Friday, November 13, 2009

A Video-poem that is part of a quartet I wrote based on a poem by Yeats.

I have been holding back on posts here as I feel that I don't want to post any more of the Novel before I finish it and send it off for publication; when ever that time comes. This is what I did this past week when I was actually home for a change and feeling creative:





The last line was the first line of the WB Yeats poem "There." It is my intention to write 3 more poems that end in the next 3 lines of the same poem. The object being to write towards a predetermined conclusion rather that from a starting point. An exercise to test myself if you will. :`)


`·.,,  ><(((º>

obeedúid~

11/Nov/09

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The Lord just saved my butt again...

I should have known when I spilled my coffee @ Church Council!

When I got home tonight I let the dog and cat play in the stairwell, so they wouldn't get up at the window and pull down my clean curtains looking for me; out the front window while I was in the Laundromat cleaning and closing up for the night.

I could hear them running up and down the stairs having a ball as I mopped. When I finished up, I turned off the lights and headed for the front door. The front door that wouldn't open!

It seems the "boys" knocked down the snow shovel which is just the right size to fit between the door and the bottom stair! I thought maybe it was my vacuum but at that point I didn't know.
~
In my younger days I would have simply scaled the side of the building and pulled myself up over the back deck. I have a bit of a paunch these days so I was thinking that I had better find another way in. So I knocked on the tenant’s door and asked if I could use his deck...

He “stirruped” me up onto the roof from his side of the building. I then walked across the top of the building in the dark along the edge 2 stories up. :0)

When I reached my side of the store I grabbed onto an exhaust pipe and swung down over the roof above my deck... :O

...ripped up my left arm, fell on my BUTT, rolled across the deck up against the rail and dropped my pride over the edge!

I am SOOO out of shape and gettin' OLD!

Just goes to show you the LORD still has a plan for me!

That and I still have DUMB LUCK!

:')

obeedúid~
01/sept/09

(...oh Mr. Bushmills... Can you say: "Medicinal Purposes" ?)

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Things I have absorbed from my "Learning experiences..."


I am an inherently happy person.
Being 99% happy can be undermined by 1% negativity.
I can spend an entire weekend listing my blessings.
I don't blend well with negative people even though I empathize with them.
An addict will never recover if he/she persists in surrounding him/her self with addicts.
Even if you love/empathize with an addict they have to heal themselves.
You can be addicted to a person/idea/concept/ideal/dream.
The first step to health may be abandoning the ones that you love to their own negativity/addictions.
Well-being can be lonely way of life.
Healthy laughter can be a joyous release!
Love for my fellow man and a few hours of good conversation with friends who really love you for what/who you are and not what they think you should be can begin to heal the deepest wounds.
Faith and positive outlook is everything.
"Learning experiences" are in the eye of the beholder.

obeedúid~
30/aug/09

Sunday, August 16, 2009

We knew this must happen but when did It transpire?


I've been told I'm too young to feel this way:

~

Go on with you then:

Never quite comfortable
with bodily furniture as one ages
when the soul tires of its garment,
we cling to the trash and tinsel of our hides.

Wondering why we left our hormones alone
inside the bedded night
first blinding cupid with our dreams
then allowing him the freedom to guide.

Grown old we think:
We knew this must happen but when did It transpire?
Was it simply wild youth?
…or reckless middle age stalking hearts desire?

We knew it must happen this growing old,
we watched it from the choir!
What If we had sought truth through-out our middle age?
What then of desire?

Perhaps that’s why we stood here fast to the floor
our garments crinkled on the armature.
Perhaps that’s why we stand here still
and rearrange the furniture.

You do realize don’t you?
…the key is turning in the door….

~

I don't know, maybe its because of what I've been through lately, maybe its because of what I've been reading, maybe I'm just an old soul sometimes... anyway, whether I'm speaking to myself, or the ages, I've had a lot to think about these past few weeks.

Yeats said: "The Art often expresses what the man lacks." I know what I currently lack, and as much as I desire it I also know that I am doing quite well without it at the moment thank you very much!

Life will change in the next year... drastically: and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with any of it. As much as I know that "The only thing constant is change." I have been mostly happy in my chosen bohemian lifestyle.

Its what I have come to be accustomed to after all!

