Beautiful Beige, Creators in Conversation, Art and Moloch

C’era una volta ... now we’re on to Moloch.  What an odd thing Moloch is ... traditional sources say he’s an evil demon that people sacrificed children to ... which makes zero sense ... in the days of tribal supremacy, children would be considered of a source of incredible value to the strength and power of the tribe, not something you had so many of you could sacrifice them ... and in fact, if you look him up now, there is a growing belief among scholars that he wasn’t connected with sacrifices of any kind.  Now, that old Sumerian bugaboo, Abraham – DOES have a rather well-known tale of attempted child sacrifice on his record ... which makes you wonder if the development of the character of Moloch as requiring it wasn’t a bit self-reverential – or at the very least, a major effort at (“Look! It’s Haley’s Comet!”) illusionary distraction - on the part of later writers of rabbinic texts ... which of course, christians inherited and didn’t even question.

Have been thoroughly engrossed in the Transgression:  Creators in Conversation podcasts on iTunes:  Menton J. Matthews, III, David Stoupakis and the awesome Damien Echols in intense conversations about art, energy, souls, magick, passion and creativity, meditating, creating things with thought (thought forms) ... consciousness other than our own ... external intelligences ... pushing yourself beyond your boundaries and stepping outside of your comfort zone, reincarnation ... sigils of the urban landscape, A Winter’s Tale, doing what is uncomfortable in order to grow,  “poetry in motion” posters on the subway ... just exhilarating to listen to, believe me ... if you ever have the chance to tune in – do so.  I still have about 4 or 5 more to go until I’m caught up.

One of the most resonating points for me came from Damien:  his view of art itself.  He had little use for “art for art’s sake” – people who created something because they thought it made them look “cool” or “hip” or it was what people expected of them or wanted ... or whatever.  None of them liked commissions where they were handed something specific:  “paint my kid sister riding a unicorn with a purple sunset and fairies in the bushes,” – they all preferred beginning with a general concept and interpreting that concept the way they saw it in their mind’s eye.

But as for that “general concept”, Damien’s comment was that it was, for him, almost a snapshot of a moment in his own experience; a relic, a souvenir of a moment.  Something you could look at and experience anew what you were thinking, what you were feeling when the first image or concept flooded your mind and you gave voice to it – however you defined that “giving of voice”:  be it painting, poetry, music, sculpture, architecture ...

In my case ... while working daily on C’era una volta, I’d finally finished Beautiful Beige, and was in the process of pinning the three layers together (top, batting, back) in preparation for quilting.  Looking at it, I immediately remembered the moment it depicted:  I was in North Andover, Massachusetts.  I was listening to the song again for the first time in years ... in fact, the last time I’d listened to it, I had been young and clueless.  This time I actually heard the lyrics.

An image came into my mind with the force of an epiphany ... I saw a woman’s hand, reaching out, trembling, to touch the spadix of a lily she has cultivated and planted in a precious golden cup on her windowsill, not aware of the hands reaching hungrily out of bright starry heavens in her direction ... the lily, having been forced to grow in such dry, airless sunlight, is sterile, blunted and sharp edged, but as she touches the one part of it that is sensuous and full, she experiences her own awakening, as a fire that begins to sparkle in the air around her ...

... and I did sense myself in the awakening woman, whose own unwillingness or fear of experiencing a complete surrender to love, has instead tried to recreate and grow safe images of love and all of its riotous blooming vitality, which protected her and kept her a safe distance away from the real thing. The epiphany was that being willing to love does require an unnatural fearlessness out of you ... the willingness to fail utterly, to be heartbroken and devastated ... but until you are willing to reach out fearlessly, you will never know anything other than false and unnaturally controllable images of the real thing.

It IS terrifying to reach out to someone who could possibly shatter your heart, not knowing what you’ll find when you do ...

... which led to the willingness as this blog began, to initiate the “search for a soul mate”.  And so many other things exploded out of that one moment, my Beautiful Beige moment.

In any event, the visual image percolated through moves, upheavals, family tragedies, everything that happened afterwards ... until it finally found its way out and into visual form.  Part of the rest of the story will be told through the quilting design itself.

