Perspectives

Since writing regularly, I am noticing what I think are attractive scenes, snappy views of buildings, people, flowers, ducks, and so much else.  I have taken many photographs over the past nine months, more than over many years.  Taking pictures helps me express the world’s beauty and art, and capture aspects of life.  It also gives me an opportunity to write captions.  Drafting a few descriptive or funny words or a phrase or short sentence about a photo is a challenge I like.  It’s a way to add words to life, to write a little and be creative.  I have considered taking some photography classes.  A few of my pics are good, I think, but a class or two on the rudiments would be helpful.  Until then, I’ll keep snapping.  If nothing else, it’s fun.

Lately, I’ve become interested in perspectives, lines that fade into the distance.  Here are a few of those shots, and a link at the end to see more.

Windows for all

Continue reading

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I Love the Swiss

Chocolate, cheese, wine, Raclette,
Cigars, cognac, better yet!
Tenderloin, brats, can’t miss
Gosh I really love the Swiss!

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Among the Liberators – House of the Americas (Yes, it’s o.k. to take a closer look.)

Striking the keynote for the walk

With majestic oaks and elms a pedal-point, Virginia Avenue’s  theme is the Americas.  Look a little deeper to see other related themes: oppression, liberation, freedom, deeper, hidden melodies woven into this street’s song.  Striking the first chord at the beginning of the walk, its corner touching the 1700 block of Virginia Avenue, is the House of the Americas, the lovely, impressive Beaux Arts headquarters of the Organization of American States.  A visitor to Washington could easily miss this luscious little building.  It took me a while to focus on it.  The place has a distant feel, like the off-limits, gated and guarded estate of a famous person or an eccentric rich recluse.  Besides not being readily noticeable, at least from Constitution Ave or Virginia, The House of the Americas must compete with its famous neighbors, the Washington Monument and the White House.  What itinerary of D.C. includes the OAS headquarters?   Plus it isn’t obviously public, though I have confirmed with someone who works there that it’s o.k. to wander around a bit.  I have been on the grounds several times and discovered  it’s not only public enough to be accessible but also well worth a little side trip off our main squeeze, Virginia Avenue, even though you’re barely twenty steps into the walk.  Continue reading

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Tweets

Are you reading
all my tweeting?

Keep an eye on: The Life Literary on Twitter.

You can read the two most recent tweets at the top of the right-hand column on this blog’s homepage.

(More about Twitter as a part of literary living.)

(Still More)

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The Llama

Ogden Nash

The one `L’ llama, he’s a priest.
The two `L’ llama, he’s a beast.
And I will bet a silk pajama,
There isn’t any three `L’ llama.’

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The Guppy

Ogden Nash

Whales have calves,
Cats have kittens,
Bears have cubs,
Bats have bittens,
Swans have cygnets,
Seals have puppies,
But guppies just have little guppies.

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Before the Fall

I usually look around and find too much time has gone by too quickly, startled it’s as late as it is, but not right now.  These days seem to drag slowly by, one…by…one.  Summer is over but not yet, really.  Wonderful fall is around the corner but it hardly seems so.

Summer sits in its rocking chair, a quilt over its legs, regaling the children sitting at its feet with stories of days at the beach, buckets full of tomatoes, late summer sunsets.  It’s like I’m politely nodding, listening to the season we’ve loved so much, now almost spent, waiting, waiting, waiting for autumn.  Each day teases me with hints of fall: cooler evenings, raucous cricket choruses, one tree out of a thousand its leaves changing.  Still, summer lingers.  Is it my over-active imagination, or do the leaves look a little droopy, almost tired, from long months of photosynthesizing sunlight into energy.  Can’t we green chlorophyll cells quit working now and fade away to reveal our colorful but shy red, yellow, and orange brethren?

School is in.  Summer vacations are over.  Tans are fading and digital photos of dad, mom, and the kids at the Grand Canyon, or Yellowstone, or Times Square wait on memory cards to be printed and pasted carefully into albums, yet summer refuses to leave.  I feel ready for the change, ready to be wearing jackets against the growing coolness of the air, ready to marvel at the leaves, ready to recite poems of autumn.  I am anxious for the burning leaf smoke smell in the air and the cool taste of apple cider on my lips.  Continue reading

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Duck 18

The Duck-a-log

 

Duck Series Gallery

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Buying Meat: From Hebrew Burbs to Old City Meat Alley

June, 2006

Hello from Jerusalem!

Buying good meat here has been a challenge and I’m not just talking pork which is very tricky to obtain though I’ve found ways.  We’re not huge meat eaters but when we do partake we like it tasty and not too expensive.  I’ve been through several meat purchasing phases and finally, after nearly two years here I think I’ve figured it out.  So maybe this last year and a few months we might be able to enjoy decent, affordable meat.

The first year here we lived in the suburbs five minutes from a big, chain store supermarket where the meat section was filled with large, unidentifiable-to-me hunks of beef, very dark red with little marbling and no uniform shape or cut I recognized.  I now realize I could have asked for specific cuts like fresh steak or ground beef, except that I didn’t and still don’t speak Hebrew, and the butchers spoke scant English.  I tried frozen, prepackaged, uniformly rounded “steaks” but they were hardly good enough even for stewing.  We wonder if kosher meat slaughtering makes it taste different to us.  Whatever the reason, we weren’t thrilled with much meat we ate, except for fresh chicken which is hard to mess up.  And of course they sold no pork, which we were starting to crave after a few months here.  And then I discovered Iwo’s.

When I found Iwo’s Butcher in downtown Jerusalem I felt like I had stepped into a smoked meat scented paradise.  Continue reading

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Like Eskimos to Snow are We With Words

First of all, I’m pretty sure the Eskimo reference is a myth.  I think it’s a misunderstanding that Eskimos have fifty words for snow.  I read recently that their language uses many different word endings to denote tense, mood, number, possibly even use in a sentence (object? subject?).  Somebody misunderstood the endings, mistaking one word in different forms for many words and so, the fifty-Eskimo-words-for-snow myth was born.  Whether it’s true or not really doesn’t matter to me.  I like the idea that people who live in, with, and surrounded by a lot of snow would develop many different words to express the many different forms of the white stuff: fine, powdery, heavy, new, old, wet, and, well, you get the idea.

In my day job we make intensive use of words.  Words, nicely arranged, are our product.  We not only use them, we practice a fine and careful precision in how we use them.  Sometimes, we need to remind people about things for which we’re waiting to hear an answer.  Other times, we are broaching a completely new issue.  At times, we’re actually asking for something, like a piece of information.  The other day, my boss asked me to call so-and-so to engage him on a particular topic.  He was simply saying to discuss the issue with that particular interlocutor though to do it, perhaps, in an artful, nicely put way.  Me being who I am and loving word play as I do, I started listening for the words we use to describe how we interact with others about a particular topic and decided to start a collection.  (Humorously, I checked the list, below, and neither remind nor broach, two words I used earlier in this paragraph, are on the list.  I’m going to add them both.) Continue reading

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