Today, I bring you three quickies.
1) I received this email a while back: You have used 98.9% of the total data allocated to your mailbox.To avoid placing your incoming massages on hold or loose them permanently,we require you to re-validate your mailbox to expand your data allocation size.
My response: Dear Web mail system administrator,
My data allocation size is none of
your business! Second, don’t you dare hold or loose my
massages. Bring them on – full body, hot rocks, Swedish, deep tissue - none of
that wimpy gentle stuff. Hard and heavy for this gal! If you get my data box to 100%, I will happily re-validate. Thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3) Another form of art from ash ~
This weekend, I went to a local cafe for a friend's jazz performance. She did great, as always.
At the end, a younger crowd with pierced nostrils took over, excited about a fundraiser show for Camp Fire survivors.
Since I'd secured a front row seat earlier, I stayed to enjoy some spoken word.*
The first performer wasn't a fire victim, she said. However, a strong spiritual connection to the fire motivated her to produce a number of poems that graced the walls and were available for purchase. "Here's my first one," she announced, and then read from a small slip of paper.
"I cry!" her voice, loud, confident, dramatic.
Next, she said with equal emphasis on each word: "I cry!"
And then . . . "I CRY!"
I almost cried. But I was sitting in front. I couldn't leave; it'd be too obvious. So would my tears.
"...cry." Alas, she'd finished.
"Here's my second one." Crap!
"It is love," she began.
Then, "It is love."
Next, . . .Yeah, you guessed it. "It is love."
I stood up and pushed through the crowd to reclaim my freedom.
"Seat in front! Seat in front! Seat in front!" I belted, as I opened my car door.
I don't know, my friends. I do know that one thing I appreciate about you is this: You never post that stuff for the rest of us to applaud or cry, cry, cry. Thank you x3 for that.
Be good to yourselves.
Love ya.
2) Art from ash ~
This beautiful mural was painted on one of the chimneys still standing in Paradise, CA. Wow! Right?
lifted from msn news. Artwork by Shane Grammer, who I believe was the home owner. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~3) Another form of art from ash ~
This weekend, I went to a local cafe for a friend's jazz performance. She did great, as always.
At the end, a younger crowd with pierced nostrils took over, excited about a fundraiser show for Camp Fire survivors.
Since I'd secured a front row seat earlier, I stayed to enjoy some spoken word.*
The first performer wasn't a fire victim, she said. However, a strong spiritual connection to the fire motivated her to produce a number of poems that graced the walls and were available for purchase. "Here's my first one," she announced, and then read from a small slip of paper.
"I cry!" her voice, loud, confident, dramatic.
Next, she said with equal emphasis on each word: "I cry!"
And then . . . "I CRY!"
I almost cried. But I was sitting in front. I couldn't leave; it'd be too obvious. So would my tears.
"...cry." Alas, she'd finished.
"Here's my second one." Crap!
"It is love," she began.
Then, "It is love."
Next, . . .Yeah, you guessed it. "It is love."
I stood up and pushed through the crowd to reclaim my freedom.
"Seat in front! Seat in front! Seat in front!" I belted, as I opened my car door.
---------------------------------------
*Isn't everything we say out loud "spoken word"? Or do we have to say it three times for it to be so?I don't know, my friends. I do know that one thing I appreciate about you is this: You never post that stuff for the rest of us to applaud or cry, cry, cry. Thank you x3 for that.
Be good to yourselves.
Love ya.
I cry too. And love as well. And don't feel the need to shout about either of them to strangers.
ReplyDeleteMy grumpy self SNEERS. At least three times.
Hugs to you.
Sigh. And these are the "professionals" who get paid for their craft. It's beyond irritating!
DeleteMany more than three hugs to you, and gratitude, EC.
Dear Robyn, sometimes minimalist poetry goes too far but at least it gives neophyte poets a chance to loose their massages at you --also saves paper.
ReplyDeleteHaha. Oh Geo, does it irritate you too? I'd love to converse with you about this. You, a real poet. This stuff that people get paid for?! Saving trees is noble, but --
DeleteThank you, kind friend.
Oh hell. Oh hell. Oh hell. It might have been more entertaining if it wasn't spoken At all. At all. At all.
ReplyDeleteSomeone needs to write a book...grammar for phishers and bots. Pretty sure they're trying to sneak into your box. Tell them you're not that kind of girl. Or ask for photos. Why rule out what kind of girl too early?
Exactly, my friend. You know me too well. I need the photographic evidence first.