Clothes Patterns, Fabric, Neanderthals and Soul Mates

Had the most delicious swordfish for lunch – well, a portion of one anyway – I made it just like I would have made fresh tuna and let it marinate overnight, and it came out like melt-in-your mouth heaven:  marinated and then braised in wine, fruit juice, ginger, leeks, garlic and soy sauce, and the fish was so succulent it fell apart on your fork.  I have discovered I really love leeks, by the way, surprising exactly no one because I am a passionate fan of onions and garlic when I can get away with eating them and not asphyxiating anybody.  It has always seemed a shame to me that roots so heavenly and fragrant and delicious and healthy are the same roots which leak out your pores and have people backing away from you.

Back to the pattern creation:  to my surprise, I found two tops that had the back yoke like I wanted, so now I can make an attempt at reverse engineering them for my first try at a “made from scratch” clothes pattern.  Hadn’t thought of them because they (yes, both of them) had been in the “missing a button” box for so long.  Clothes are really poorly made these days:  you wear them once and buttons just fall off of them.  Found the buttons too, so may actually be able to wear them again, assuming they’re not too big for me now ... once I sew the buttons on, that is.

There was this pattern I bought many years ago – a Retro Pattern from 1952 (Butterick) – which I just loved, although I doubted I could ever wear it ... big, full skirt, that wraps around from the back and buttons in the front, lined by double-edged bias tape that makes this wonderful, slimming line down the front ... and all of a sudden, my proportions are small enough that I can make it quite easily.  The plan was to shorten it dramatically ... no way was I going to wear the full length skirt you see here; I just loved that “Y” bias tape line down the center and the contrast “overskirt” illusion.

To give you an example of how I envisioned the shortened version – here’s another dress maker who had the same idea, although I planned to use  more contrast in the bias tape, but I did love how the dress looked – whoever she is, she did a gorgeous job on it.

So, I found some fabric in my collection that I thought might work, and started to cut out the pieces, WHILE hemming the sundress WHILE sewing on lost buttons WHILE layering We Can Fly in preparation for quilting it WHILE preparing Beautiful Beige for the applique work WHILE staring in dismay at my dishwasher.  (More on that later.)

It at least helped me begin to use up my fabric collection, which I really need to use up.  And while I was sorting through the bin of clothes fabric I found this amazingly lovely rose pattern, in either chiffon or silk or SOMETHING, a very light and sexy fabric ... with what looks like a muted grey/turquoise background ... (you’ll recall I had made the decision to reverse engineer a top in turquoise designed to match the moonstone ring?) and went, “Holy (bleep).”  I’d completely forgotten I had that before I went and bought the new fabric.  Need to measure it to see how much of it I have.

Unfortunately – it seems to be a veritable static electricity magnet, and it’s not even winter when static is typically an issue.  I had said I didn’t want it to cling – I hate the sensation of things that “cling”, drives me nuts – so I’m already trying to think of alternatives – i.e., like lining it, or using it as an overlay – that will minimize any static issues.

Also discovered I’d bought about 3 yards of a gorgeous fabric – heavy hand, brown with embroidery designs on it (also in brown, or perhaps black) – thinking:  I really need to find a beautiful dress pattern for this.  Don’t want to make it boring as a suit.  So I’m still cutting the pieces for the retro wrap around dress ... discovered I don’t have quite the full floor space for it, so it’s a challenge.

I’ve never eaten fiddlehead ferns before ... found some at the grocery store, and decided to try them – will sauté some up today and let you know how they taste.

C’era una volta
I suddenly realized that I had a counterpoint to the image of a soul mate as a Neanderthal ... the image I had of the two of us, roaming the grasslands together.  I loved that image when I first saw it; we’re such arrogant, self-righteous snots these days, we cannot conceive of our former selves in prehistoric times experiencing a full range of emotions, but that image showed me that we could and did.

The counterpoint was written recently; the experience of meeting someone for the first time that you’ve known and loved before.  You may not be bound together in this life, but you realize that it doesn’t matter – they’re still who they have always been, and you’re always connected with them at the soul level.  The reason I knew I’d hit the mark was that after writing it, I sat and read it aloud ... and discovered tears were running down my face.  Not of unhappiness; joyful tears of remembrance.