Judging by the poetic themes I have been gravitating to over the last year what I lack is a constant called Love. ...I am finally at a stage where I am no longer going to settle for companionship for companionship sake though ~

It took me half a century but I'm finally there believe it or not.

I know what I'm lacking, I know the key is in the door, and I know its time to rearrange the furniture in earnest this time...

This may get messy, but I can't watch from the Choir any more.

"Look out world, time's a wastin' and here I come!"

obeedúid~
16/aug/09

Friday, August 7, 2009

Mary of the Gaul's....



At the last meeting of the EOTNP, or maybe it was the meeting before that, we decided to each bring in an object and distribute them around the table to see how it would affect a poem. I was given to choose a broach of "Saint Brigid's Cross".

Brigid, was also known as Mary of the Gaul’s.

As my Mom was a collector of Crosses from around the world; I am quite familiar with this one. In fact I think Mom may have even had her own version of this broach. This is the poem that the broach affected:


There is a sight I must have looked:

I was thinking now
of how you asked us each
to hold you
tiny in our arms

as I reach for the phone
to call you
holding St. Brigid’s cross
tiny in my hand.



obeedúid~
07/aug/09

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

"...Last night I dreamed a dream..."


As I was waking this morning I had this dream: The Adult me was walking with the child me, The Adult me was holding a bunch of balloons. The child me asked the adult me: "Can I use those Balloons to visit my Mom in heaven?" "No." I said to myself "You weigh too much to be lifted off the ground by a bunch of Balloons..." "Oh." I said, "Then can I use the Balloons to send my prayers to heaven so God knows that she's coming?" "No." said I, "The Balloons would be bad for the environment when they burst and fell back down to earth." "Then how will God know that she's coming I asked myself?" "Don't you worry," I said to me, "It will all work out somehow."

Then I rolled over and yawned. As I sat there musing and I slowly came to conscious me, I realized several things. The adult me was the me of my mature faith. The child me was the one who still believes in happily ever after.

And the Balloons? Well, the Balloons are my posts, the Balloons are my poems, and the Balloons are you too!

If you are reading this, and you think a thought, feel a feeling, say a prayer: then God will know that Mom is on her way.

"Don't you worry," I said to me, "It will all work out somehow."

obeedúid~
29/july/09

Sunday, July 26, 2009

In memory of my Mom:



Looking at the table to keep the memory of it living:

There being no hedge or fence round time
you can go back, have what you like

you can be the child that was
dipping at the well of remembrance

you can still feel how it felt
as though you were still small

smell the soup
watch it ladled

taste the mutton with your nostrils now
all those people are still alive

some leaning back with their eyes shut
smiling

some speaking with their mouths full
laughing

and you are sitting in your mothers lap.

obeedúid~
26/july/09

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

YARR! The Anatomy of a search.

I was working on this blog some time back but I got sidetracked and never finished it. When we went to Ireland one of my favorite places that we visited was Ballyarr wood. The reason we went there is contained here. I have been intending to post some of my pictures from Ballyarr that relate that part of our trip so this will should serve as a prelude of sorts:

In a pile of Obituaries and Newspaper clippings I found this clue:

Sarah Harvey nae Diver was my Great Great Great Grandmother and the Mother of My Great Great Grandfather's (James Alexander Gilmour) wife: Sarah Harvey Gilmour.

A Post of Moville, County Donegal,
Embarkation point north of Londonderry.

County Donegal is west of, and very near to where the Gilmour's came from at Killaloo Glebe. Armed with this clue I searched Donegal for the Townland of Ballyor mentioned in this Obituary.

~~~

Guess what... No such location. So I brought up Google maps, zoomed in and crept slowly across the entire county inch by inch. Just North of Letterkenny I came upon Ballyare and Ballyarr, Ballyarr Glebe and Glenview Ballyare.

This must be the place.

~~~

Next, I searched The Origins Network for maps of Ballyarr, Donegal. and this is what I found:

A Map of the Townland of Ballyarr, Parish of Tullyfern,
County of Donegal and its environs.

The original scan was a very poor high contrast xerox. I enhanced it as best I could in a imaging program but it is still quite lacking.

The results for the Griffiths data was a bit better:

Click to enlarge.

If you look closely you will notice a Henry and James Diver listed with map references , which unfortunately do not have the corresponding references numbers 13a&b and numbers 14 a&b on the map. It does however indicate that they were evaluated as having: "Houses, offices, land" that they were expected to pay local tax on to their Landowner/leaseholder: Thomas Petterson.

