Q & A

  
What is Worth Knowing?

That van Gogh’s ear, set free
wanted to meet the powerful nose
of Nevsky Avenue.
That Spain has decided to help
NATO. That Spring is supposed to begin
on the 21st March.
That if you put too much salt in the keema
just add a few bananas.
That although the Dutch were the first
to help the people of Nicaragua they don’t say much
about their history with Indonesia.
That van Gogh collected Japanese prints.
That the Japanese considered
the Dutch to be red-haired barbarians.
That van Gogh’s ear remains full of questions
it wants to ask the nose of Nevsky Avenue.
That the vaccinations for cholera, typhoid and yellow fever
are no good – they must be improved.
That red, green and yellow are the most
auspicious colours.
That turmeric and chilli powder are good
disinfectants. Yellow and red.
That often Spring doesn’t come
until May. But in some places
it’s there in January
That van Gogh’s ear left him because
it wanted to become a snail.
That east and west
meet only in the north and south – but never
in the east or west.
That in March 1986 Darwinism is being
reintroduced in American schools.
That there’s a difference
between pigeons and doves, although
a ring-dove is a wood-pigeon.
That the most pleasant thing is to have a fever
of at least 101 – because then the dreams aren’t
merely dreams but facts.
That during a fever the soul comes out
for fresh air, that during a fever the soul bothers to
speak to you.
That tigers are courageous and generous-hearted
and never attacked unless provoked –
but leopards,
leopards are malicious and bad-tempered.
That buffaloes too,
water-buffaloes that is, have a short temper.
That a red sky at night is a good sign for sailors,
for sailors…..what is worth knowing?
What is worth knowing?

What is Worth Knowing? (1986) 

Sujata Bhatt 

Photo by J M P , Venice (2012)


 

 

 







 


Mirrored

 There are no lies 
in the morning
no cheating of age

an illusion of eye
smoothing skin over bone.


No portrait hidden away
becoming skeletal
and demanding release.


Another day to face,
my confessor, so laugh
at this charting of years.
Mirror by Adrian Greene
Photo: dresses by Gilbert Adrian at the LACMA

By heart

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,

And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:

Then can I drown an eye, unus’d to flow,

For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,

And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,

And moan th‘ expense of many a vanish’d sight;

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,

And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er

The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,

Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

All losses are restor’d, and sorrows end.

Sonnet 30, William Shakespeare

 

My weekend was perfect because of Tiago Rodrigues’s play “By Heart”

My world is, after all, a place of beauty.

Wrapped in butterflies

Pour M. F. 

A symbol of transformation into beauty and grace, butterflies carry a special spiritual meaning in Japanese culture as the carriers of the souls of the dead and, in that sense, as the key to unlocking the mysteries of life.

Also a symbol of womanhood and romance, the butterfly is a common motif in Japanese women’s clothing both modern and traditional such as kimonos and yukata.

Both the white butterfly as a symbol of selfless and eternal love and the black butterfly symbolizing transition, renewal, rebirth, make this faux wrap Hanae Mori silk dress one of the most elegant pieces I have owned.  I found it on eBay and remember I have waited anxiously for it to arrive, not because of the possible symbolism of the print but because of its meaning in Mori’s beautiful and feminine designs and because it evoked my first fictional style icon, Maddie Hayes. I was a big fan of Moonlighting and Maddie’s easy, soft and ethereal elegance. In my mind the beautiful silk butterfly spiral would envelop me in the same classic, womanly silky chic.

Over time you realize what you are not, and I’m not the kind of womanly woman that can carry a wrap dress or silk charmeuse pastel outfits, for that matter.

I hope this dress has reached M.F. already, I hope she was thrilled when she unwrapped it and I hope that putting it on will make her feel beautiful and true to herself.

I am true to my identity; I keep trying to be myself. I am Japanese, in Japan there is this beauty by itself which has been nurtured by tradition—fashion is an international language. What I have been trying to do is to express the wonderful beauty of Japan using international language.

Hanae Mori

L.A. fragments

LAmerica
Cold treatment of our empress
LAmerica
The Transient Universe
LAmerica
Instant communion and
communication

lamerica
emeralds in glass
lamerica
searchlights at twi-light
lamerica
stoned streets in the pale dawn
lamerica
robed in exile
lamerica
swift beat of a proud heart
lamerica
eyes like twenty
lamerica
swift dream
lamerica
frozen heart
lamerica
soldiers doom
lamerica
clouds & struggles
lamerica
Nighthawk

doomed from the start
lamerica
“That’s how I met her,
lamerica
lonely & frozen
lamerica
& sullen, yes
lamerica
right from the start”

Then stop.
Go. The wilderness between.
Go round the march.

Jim Morrison, The Opening of the Trunk (fragment)

Late Monday Poetry

Photo (mine) Spring Street, DTLA June 2017

Blinding bright lights

I could never have dreamt that there were such goings-on
in the world between the covers of books, 
such sandstorms and ice blasts of words,,, 
such staggering peace, such enormous laughter, 
such and so many blinding bright lights,, ,
splashing all over the pages
in a million bits and pieces
all of which were words, words, words,
and each of which were alive forever
in its own delight and glory and oddity and light.

Notes on the Art of Poetry​,  Dylan Tomas


Photo at The Last Bookstore, Los Angeles, June 29 2017

Flying at dawn

Disconnected thoughts at Frankfurt airport

The taxi was early, it arrived at 4.20 a.m. and the driver was, surprisingly, an older gentleman. Drivers working this shift tend to be younger. His son, who has been living in London for the past eleven years, called. He was embarrassed by the language used. He told me his younger son is going to be a father soon and that his eldest daughter goes to India every month because she works as a production manager in a textile company. He had an empire once, he says. And then it was all over. His mother died after a heated argument with his brother. She had a stroke. Within months his father killed himself and his beloved older brother died of cancer. For reasons he cannot explain, he convinced himself that his wife was to blame. He divorced her. He was seeing a psychiatrist and was put on heavy medication. Maybe because of that he had a car crash that sent him to hospital for almost two years. Nowadays, he just appreciates all the insignificant moments life has to offer. Maybe his children would take care of him and he wouldn’t need to drive a taxi anymore. He is proud, he wouldn’t have it. 

I wait until 5 so I can have a coffee before facing the security screening at the airport. If you ever travelled from Porto, you know it’s terrible, if you ever come here, be prepared for senseless long lines. 

On the flight to Frankfurt, I try to read the newspaper but I’ve only had two hours of sleep and just can’t manage to keep awake.

I have no idea how Frankfurt looks like beyond the airport. I have lost count of how many connecting flights I took from here, but I have never left the airport.

Boarding will be at gate Z 25, still two hours to go. I do enjoy people watching, so waiting, at least in airports as busy as this one, is never that much of a sacrifice.

Four days ago I’ve travelled to Italy with someone who’s in law enforcement and had a keen interest in uniforms. Italian police forces seem to have a wide variety of uniforms that are astonishingly ill fitting given the country’s reputation for sartorial mastery. 

I think this part of terminal 1 is only for US bound flights. The Camel Smokers Lounge is empty. Wien and Zurich have the best lounges for people who insist on keeping disgusting habits. Like myself. In certain circumstances, smoking is a social activity; you get to chat with strangers sharing your (still) legal addiction. At airports, we all look like ashamed social pariahs and we keep to our smartphones.

Twenty minutes to boarding time.