So, obviously, I’m working on that again, too ... I finally got the appointment with the neuro-muscular specialist, so I’m keeping myself busy until then.

Dishwasher:  I've had it installed for about a year and already both of the screws bolting it to the underside of the kitchen counter have fallen out - within a day of each other.  Just stared at the dislodged screws in amazement.  Now for the fun of trying to screw them both back in, thoroughly irritated that I need to do it.

Last:  Il Volo is now in competition for Eurovision 2015, representing Italy.  Their song?  Grande Amore, of course.  Today’s the big day.  And here they are, rehearsing – someone could probably fix their microphones before the finale – although the small imperfections in the rehearsal are why they have full dress rehearsals.  Can’t wait to see the final performance!

Moonstones, Passionate Love, Sewing Patterns, Vagabonds ... and Radishes

My yard work guy is out in the yard cleaning, raking, mowing ... and burying ... the plants I bought last spring – Korean Lilac, Rosemary – did not survive the winter, I’m sorry to say.  Considering they were buried under 10 feet of snow for the bulk of the winter, I’m not surprised.  Once the snow started, I couldn’t even walk through the snow (it was up to about my waist) to even check on them.  I’m thinking I should have transplanted them way ahead of winter, but never did before the snow started and the ground froze.  Besides one of those cheap planters I bought from Lowe’s started sagging the minute I put soil in it, and that didn’t help either.  It’s too bad ... I loved both of those plants, until they disappeared under mountains of snow and died a cruel death.

One of my new favorite rings ... a moonstone ... I’ve already received one compliment on it – at the grocery store of all places.

Moonstone Gemstone meaning:
Inspires and solidifies passionate love that will fly you to the moon.  Brings good fortune. Assists in foretelling the future, enhances intuition, promotes inspiration, brings success in love as well as business matters, offers protection on land and at sea. 

Loved that: “inspires and solidifies passionate love that will fly you to the moon”.  Not sure I needed a moonstone ring for that to happen, but couldn’t hurt.

Working on Beautiful Beige.  Have one of the two hands done; the violets and the golden cup done; now need the second hand and the violet leaves.  After that, adding a few more columns and appliqueing all of the pieces in place.  It’s actually looking really impressive.

I am also learning how to draft sewing patterns.  And why, you ask, would I want to learn how to draft sewing patterns?  Oh, no reason – sayeth I – except I’m different sizes and shapes depending on which body part you’re looking at, and ... NOTHING FITS RIGHT!  Other than that, no reason.

What I was doing, though, was thinking back to clothes I’d worn throughout my life and really loved.  I immediately thought of two of them:  one was a muted light beige floral swing skirt dress with cap sleeves and a tie that tied in the back ... another was an emerald green dirndl skirted dress made of a nubby sort of fabric.  Long sleeves.  I looked beautiful in it, or at least I thought so – who cares what anyone else thought? – so when the book suggested I look back at clothes I really loved and try to recreate them, those are the two I thought of, right off the bat.  So I had been trying to find a fabric that inspired me.  Nothing.  I was only able to find cotton florals, or satin, or crushed velvet ... nothing that really jumped out at me.

So then I thought:  why not try to match the beautiful ring?  Next I looked up turquoise, green and aquamarine fabric and found all sorts of beautiful things to use.  Now I've switched my idea from a dress to a summery top to wear over jeans.  My idea was: 

I want French cuffs, for one; a V-neck for two, but not so plunging it’s obscene;  I want it to cover the tops of my thighs but not most of my legs; I want the material to be flowing but not clingy, or starchy or stiff.  I want it to hang straight in the back, like with those pleats from the shoulders, or from the yoke.  I want it to be classy and sensuous, but not provocative or tasteless.  I’m trying to design it in my head ... but I’m not a clothes designer on paper; I’m not a sketch artist, I only see it visually.  Is this all too much to ask?

Apparently it was, because the book said to try and sketch it out on paper first.  THIS should be entertaining.  I could see THAT sketch in my head, easily enough: “Stick figure with turquoise shirt.”  I’m sure I’ll become a true fashion designer with that memorable design, trust me.  (Why do I do this to myself?  Tackle projects that drive me nuts because they're so out of my skill set?)