~
When we got to Ireland I tried to find a corresponding map to actually locate them. It unfortunately didn't happen. (more on this later...)
~

So, what did I know now that I didn't know when I started. The correct name and probable place, of the birthplace of my ancestor Sarah (Diver) Harvey in 1849 at the height of the famine.

From here I moved onto passenger lists on Ancestry.com:

I found a Dever family entering Philadelphia PA. on the ship Jan Anderson in 1853. John, Catherine and Sarah was 4 years of age at the time.


Diver or Dever? It all comes down to what the person writing the name down though was the right way to spell what they were hearing. What is important here is age and the emigration point Londonderry , Ireland.


O.K., so Diver is spelled Dever. There is one that's listed as and transcribed as Dever but when you look at the original it is actually Diver, but her birth year listed is 1844. The embarkation point was Londonderry, Ireland as well, so I decided to go with the info in my Obituary. I'm going to have to say that even though the spelling varies, the correct birth date is more often more reliable in the Obit even though they got the location spelling wrong. I have found that the possibility that someone misspelled the last name is most probably the case on average also.

~~~

More on this later....

obeedúid~
07/08/09

Monday, July 6, 2009

No posts recently...

This is what I have been up to:




That and messin with Facebook....
(see sidebar.)

obeedúid~


06/july/09

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Redemption.

Well, the thing I learned from "Shannon" that stuck with me was this: As a Shell-shock victim recovers he/she gets better faster as he/she recovers. So without going into the details of what transpired at Church and my process of dealing with old wounds reopened; the act of creating this weeks worship-video was over the course of 8 or 10 revisions just what I needed to come out of my spiritual funk.

(By nature this public blog is ambiguous and details are intentionally poetical and obscure in their specifics.)

Somehow I don't think Steve knew consciously when he selected the text and asked me to do the video but it was just the thing I required to connect me again. Funny how things work that way sometimes. My healing process is far from done but presently healthy.

This Video is a "Sneak-peek" preview of this Sunday and version number ??? I may still tweak it if needs be but I'm comfortable with it as is. My older "Yoot Goopies" will be happy I think.




Gotta love it when you can get away with playing the Foo Fighters in Church...

:)

obeedúid~

24/june/09

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

What I got for Fathers Day...

Drunk... On Cupcakes! Well not actually drunk. Actually I got "Baked" after I had Black and Tan on an empty stomach with 2 of my daughter's "Irish-Car-Bomb-Cupcakes" as chasers.


(...mmmmm...The last one...)

Cupcake made with "Guinness" + Chocolate Gnash "Bushmills" filling topped with "Baily's Irish Cream" icing =

My daughter can bake!

obeedúid~
23/june/09

Sunday, June 14, 2009

"Shannon." by Frank Delany


I loved this book. It tells the story of a shell shocked priest who has lost his vocation and therefore his soul. His search follows the Shannon River up one side and down the other. Literary and figuratively.

Unfortunately along the way I realized that I have lost my way as well. I realized this when I read this exchange in chapter 10 on page 110:
Michael the Lion had more stains on his clothes than Robert had ever seen. And the more Robert stared, the more some of them began to look like Lion's heads. Michael started to speak again.
"I have serious things to say about people tracing their family. The reason we want to discover our ancestors is a strong thing. 'Tis as strong in certain ways, if you'll forgive me, Father, as prayer. Here's what I'm saying. If I said you're forty years of age, and all you know about yourself is that you were born, say, over the hill there, in some old bit of a house, you've nothing to go on. You've, like, no bank account. I mean, what was there before you, your father and maybe your grandfather? Thats as far as you can go, God help you, for you're a poor man.
He had caught Roberts attention, as much with his passion as with his ideas. Robert leaned forward, trying hard as he had ever done to concentrate and retain.
"A poor man." he repeated.
"Yes, Father, a poor man. A very poor man."
The Lion hit his arm of his chair with a thump- and Robert did not start in fright.
"A very poor man, because supposing you did not know who you were in the long-term backwards- and suppose you knew that in the long-term backwards there was a wonderful sportsman or artist or a woman famous for her piano playing in your family- well, you'd go forward in a different mood, wouldn't you? And you'd want to know, were you any small bit like them, wouldn't you? And if you were- well, wouldn't that lift your spirits? Those are the benefits of the past."
The Lion grabbed his glass and sat forward.