DeleteLove ya. Mai tai cheers.
"Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!" He cried out as he loosed himself from the massage of her box. Or something. But is it art?
ReplyDeleteThe chimney art was good and put life back into that moment, though. There is resilience in the human spirit.
Yes, nice description of the chimney art. That IS real art. I'm amused by your verbiage too, but I'm afraid I wouldn't check the "art" box for it.
DeleteCheers, Jono.
I like the beautiful mural at your point of 2) Art from ash.....
ReplyDeletehave a great day
It is beautiful, isn't it?
DeleteThank you, Tanza.
That mural is stunning.
ReplyDeleteWell, at least her spoken word was short.
Yes, short. Yet it provided enough info for me to decide to depart.
DeleteThanks, Alex.
Amazing mural.
ReplyDeleteYour seat in front (x3) moved me to laugh and cry at the same time - you should try poetry. I think you have a gift.
Have a good week, yourself. My message to you - get a massage
Thank you, Joanne. Oh where is Sven when I need him to give me some deep tissue? Smiles.
DeleteI don't ever want to write that kind of poetry, so I'll keep giving it a whirl here and there - no rules in mind, except to not repeat the same line repeatedly. That's just annoying.
Amazing mural. Looks more like a photo at first glance.
ReplyDeleteSo many people write "loose" when they mean "lose," I predict that in fifty years or less, that'll be the only way to spell it
It's a bet. Heads, you win. Tails, I loose. Um, wait a minute.
DeleteAhhh, that reminds me of an old Beach Boys album cut called "Heads You Win–Tails I Lose!"
DeleteHa. Love it and the Beach Boys. We think alike (like losers or loosers, apparently).
DeleteI noticed she didn't have a poem that said "I think!".
ReplyDeleteGood point, Wilma. She forgot to do that.
DeleteSome "artists" think they are so hip when there's just nothing there.
ReplyDeleteGiggles! Exactly, Diane. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so.
DeleteThank you.
I laugh.
ReplyDeleteI laugh.
I LAUGH.
I'm glad x3 that my pain is humorous. It really is, isn't it?
DeleteHappy to make you laugh, laugh, LAUGH, Debra.
Love that painting on the chimney--& the artist!!
ReplyDeleteIt's phenomenal, especially given the entire scenario. Thank you, fishducky.
DeleteThinking of you.
Ugg, I'd have a headache, a headache, a headache. Some "artists" are less artful than a fart. At least the latter's smell goes away.
ReplyDeleteThat's a great line, Pat!
DeletePat Hat
Deletespins great lines that rhyme
like ones about farts and art
or freak clowns and street mimes
(versus street clowns and freak mimes).
IIRC, Pat says I was one of his earliest followers (like, maybe, the third?). In fact, I think that's where I first decided to visit your blog, Robyn. I saw "Rawknrobyn," and being a fan of the old Bobby Day song...
DeleteA quickly on repetitive poetry... That’s good, don’t think I’d want it drawn out :)
ReplyDeletewww.thepulpitandthepen.com
It was one redeeming quality of that poetry.
DeleteCheers, Sage.
That painted mural in the ash is Amazing Amazing Amazing!! It almost made me cry!
ReplyDeleteGreat way to combine things into one response, Holli. I like, like, like it!
DeleteLove the painting on the chimney! Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeletewww.ficklemillennial.blogspot.com
It was worth sharing.
DeleteGlad you stopped by, Gina.
Be well.
I hope you enjoy those loose massages! :) I love the art on the chimney. The spoken word poetry, um, I didn't love quite so much. Haha!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Connie.
DeleteI prefer a mixture of loose and tight, I'm thinking. There's gotta be some manpower in a massage.
Happy Friday and weekend.
Loose massages.
ReplyDeleteOh, the HUMANITY!
You think they might be worth re-validating, Al?
DeleteI'm not convinced.
Okay, ANY massage is a good massage, I suppose. But, I think when a woman innocently asks a man for a back rub, a man hears, "Release the krakken!"
DeleteYou make an upstanding point. I'm hard pressed for a rebuttal. Loose massages, tight massages, release that damn krakken!
Deleteyes, beautiful...
ReplyDeletehave a wonderful weekend
Thank you, Tanza.
DeleteYou as well. =)
Ah people who think they are poets but I love your comeback at the car door. I love that mural because it is not only beautiful but the way the chimney stands it looks like it is giving the fire the finger
ReplyDelete