Next comes the fun part of trying to measure body parts I couldn’t quite reach.  Nothing like twisting yourself into knots trying to run a tape measure down your own back, or across the backs of your own shoulders.

But while I twist myself into a pretzel, back to finding recipes that use all parts of the ingredients, I had purchased some fresh radishes to use in a salad, and discovered that radish leaves are an absolutely heavenly “green” ... why on earth did I ever discard them in the past?  They’re wonderful!  Note:  soak them a little more thoroughly before consuming them.  And I think they’d make a delicious pesto.

“Radish greens appear alongside broccoli and kale in a list of vegetables that contain high levels of anti-cancer compounds called sulporaphane indoles in the book "Healthy Longevity Techniques: East-West Anti-Aging Strategies," by Joseph P. Hou, Ph.D. A study published in the February 2004 issue of the "International Journal of Food Science and Nutrition" found that greens from wild radishes showed considerable free radical scavenging ability. Researchers recommend increased consumption of radish and other vegetable greens to promote antioxidant activity.  Radish greens contain as much as six times the vitamin C content of the roots. The trace mineral molybdenum is also present in radish greens, as are potassium and the B-complex vitamin folic acid. Add radish greens to your fruit smoothies, says Victoria Boutenko in the book "Green Smoothie Revolution: The Radical Leap Towards Natural Health." Their fiber helps slow the absorption of sugar from the fruit and their nutrients add to the nutritional value without adding significantly to the calorie count.”

So there you go.  And who knew?  I just have always loved fresh radishes.  When I was younger, Mom grew them in her garden – I used to rinse them off with a garden hose and eat them right out of the ground.  The best!  In fact, I should grow those.  Provided I don't kill them off, too.

Now I haven't said much about the pub show after Westerly ... this was not a public concert, this was a Cowsill family reunion and celebration, in a private room in a Newport, Rhode Island pub. Ninety minutes of the entire family singing for and entertaining each other and having a wonderful time.  Below, you're seeing a performance by Tim Brooks (a Cowsill cousin) who sings locally around Newport, singing "Vagabond", a song written by Billy Cowsill.  He's backed up by Bob Cowsill on vocals and guitar,  John Cowsill on drums and Del Cowsill (Billy's son, playing Barry Cowsill's bass).  Bob's funny opening remark, directed at the backseat driver musicians and musical arrangers among his many talented relatives, "Look, all of you Tim folks who know his voice who think you need to tell us how to play for him?  Sit down!" - cracked everybody up.  Enjoy.

Disorder, Chaos, Orthotics and Pride

Trying to get my life organized.  I’m off to the orthotics people to test a leg brace tomorrow; suspect it won’t be the right one and I’ll need to have my leg molded for the permanent one, which will take another long period of time to get back - and then need to drive up to Portsmouth again to get it.

I’m getting my car looked at tomorrow.  Too many things all at once. Getting the car detailed on either Tuesday or Wednesday, can’t remember which one.  Have physical therapy one day next week; can’t remember which day.  I have an appointment calendar somewhere; can’t find it at the moment.  Have been wasting fabric and time screwing up the applique portion of Beautiful Beige; can’t seem to get it right for the life of me.  Have no idea why things are so chaotic at the moment; it feels like New York City and The Cutting Room all over again.

I thought I would have a leg brace by now; I don’t.  So I’m back to needing to struggle my way around Westerly, Rhode Island without one next weekend.  Just like New York City.  And how well I remember the physical problems I had after New York.

Meanwhile ... ahh, the fun of researching ... I realized that at some point I would need to get some background on Milton’s belief in the character of Satan to begin with.  Since I pay next to no attention to that particular character, one way or the other, I went and read up on what various groups of people have to say about him ... and if that wasn’t a messy and confusing collection of opinions, I can’t tell you what is.  You have christians squealing “Eeek!” and running around in circles like chickens with their heads chopped off, and you have satanists squealing “Yay!” and making him sound like the greatest thing since the invention of the wheel.  Was actually hoping for a more rational, reasonable, unemotional approach.  Origins?  History?

I eventually looked up various books written on the subject, and ordered two of them – my interest was in the historical background of the concept, not the generally hysterical fear or glee that some people get themselves bound into knots over ... those people you end up feeling (somewhat) sorry for, as it must be awful to live your lives in such fear all the time.