"Father, if we don't come from somebody, we're nobody. If we don't come from somewhere, we come from nowhere. And if we don't know where we came from, how do we know where to go."
This pretty much sums up what I have been after these past years. I now know that I am a rich man, with a rich past, but I lost my vocation along the way and I'm not sure which way to go. Kinda counter to what is being said here. Maybe that's why I feel so lost.

obeedúid~
14/june/09

Want to learn more about Frank Delaney? Click on the thumbnail of his book in this blog and you will be taken to his official site.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Train wreck. Turn or look away?


Humans love to watch. We tune in every night at 8 religiously. We buy the Tabloids. Some get the DVD on Tuesday at Wally World or catch Jerry Springer on lunch in the Break-room.

As long as its not our own train wreck its great!

~

What is privacy in today's world? Is it your SSI Number or your intimate feelings? Everyone defines this one differently.

When dose honesty preclude private? Especially if your private is not mine?

You can try to gauge someone Else's feelings but the odds are you're going to be wrong sometimes.

~

With love comes curtain obligations that come with the territory. When someone dose something unpleasant, it can affect you more than you realize. Particularly if you love them!

Timing is everything.

It can be extremely difficult to forgive someones actions if they are unaware of the offense or transgression. They may continue to offend without knowing.

Integrity is everything too.

~

What ever your position, you can at least learn from it.

"Just because you're a Republican doesn't mean I don't love you!"

"Just because you're a Liberal doesn't mean I think you're a jerk!"

~

The way I see it:

"You make love; you die. Hopefully you make love more than you die."


obeedúid~
10/june/09

Sunday, June 7, 2009

The Roller-coaster ride gets weirder....


Friday night, Mom was so bad the Nurse made a special run to St. Peters for Morphine. My brother woke us all up at around 4 a.m.

On Saturday My sister in-law came in from Syracuse, her Mom came over from next door, My sister flew in from Florida shortly after Noon.

We were all there. It was not looking good.

~

Then my sister took charge. Saturday afternoon and night she managed to get Mom to stabilize; and admit that she was not sure that she had been taking all the Meds that she needs.

Today, Sunday, Mom is taking meals and sitting up again. She is doing the Nebulizer again and looks 100% better.

This is a process. It will not stop, but it seems to not be as far along as My brother and the Nurse thought. As long as Mom dose what she is supposed to do.

So now we go from a part time aid to a full time aid. Someone who can make sure Mom is taking things when she is supposed to all the time.

Admittedly some of this is confusion. (Did I take it? I did didn't I?) Not unheard of in these circumstances.

~

We went from the brink and back in a wink. Things will only continue to progress. The long road continues. I am relieved as are we all that what we anticipated did not come to pass, but I never cared for Roller-coasters like some people do.

I have to admit my capacity for empathy makes this harder. I cant stand to see anyone I love suffer, least of all my Mom.

I don't think she ever cared for Roller-coasters either. I do however seem to remember My Nana doing something similar to my Mom. Mom did the same thing with her that my sister did: put her foot down and laid down the law.

We none of us ever fall far from the tree.

~

When my time comes, I am going to wander off into the woods, climb a mountain, lay down and go to sleep.

Send out the Saint Bernard dogs and Fill them up with Guinness if you want me to co-operate, 'cause I can be a "Stubborn Thick Mick" too.

~

Thank-you all for your notes and prayers. Dont stop prayin' though, it ain't over yet....


"Markle-Farkle"
07/june/09

Friday, June 5, 2009

What hope becomes.



The Keening:

“Try to breath, just a little bit deeper…”


The extravagance of your breath when lost
to a notepad on the bedstead of a lifetime
of dreams lived vicariously reduced to nebulization
makes every moment scream and cry
from the cavern of the mind.

Around you images of 84 years
the passion
of an inherited fragrant mind.

What remains unchanged
but the beauty of one's soul ?
I count myself decked and altered
knowing that decline must lead to rest
for your aching heart.

As Christ bids you leave us your legacy behind
to weep & wail the Banshee
you find mid-air between sunshine and wind.

Leaving us men and women here
knowing all will pass heaven’s flutter
behind you bereft of dotage
lives to live and courses to run
the road at door opening

“Don’t leave without a jacket; you’ll catch your death…”

obeedúid~
05/june/09

Thursday, June 4, 2009

As I age I have come to realize that there is a fine line between optimism and masochism.

When does devotion become obsession?

Is it enough to know what might make you happy and never attain it?

Can that be consolation enough?

Just when does hope become pathetic?

