Illusion

Mark Esposito

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The Song of Songs, which is Solomon’s.

“Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth,
for your love is better than wine.

Because of the fragrance of your goodly oils, your
name is ‘oil poured forth.’ Therefore, the maidens loved you.

Draw me, we will run after you; the king brought me
to his chambers. We will rejoice and be glad in you. We will recall your love
more fragrant than wine; they have loved you sincerely.

I am black but comely, O daughters of Jerusalem!
Like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.

Do not look upon me [disdainfully] because I am
swarthy, for the sun has gazed upon me; my mother’s sons were incensed against
me; they made me a keeper of the vineyards; my own vineyard I did not keep.

 

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Pilgrimage to India

James Gritz

 

“If you do not know, O fairest of women, go
your way in the footsteps of the flocks and pasture your kids beside the
shepherds’ dwellings.

At the gathering of the steeds of Pharaoh’s
chariots have I silenced you, my beloved.

Your cheeks are comely with rows, your neck with
necklaces.

We will make you rows of gold with studs of
silver.”

“While the king was still at his table, my
spikenard gave forth its fragrance.

A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me; between my
breasts he shall lie.

A cluster of henna-flowers is my beloved to me, in
the vineyards of Ein-Gedi.”

“Behold, you are comely, my beloved; behold,
you are comely; your eyes are like doves.”

“Behold, you are comely, my beloved, yea
pleasant; also our couch is leafy.

The beams of our houses are cedars; our corridors
are cypresses.”

 

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Nature Study

Steven Gelberg

 

 

 

 

Judaica Press Complete Tanach

 

 

 

The Heart’s Truth

February 21, 2007

Manolis Tsantakis

 

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I am privileged to work with what we call non-traditional students in the world of higher (ahem) education. Today I met with Kim who is just finishing her first term. She took a course called Reorientation to Higher Education to get her feet back into college life boots; she is a mother of 3 sons, a grandmother for the first time, married, and has worked all her life. She is ready to finish her bachelor’s degree, a life long goal.

The only homework assignment in this class is a writing assignment given by Jay, an astounding writing teacher who can teach you commas and how to discover your own story in one breath.

Kim took the assignment to heart.

She arrived to discuss the spring schedule, or so I thought.

The first thing she did was hand me her paper for the Reorientation class. She said to me, “Please read this and tell me if it is good.” I did. It was about her childhood. She told of a childhood rippling with Cinderella images. I was astounded.

She pulled out one of those black and white bound “notebooks” and showed me pages and pages of writing. She carries it everywhere she goes now.

She is telling her story.

She is not a victim, she is not sad; she is exuberant in her newfound journey. I know pain will come, she is in the truth of her heart and that is good for her. She told me so and my little office filled with her awareness and energy.

I want her to know that she is part of my story, an inspired one that I am privileged to be part of.

And you?

Have you found the truth of your heart?

Be well,

Kim

 

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Monk Mahaparinirvana

Copyright: James Gritz

My Calypso

February 19, 2007


Odysseus and Calypso

 

Greek Mythology

 

 

 

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I love classical literature; it was my worst educational moment when the instructor was dapper and about to retire. It felt like he was massacring them. After working long hours in a group home, I would come to his class in the evenings for 2.5 hours and want to tear my hair out. Or, sleep.

I loved the plot, I loved the messy gods, and I loved the hubris, the tragedy.

They were written in a time when the male figure spoke through form, and that form is part of my love for this literature. Nonetheless, I was missing something. I guess I wanted it all.

I once read a novel based on a classical plot where the tragic hero was a lesbian who had lost her way. I was astounded. I hardly put it down.

Suzanne gives us another perspective on Calypso: What she suffered and how she loved and what she ultimately chose to do out of love.

I will be forever grateful to Suzanne Vega for this song and giving me a piece of what I was missing. It’s all in perspective, and there are so many perspectives and so little time!