My own thoughts on the subject?  He exists for those who believe he exists; for those of us who don’t, he’s irrelevant.  And the character is more of an archetype.  You create him in your own mind because you’re told to when you’re too young to question it, or because he meets a need that is already inside of you to begin with.  Or, as Milton himself wrote:  “The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

You want to run around being a serial killer, you invent someone who propels you into it, because you need to. 

The Luciferians are another breed altogether – they don’t buy into the Satanic thing; they do believe in the Morning Star being; one of light and radiance.  So, as I said, there are a lot of different thoughts on the subject; and trying to wade through all of it can start your eyeballs rolling around in your head.  You start looking for individual threads to start untangling the mess.  Not an easy task, believe me.

I did know that the concept is believed to have originated with both the Zoroastrian concepts of dark and light that infiltrated Jewish tradition during their Babylonian exile, and in a confused mistranslation of references to the “Morning Star” (hence the name of Lucifer – Bright Star, Morning Star, etc.) which seems a rather inappropriate name for the being eventually saddled with the “root-of-all-evil” moniker.  And that christians took this and literally ran with it ... they absolutely adored the concept of an entirely evil creature to hang their dark, shameful sins on.  That wasn’t me, the Devil made me do it!

So how did this being – whose brilliance was so intense that he was named after a bright morning star, and who even resided in the heavenly realms long after ancient scrolls were incorporated into the Torah – come to personify the changes in people’s beliefs that transformed a being who was a brilliant denizen of the heavenly realms to a being who scares the (bleep) out of people and yet makes them do horrible things?

And which version of him was Milton looking at or envisioning, as he wrote Paradise Lost?  The beliefs of Milton’s time had their own flavoring ... the beliefs of the American fundamentalists today may not match Milton’s.

I may have missed something in all of those pages, but it seems like his big crime was “pride”.  Really.  Pride?  That’s what did it – that’s what precipitated the gigantic “fall”?  Do you have any idea how many people on the planet are guilty of the same thing, if not worse levels of it?  Hell, the asshole who cuts you off on the highway and the woman too fat and lazy to wheel her shopping cart into the shopping cart bay are both guilty of the same thing:  the underlying belief that their needs surpass everyone else’s needs – at its most basic level:  pride.

Everyone knows someone who believes that they exist at the center of everyone else’s universe ... which is another form of pride.  People who post their opinions as standards that everyone else should aspire to – yet another form.  Your local gym is packed to the walls with people admiring their own physiques; everyone knows a manager who practically oozes arrogance out of his or her pores.  Let’s face it – the whole planet is practically waterlogged with people who have the same issue that Satan  supposedly did:  a seriously overinflated sense of themselves – and that includes the a lot of the same people I mentioned above who are running around flapping their hands and squealing “Eeek!” at the very mention of his name.  And this was his big crime?  It almost makes you laugh, when you think about it.

My favorite current example of overweening pride came from (naturally) an American fundamentalist who witnessed the devastation caused by the earthquake in Nepal and tweeted:  “Praying 4 the lost souls in Nepal. Praying not a single destroyed pagan temple will b rebuilt & the people will repent/receive Christ.”

The revulsion that tweet generated was global, because it was such an evil thing to think – much less say out loud – and, practically dripping with arrogance, horrified and disgusted just about everyone other than other American fundamentalists.  I don’t think even “Satan” has ever been credited with a quote that awful.  So congratulations to the Santa Clarita, California author of that – for surpassing the big bad guy who supposedly experienced a great “fall” for even less arrogance and pride than that one tweet evinced.  Everyone has been hearing how California is running out of water.  And yet, you don’t see the millions of Hindus and Buddhists tweeting that obviously his beliefs generated a terrifying drought in the State of California, so he should come around to their way of thinking, do you?  Ought to tell you something, right there.  Insufferable pride.  In his case, a nauseating degree of it, and an utter lack of compassion his own deity would have found horrifying.

Needless to say, I look forward to doing a bit more research into the subject ...

