years old and never ever have read the Divine Comedy. In fact I didn't know there were three parts of this book, the only book I had heard about was the Inferno. I have had no classic education, so I have never read the book when I was in school, and the book was (like there are soooo many) on my TBR-list to read. And when I began reading it in December 2015 the idea came to mind that this might be a subject for the A - Z blogging challenge. And so I decided upon that in January. And I have been in hell since then.

I have been reading slowly through the English version and several Dutch translations and I have been listening to lectures of professor Giuseppe Mazzotta over at Yale University explaining the chapters as I read along. (more than 35 hours of lecture).


I'm not sure if I will discuss the complete Divine Comedy or will begin with Inferno this year. It depends a lot on my busy RL that gets in the way not only of regular blogging but of reading that requires concentration as well. Ah well, we will see it's not the end of March yet. Idea's enough. Shall I begin with 1 to 9 before I begin with A - Z? Shall I post all Gustav Dore's illustrations from now until we begin?  For now I just concentrate on gathering knowledge.

There are worse things in life than gathering knowledge with the objective to share that knowledge later.


Thursday, 7 January 2016

Е́же по пло́ти Рождество Господа Бога и Спа́са нашего Иисуса Христа

Today is the celebration of Christmas in the Russian Orthodox Church. The Russian Orthodox Church uses the Julian calendar, which was introduced by Julius Caesar and was widespread in the Western Christian world until the Gregorian calendar was introduced in the 16th century. Most of the world adopted the Gregorian calendar, and the Julian calendar fell out of favour, but the Orthodox Church still follows it. These days, the Julian calendar is 13 days behind the Gregorian calendar - in 2100 that will change, and it will be 14 days behind - so for now, Russian Christmas is celebrated on January 7th.

Merry Christmas!

Wednesday, 6 January 2016

Brown lipstick?

This picture I just had to share with you. Not black and white, but exactly the same contrast as it was a B&W-picture. It's such a pretty picture, the contrast of the black, the ropes that are the same colour as the background. And. Dear God. The arms behind her back. The long sleeves as a decoration for her body. The blindfold in contrast of the dirty blond hair...


Monday, 4 January 2016

Reading again

I'm starting to read again, working my way through some of my To Be Read books. It's such a big pile of books, but you know. One at the time. No rush. No deadline. No self obligated limits.

I love it...


Sunday, 3 January 2016

Taking care of overdue issues...

Sometimes living your vanilla life can take you away from your kink side. Or one of both partners don't want to play. Or something comes up that you cannot play. This morning when we had the house to ourselves we cached up and took care of some issues that were overdue.

We spent the afternoon like a perfectly ordinary vanilla couple. A world of difference between what we had done before. Sometimes I wonder about the split personalities we have (I have) and how it's possible to combine them... But somehow we cope and live our lives the way we want to live it.

As long as we are hurting no one in the process, I guess it's nobodies business either.
Have a nice day!



Saturday, 2 January 2016

Mercy

How difficult it is to be merciful in a world without much forgiveness. Even in our lifestyle if mercy is not your the safeword, mercy has no meaning. Maybe you have to be a nun like Saint Sister Faustina to say these words:

 “Help me, O Lord,
…that my eyes may be merciful, so that I will never be suspicious or judge by appearances, but always look for what is beautiful in my neighbours’ souls and be of help to them;
… that my ears may be merciful, so that I will be attentive to my neighbours’ needs, and not indifferent to their pains and complaints;
… that my tongue may be merciful, so that I will never speak badly of others, but have a word of comfort and forgiveness for all;
… that my hands may be merciful and full of good deeds;
… that my feet may be merciful, so that I will hasten to help my neighbour, despite my own fatigue and weariness;
… that my heart may be merciful, so that I myself will share in all the sufferings of my neighbour”

My eyes.
My ears.
My tongue.
My hands.
My feet.

It is easier said than done. Remember Adyashanti: It is not what you feel, think or say that matters, it is what you actually do. So in the month of

February: I will practice for a month that my eyes will be merciful, not to judge over appearances. I will try to look for the best in people and do what is in my power to help them.
April: I will listen to people who want me to listen and I will be patient to listen to the stories that are hard to tell.
June: I will not speak ill of anyone, not at work if my colleague fucks up another time. And speaking of comfort is harder than you think.
August: In August I will do three good deeds that give me no benefit myself, but others
October: Even if I am tired I will try to do my best to help others who need my help.

I will blog the results of my efforts, not to receive applause for them, but as a reminder for me to actually do what I say to do.
Is it enough to do good deeds in five months of the year? Nope.

But it's the best I can do right now.

Friday, 1 January 2016

The Leash

After the birthing of bombs of forks and fear,
the frantic automatic weapons unleashed,
the spray of bullets into a crowd holding hands,
that brute sky opening in a slate metal maw
that swallows only the unsayable in each of us, what's
left? Even the hidden nowhere river is poisoned
orange and acidic by a coal mine. How can
you not fear humanity, want to lick the creek
bottom dry to suck the deadly water up into
your own lungs, like venom? Reader, I want to
say, Don't die. Even when silvery fish after fish
comes back belly up, and the country plummets
into a crepitating crater of hatred, isn't there still
something singing? The truth is: I don't know.
But sometimes, I swear I hear it, the wound closing
like a rusted-over garage door, and I can still move
my living limbs into the world without too much
pain, can still marvel at how the dog runs straight
toward the pickup trucks break-necking down
the road, because she thinks she loves them,
because she’s sure, without a doubt, that the loud
roaring things will love her back, her soft small self
alive with desire to share her goddamn enthusiasm,
until I yank the leash back to save her because
I want her to survive forever. Don't die, I say,
and we decide to walk for a bit longer, starlings
high and fevered above us, winter coming to lay
her cold corpse down upon this little plot of earth.
Perhaps, we are always hurtling our body towards
the thing that will obliterate us, begging for love
from the speeding passage of time, and so maybe
like the dog obedient at my heels, we can walk together
peacefully, at least until the next truck comes.


Happy new year

Last night I walked with the dog outside and when I closed my eyes for a moment the sounds of fireworks have a striking resemblance with the sounds of war. The rapid pops sounds like machine gun fire, The loud pops sounds like bombs. The whistling sounds of fireworks racing up sound like a handgun going off. 
Fortunately I have never been in the line of fire of any war. So I don't really know if I am right. 

It doesn't matter. We have blown the old year away and it's time to say welcome to the new year. I wish you a happy new year. Real happiness. Health. I wish you will stay healthy all year 2016.

 
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