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Kim

 

 

Suzanne Vega’s Page On Calypso

 

 

Antelopia Gallery

October 18, 2006

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First Photo : Hello

Second Photo: Femme Fatale

Third Photo: Illusion

Fourth Photo: Rhapsody

Artist: Mark Espesito

 

 

 

 

With You

Turquoise blasts of wind

parrots in pairs flit by

Rages

the world flames

A tree

seething with crows

blazes and does not burn

Calm

amidst the tall sunflowers

you are

a pause of light

The day

is a great clear word

a fluttering of vowels

Your breasts

ripen before my eyes

My thoughts

are lighter than the air

I am real

I see my life and death

The world is true

I see

I inhabit a transparency

 

Octavio Paz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Love…

October 8, 2006

 

 

I love
love’s delicacy.

 

Love offers me
this brilliant sun,

 

 The virtue
of this beauty.

 

Sappho

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I added another person to my list of people to marry today: Annamaria Pietropaola. Seriously folks, I barely skimmed the breadth of her work today. Her page is called: Foto Immagini.

There could be no other name.

If you need a journey of infinite proportions, go visit Annamaria. Do not tell her about being on my list of people to marry, I want to tell her myself.

Martin Cooper creates mythological tales with his work. The Rise piece is from the story of Emergence. Another artist worth visiting for a journey.

Kim

 

 

Top Photograph: Riflessi nottumi nel Wadi Rum

Artist: Annamaria Pietropapla

Bottom Photograph: Rise

Artist: Martin Cooper

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Whispers of Love

October 6, 2006

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Lover whispers to my ear,
“Better to be a prey than a hunter.
Make yourself My fool.

Stop trying to be the sun and become a speck!
Dwell at My door and be homeless.
Don’t pretend to be a candle, be a moth,
so you may taste the savor of Life
and know the power hidden in serving.”

Rumi

 

 

 

Poem: Mathnawi V. 411-414 (translated by Kabir Helminski)
The Rumi Collection, Edited by Kabir Helminski

First Image: Africa Series “Tanja”
Artist: Holland-Hicken

Second Image: Drawn to the Light

Artist: From Wood Song A Celebration of Nature

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This Forest

October 2, 2006

 

i was this tree once

 

this fog my blood
this height my heart
this ground my rest
this myst my sweat

 

in this graven forest

 

 between the places
between lost and found
between birth and death
between home and hell

 

 in this tension

 

you will find my birth
from the root dance
deeply soiled below
trunk reaching for the sun

 

kimsmith

october 2006

 

 

 

Top Photo: Redwood National Part

Artist: Q.T. Luong

Bottom Photo: Kee Beach North Shore Kauai Island Hawaii

Artist: Q.T. Loung

 

 

 

 

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I Live Here (Updated)

September 18, 2006

 

 

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Sunflower Field Near Grancy, Vaud 2000

Paul Schilliger

 

 

 

 

 

Bruised Hibiscus

Anni Adkins

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heather Corinna

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremy Turner

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Share

Amar Khoday

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maroubra Rocks Beach After Sunset Sydney

Jeremy Turner

 

On Any Other Day…

September 10, 2006

..it would be fine to have a broken heart, to have no money, to feel the losses, to loose the keys, to burn the gourmet meal, to be in the wrong  line (The perpetual quest for the right line,that is another purging.), to feel like you have no say, to feel like your love sucks, to loose your illusions, your delusions, to hate your job, hate yourselves, to love too much, to loose all the papers you just graded, a dead car, a new un-registered car, to lose your love for someone because of your own needs, to love someone too much, to not have the rent money, to bounce your first car payment, to lose your job…..ad infinitum….

But, here is the thing.

There is no other day.

There is just now.

Who do I write to about this?

And why am I awake at 3:25 AM prattling about this?

I bet that letter goes to a different department. Uh huh.

September 7, 2006

 Anni AdkinsSea Turtle