Am now the proud owner of the most beautiful ring – a rose quartz in the shape of a teardrop, which means, according to some site which I have forgotten to credit:  “Innocence. Will help you to link with the confidence of your inner being and be grounded with the earth.”  The rose quartz is supposed to attract love, so the combination of the two should ... attract love, but enable me to retain my innocence, which almost sounds like a false impression of unbroken virginity?  Okay, maybe not such a good interpretation.  And okay, I feel neither innocent, confident in my inner being or grounded at the moment – but wow, does it ever look nice on my finger!  Let’s hope I don’t break the nail again, shall we?  Breaking nails right and left does not do a lot for my confidence – in either my inner or outer being.

But maybe it will attract the perfect lover, who doesn’t care that (a) my innocent and confident demeanor exists only in my ring, (b) I have dirt on my shoes (well, I am ‘grounded with the earth’, right?), and (c) my nails may or may not be broken?  I like that possibility, let’s hold out hope for that one.

Grande Amore - Lyrics and Bob's Amazing Erotic Lilies in Golden Cups

Update:  I finally found the name of the songwriters who came up with the amazing song Grande Amore – Francesco Boccia and Ciro Esposito. 

Ahhh, and then life interferes with life sometimes …

After the EMG, my legs were twitching and jerking uncontrollably.  Went on for about five days.  All of a sudden, without warning:  [*JERK*!]  … the legs would go flying out in a weird direction.  I just stared at them, trying to make sense of it.  I thought perhaps my lower legs and feet were coming back to life.

Then the leg jerking stopped and they’re back to being dead again.  The regular muscle and tendon spasms have returned.  The physical therapist thinks less than one month before being back at work at full capacity is being too optimistic.  Next, my right foot inexplicably started turning in towards the left foot whenever I lifted it ... and the shuffling I had been able to do turned into a stumbling gait that scared the crap out of me.

Time to perhaps plan the rest of my life as a not too mobile disabled person?  Not quite sure how to do that.  I have always walked – have never been able NOT to walk.  Which is not to say I can’t stand on my feet and perambulate – I can – but I need a rolling walker in front of me and I shuffle at the pace of a snail – and now, I should say, stumble at the pace of a snail.  Not quite what I would call “walking.”

I worked on We Can Fly to keep myself distracted ... had fun with it actually.  First real bout of creativity I’ve had in a while.  Created as inspiration to get us  to New York City and the Cutting Room, despite mutual mobility issues – which now seems horrifyingly dubious given my recent stumbling issues.

Symbolism:  the four center “Wings of an Eagle” block.   Peacock:  Transforming the physical body into its potentiality.  Eagle: "Fly Higher."  Number 4:   endurance, mastery, building solid foundations, determination, hard work.  Grey fabric, black print fabric: nerve electrical impulses.  Red fabric:  intensity, passion, will power.  Green fabric:  spring, new growth, April.  Black/grey/white versus color:  “They clipped my wings, and I can't fly”, Gotta Get Away From It All , (Bob Cowsill, Bill Cowsill, Mary Dean); change in attitude from defeated to hopeful, awakening.  Asymmetrical borders:  partial disabilities.  Bluebirds:  cheerfulness, happiness, prosperity, good health, and the renewal of springtime.  “Bluebirds come up to guide us”, The Cowsills, We Can Fly, “Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly”, The Wizard of Oz. 

This is the center of it, minus the borders, batting, backing and quilting.  Right now it’s pinned to the wall, providing inspiration ... and waiting for some ... haven’t really decided what to do for borders yet.  Quotes are: 

Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly? (Frida Kahlo)
Birds have wings; they're free; they can fly where they want, when they want. (Roger Tory Peterson)
Love and desire are the spirit's wings to great deeds. (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)
I believe that if one always looked at the skies, one would end up with wings. (Gustave Flaubert)
There is nothing holier in this life of ours, than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings.  (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
They clipped my wings, and I can't fly.  (“Gotta Get Away From It All” , Bob Cowsill, Bill Cowsill, Mary Dean)
Nothing to tie us, bluebirds come up to guide us, When you're beside me, we can fly. (The Cowsills, We Can Fly)
Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly… (The Wizard of Oz)
Poor baby, try to feel better, Nothing's bad as it may seem, Poor baby under the weather, Try to close your eyes and dream (The Cowsills, Poor Baby)
I have been one acquainted with the night.  I have walked out in rain — and back in rain.  I have outwalked the furthest city light.... (Robert Frost)

Next project:  Let Beautiful Beige Come Into Your Mind.  Now THIS one ... the original idle thought was to just use the title and create a soothing monochrome art quilt ... even had a sketch of what I wanted drawn up.  And then I read the lyrics.  I mean, really read the lyrics.  Said, “Holy (bleep)!”  And all these years I had thought the song was about something else entirely.

