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Showing posts from June, 2013

Smoothie making

I used to be a Goddess.  Not a beautiful white-robed Grecian Goddess, or a multi-limbed, blue skinned Hindu Goddess.  I was black haired, foul-mouthed, sadistic Goddess of the Underworld named hirondelle (yes, lowercase, always).  I slaughtered many and maimed many more, but one of the few to lay a finger on me and survive (he stabbed me in the face and caught me so much by surprise I clear forgot to tear his head off) was the General of my very own Dark Oblivion Army*.  
When he wasn't tearing the limbs off babies and plunging a dagger into my visage, he made smoothies.
It was a kind of hobby, General REM and his smoothies.  You could ask for anything and he would whip it up in seconds, no matter how exotic and fanciful the ingredients.  
Dom and I have started making smoothies.  The two above, made yesterday morning, are passionfruit, pineapple and banana with a splash of mango juice.  
And with every single smoothie I make, I think of the General.
Smoothie making, smoothie making. 


*…

Leave them alone

“There is never any need to get worked up or to trouble your soul about things you can’t control.  These things are not asking to be judged by you. Leave them alone.”
Marcus Aurelius
I got this quote from an article on upekkha, or 'even minded love', on the lovely Wildmind Buddhist meditation site.  The article deals very efficiently on a topic that is both intricate and simple.  Being lovingly involved with the world without becoming attached to that involvement. 
It is summarised in these three sentences: Non-equanimity is like sitting on the shore, watching waves rising and falling and cheering when the waves rise, mourning when they fall. With equanimity we recognize that the waves are not under our control. They rise, they fall; we watch, with love.Watching with love is a curious thing, it is easy to believe you have a handle on it (or the beginning of a handle of it) when times are good. But not so easy when you are disappointed, hurt or angry; and of course it is during tho…

Mud

I have never written a film review.  I have no idea where to start.  There seems to be a formula, yet I can't work it out.  But suffering from Facebook withdrawal symptoms and needing to connect with the internet and the people I know are still hidden in it (even though I can't see them) I felt compelled to write a post.  And going to see Mud was the best thing I did all day.

Mud is about love.  It is about the moment when the sometimes dirty, achy breaky reality of love collides with our childish misunderstanding of happily ever after. It is about friendship,  trust and believing in people, and being hurt but still brave enough to trust again. It is about being a boy in a fascinating, dangerous world full of snakes and spiders, bikes and boats, tattoos and titties. 

And guns.

Mud is timeless, for 135 minutes the only screen you see is on a TV.  Phones have cords and people get phone numbers from telephone directories. People also eat sausage and beans from a tin with so much rel…

Creating some space

There are several reasons I have been considering taking a break from Facebook and although they have all been floating around for several months now they coalesced into a big unavoidable decision over the last few days.
We all have different approaches to how we use Facebook – but like it or not our posts are not as superficial or ephemeral as they sometimes seem.  Every time we log on to Facebook we are playing several roles:

custodians of our private dataambassadors of our personal  brandcurators of our life experiences 

This means what we communicate has a long lasting impact in both the digital footprint left on the web and the mental impression left in the minds of our friends.  This impact transcends time, so what we post today can influence how people think of us in the future.  That includes people we haven’t yet met, employers we haven’t yet worked for and children we haven’t yet conceived. 
Does it matter? Probably not.  Of course there will be moments when it matters, when we …