When does the passage of time make patience a hindrance?

There's a poem in here somewhere.

obeedúid~
04/june/09

Monday, June 1, 2009

Do you ever sleep?!?!***

Not much.

I am a creative being and statistically I have lived more than two-thirds of my life already. I have allot to do and accomplish. The way I see it, the rest of my life rest will consist of creating and being creative. For my children, their children and to the glory of God.

~


Today is the day of Alan's big W.W.Christman Shindig! Activities at the preserve and a Gathering/Reading at Smitties around 8 o'clock. Christman's preserve is limited to family and invited guests. The Gathering/Reading has been advertised and is open to the public.

That may be you!


~

I finally managed to finish a few pieces for our show that are up to my standards. I glommed one piece that Barb loved from a previous show; and I created a piece I will someday post about my Grandmother and her REAL story; and after some techie-wrangling with Tom Carrado's help I was able to complete a slide show of a poem that appears in the previous posting with a soundtrack that will not be heard anywhere else but on my sites.



~

I didn't do a mass mailing the last posting because...

I am aware that because I post so frequently many of you treat my links as spam. So from this post forward I will be sending links out infrequently. You can follow this blog if you prefer by doing so in the new link in my sidebar. If you blog yourself you can follow by a Feeder. Otherwise copying the address into your bookmarks or adding a link to your toolbar will do too.

If you prefer to continue to receive links I will set up a list for those of you who wish to continue to receive updates as I have always sent them out before.

I just don't want to bombard anyone. The site will remain current, I will continue to evolve, but there are enough hits and services that I am listed on so that traffic will continue to this site.

This is an effort to please.

obeedúid~
01/june/09

(***Bill Hamm to me after I posted once after 11pm and again around 7am indicating I was more than likely awake past 12 re-editing and up before 5 or 6 writing a new post....)

Sunday, May 31, 2009

The gift of the my faith.

"The gift of faith is being able to trust God and encourage others to trust God, no matter the circumstances."

I admit it, I don't always do this. I try, but allot of times this can lead me into just going along living life and figuring God has the wheel and I don't have to worry about it.

Well, that ain't always true. Sometimes you gotta lift your head up and watch where you're goin'. Especially if you don't know the road you're on or you're sittin' in the passenger seat.

Sometimes it don't matter if you're lookin' or not; but you gotta look anyways.

That's what I've been told anyway.

~

The gift of my faith is the thing that keeps me goin'.

When I've had a week like I just went through it is tempting to get depressed and withdraw.

Because I have the gift of my faith I persevere. I do things that keep me from sitting on the couch watching "The Biggest Whatever is BIG this week." Some people find it helpful to watch others, make fun of them and in some way feel superior to them in doing so.

Doesn't work for me.

If one thing isn't working I try another. The Pneumatic Thoughtform Project was a bust last week, but I won't abandon it entirely. I'll come back to it in time 'till I get it right.

In the meantime, when the Gift and the Spirit move me... I gotta share:



I wish I had a better voice that was more suited to narration, but alas, I cannot speak in tongues...

Maybe this isn't my best work either, but I'm sure it will lead me there...

I gotta gift see; it's called Faith.

~

There is a great site called "All About God" that I like. Here is a link to their page about the gifts of the Spirit based on 1 Corinthians 12:8-10 : http://www.allaboutgod.com/gifts-of-the-spirit.htm

Maybe you'll find something there too. A gift, that you can share.

obeedúid~
31/may/09

Saturday, May 30, 2009

With the morning comes resolution.


The only things that has felt right lately are Yeats, Church and an Ol' flame I thought had had enough water pored on it to stop smoldering.

What do I know.

I'm going with plan B. The Pneumatic Thoughtform Project is just not ready to go public. I can't put it out there just to put it out there. It has to be right.

So I'm off to Wally-world to pick-up a portable DVD player. My contribution to the Art Show for the moment will be as Dennis suggested: VideO'ems.

The Glass will go back into the darkroom for now and I intend to focus on what feels right.


;)

Markle.

Having Pneumatic Second-Thoughtforms....

Today was abysmal. Nothing worked. I wasted most of the day resurrecting my computer. Silly me, I thought I might like to have a background behind my blog. Little did I know that the free program that said it could do it for me had built-in Keystroke Shadow tracking that I had no control over. When my Virus program quarantined it it also quarantined Microsoft Explorer. Now I don't use Explorer and I never will; but you can't run a Windows computer without Explorer at least running in the background. That's just the way those sneaky bums at Microsoft set things up. Either you do as you are told or your Computer is D.O.A.