A violet in the field is growing,
You're afraid to touch not knowing
That its petals cannot burn you,
Don't you think it's time you learn to love?
Your window sill is lined with lilies
And other white assorted sillies,
Planted within golden cups,
But is there any diff'rence up above?

Nice, sunshiny Cowsill-esque song, no?  Not hardly.  You have a young woman, afraid of the realities of love.  She’s out in a field, out in the wilds of nature, afraid of touching a violet (the color violet relates to the fantasy world, and a need to escape from the practicalities of life, the daydreamer escaping from reality) out of fear she’ll be “burned” by it.  At home, she has lilies lined up in “golden cups” on her windowsill.  Has anyone looked at a lily lately?

Generally speaking, a lily is “sex on a stem”, and always has symbolized just that:  artists have always used the lily to capture the erotic shape of male and female genitalia found within the one shape.  And these lilies are planted in “golden cups” – something of real value, coveted.  Not a vase, or a planter.  A cup.  Not just any cup – which is another word for the item men use to protect those same certain valuables they carry around with them – but a “golden cup” ... in other worse of the same color as the flower’s representation of the same item, and also valuable and coveted.  The singer is asking, “What is the real difference between the love you seek in the daydreams of your imagination or in the symbols of love on your windowsill (i.e. your view of the world), and the real thing?”  You may see things as either good or bad:

Black is black and white is white,
You're so hung up on day and night,
Is it that important to you?
Can't you let the dark come shinin' through?
A searchin' hand says come and greet me,
Be a friend and don't defeat me,
You say that the day is lighter,
I say that the stars can be bright too.

Actually I did those verses in reverse, but “I say that the stars can be bright too.” – what you see as something dark and fearful, can actually bring you as much pleasure as sunlight.  Or something along those lines.

Anyway, I looked at the primary lyricist and thought, “Wow, no wonder I thought he was so (bleeping) hot!”  Have no idea when Bob Cowsill came up with those lyrics, but I just sat here with my mouth open.  The song first appeared on their We Can Fly album (MGM Records – 1968), so he had to be – what?  Had to be 18? 19? And somehow that kid came up with an astoundingly erotic and adult love song.  How did he do that?  He was just out of high school!  Inspirational, too – I’m re-thinking the entire Beautiful Beige art concept into something far more Georgia O’Keefe-ish than monochromatic.

My PC also came down with a huge virus.  Not quite sure how it happened – I’m always extremely careful about clicking on unknown links without checking and vetting sources first.  But the weirdest thing happened:  all of a sudden, without having clicked on anything,  I get an IM message from the Kinks Official Fan Club:  “We have accepted your request to join us.”  I said, “Huh?  I never requested to join any Kinks Official Fan Club …”

… and then my mouse cursor went wonky on me, as though someone else had ahold of it and was trying to click elsewhere … I disconnected the cable, shut down immediately and took the PC to Staples – it was still under a service contract … being without my PC for 3 days was a major pain in the … well, I’m sure everyone has been there at one time or another. Then it turns out whatever scrubbing they did had disabled my online access, so I had to drag it back in ... such fun.  It also disabled my video converter, but when I re-downloaded THAT, I ended up with a Bing search page, which I can’t get rid of to save my life, no matter how many times I change the Home Page in the control panel.

There are days when I just hate computers in general.

Hair.  After the last nightmare with a haircut, when I ended up looking like the butch-est looking creature since Gertrude Stein and completely devastated, I haven’t had it cut since – and it strikes me as amazing that I haven’t had it cut in almost three years and it isn’t down to my waist yet.  It’s about halfway down my back.  I do need it cut, but ... what to do.  Shag, layered?  I have no idea what my hair will tolerate at this point – I know it definitely doesn’t hold a curl.  I was even thinking of a French braid or twist if I could figure out how to pull that off.