Devo and I had to remove the Hard-drive, plug it into his Computer as a stand-alone harddrive, copy off what I could save and REFORMAT back to 2004 from scratch. I have spent the past few hours trying to reconstruct what I could of my Firefox set-up. All of my Bookmarks and saved Links are permanently gone. FUN!

While I was stewing about doing this when Devo got home to help I tried to focus on the Glass Etching. It is not going well either. I am now convinced that this technique is flawed. I have enough knowledge of this sort of thing to be able to make it work, and I followed the provided instructions to a "T" but the results were unsatisfactory.

I still intend to show the piece but I am not as pleased as I thought I was going to be with the end result. O.K., I have HIGH expectations but in my opinion this was a basic starter project. I stuck to words and avoided complex graphics on purpose. I figured I would work up to that.

What I think I will work up to is a different system.

ARGHHHH!
( 'xcuse me...)

Not-so-obeedúid~
29/May/09

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Sometimes experience can be a encumbrance.

I spent most of Tuesday night Wednesday morning battling my own preconceptions. My extensive knowledge of old-school Graphic-Arts techniques proved to be a problem. I made some assumptions based on years of working with similar materials that caused frustrating sidetracks and waste.

Part of the problem was the result of unspecific directions, some of the hindrance was because I read the instructions, realized there was information missing and assumed incorrectly what the solution would be.

Fortunately, knowing what the expected result was supposed to be allowed me to persevere. If I was unfamiliar with the process I might have had an easier time of things, but I am convinced that without my background I wouldn't have been able to work my way out of things.

At any rate, after spending the first night determining exposure times through means of stepping out a test strip, then doing the work repeatedly until I was satisfied with the results; I have arrived at a midway point.

The process having involved darkroom techniques I did not attempt to take pictures of that part of the project.


As you can see I am now at the stage where I am readying myself to begin aligning the stencils to the transparencies that I have positioned on the glass. The next day or so will be busy and intense. Working vacation don't you know.

I started by attaching the spacer/bumpers by aligning them and stacking the sheets of glass until I had enough surface for the text of the poem. I ended up with 10 layers but I may add a layer on the top or more than likely the bottom for effect.

Once I had them in position I spaced them by shifting the circle about 1/2 an inch around the diameter of the circle. The effect as you can steps up and down the perimeter. The poem steps down through the interior in the opposite direction of the spacer/bumpers.

I intended to create a piece specific pedestal but time may not allow for this with Sundays deadline looming.

We shall see what I come up with under pressure. I really haven't eaten well during the process until I had a burger with the bIRD tonight at Smitty's after Poetry. I really have to finish this soon or I may starve physically while I am nourishing myself spiritually and artistically. I cant help myself. When I get into something like this I go into a creative trance and the house could fall down around me. Saturday night or Sunday morning I expect I will come out of this thing drained and with a completed sculpture. Hopefully it will be something I am satisfied with.

I have to keep in mind that this is the beginning of a new direction and this is the first effort. Future works will become more polished/crystallized/honed.

obeedúid~
28/may/09

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

"The Pneumatic Thoughtforms Project" has moved into production!!!


I'm locked down. The shades are drawn. You may not enter the room while the red light is on.


I'm starting the first Pneumatic Thoughtform Poem stencil today.

I discarded my old Photography Darkroom equipment some time back so I had to make do by purchasing a red party light from the hardware store.

I'm not so sure what the temperature of the room is going to be like tonight, when I reach the point of exposing the transparencies.


The Air conditioning is based in the kitchen and circulated by ceiling fans.


Exposures are being made with the door closed.

Maybe I'll loose some of this love handle I've been cultivating


;)


obeedúid~
26/may/09


Monday, May 25, 2009

Memorial Day and I'm just hangin' out....

My trip to Washington and walk along the Potomac had to be postponed due to scheduling factors at Devin's work places. The year 2012 will mark 150 years from the time that the Gilmour letters were written and James fought and died during the civil war. I still have time to follow a chronological walking in his footsteps and thankfully the time to plan it well enough to enjoy the walk also.

This blog has veered from its from its original focus over the past few months and become more of a traditional blog in that I am posting random things that interest me and keep me busy emotionally and creatively.

I will continue to post on The Gilmours/O'Brien's as well, but in November of this year I intend to start a related blog that will contain the Gilmour letters and documents posted 150 years to the day of their original creation. Complete with ephemera that I have collected along the way having to do with each letter and the location of its writing.

I also have letters from my Dad to his parents during WWII that I intend to treat similarly. There may be some love letters around to my mother as well... ;)

~

I don't want to abandon this blog or create a new separate one for my other pursuits. I've become accustomed to being a "Glebe Homie". This space is my place. Where I think, grow and contemplate the world. I'll try to mix things up more for the sake of the different audiences I have cultivated from around the world, but I gotta be me.

Not perfect, hopefully genuine.

~

I went out to the family grave-site today for a prayer and some pictures. I imagine we will be revisiting here as a family soon. When my sister spoke with the folksy curator /caretaker the last time she was up and she had to push for a map that indicated the exact location of all our plots. There were some discrepancies but we seem to finally have an accurate map. There is a row of plots behind this one on the other side of what is designated as a walking path.


I have visited enough of my ancestors plots to realize ours is not the same as the larger cemeteries as far as organization and professionalism. The other thing I have come to see is the importance of headstones and the information on them. I can't tell you what a letdown it can be when you approach a family plot and find no stone or stones.

There is something to be said about no headstone. It can be a valid philosophical point of view; but headstones like funerals are not for the living.

When I find a long lost relative, and their final resting place, it completes a part of me. It makes me more whole. I know where I came from and therefore who I am.



So spread your ashes on a mountaintop, but leave a stone if possible. Not for you, for your children's children.

obeedúid~
25/may/09

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Glitches? We don't need no stinking glitches!

The Church parade float that Steve, Lynn and I were painting most of last week came out great! The parade came off without a hitch. Thanks to the rest of our impromptu committee as well!

The Donut Sales crew netted 100.00 profit for the general church fund. YEE-HAA!

(...the exception on the glitch front was me trying to blo bubbles from the back of the float while I hung on to the banners so they didn't rip in the wind, I INHALED more bubbles than I managed to blo!)


GULP! :0

Someone, (who has chosen to remain anonymous) rang the bell as we passed the church and it was awesome! I got all choked up and thats pretty cool!

~

I have been trying to re-devote myself to my spiritual disciplines of late. As I clean out my body of the addiction to Cigarettes I find I need prayer of some kind to help me on my journey towards healthfulness. I was asked to join the Worship Team again and I said yes. After prayer and soul searching I decided that I would best serve the congregation by creating devotional videos. We have long sought to find some way to bring multimedia into our old-school worship and I have wanted to move in this direction for longer than I can remember. Some road blocks have been removed recently and this week was my first chance at taking the leap.

Here is what I came up with:



~

There was a commotion with a young man drinking and driving out front last night which involved a Tow-truck under my bedroom window at 1:30 in the morning.

Mid-night glitch!

No rest for the bleary-eyed!

~

When I finally got up this A.M. and I realized that I hadn't calculated the planned running out of my Nicotine-Tabs correctly. I was going to sweat the nicotine out this week while I'm on "Vay-cay" but I didn't want to start this morning when I was under pressure to pull off something for the first time.

There wasnt any coffee in the house either. No nicotine, no caffine... I just gotta get rid of both of these monkeys THIS WEEK!

I stumbled around half dressed and half-witted. Finally I got in the car and ran to the store but the Nicotine-safe was locked and no-one had the key. I drove to Guilderland! On the way back I stopped and grabbed a Coffee at the Stewarts Shop.

I changed my shirt, combed my hair and figured all the glitches were glitched.


RIGHT!

~

This morning in church, after spending much of last evening after the parade thinking I had worked as many glitches as I could between the projector and the laptop, I had unforeseen problems anyway....

First the monitors wouldn't size right to the wall space. (this is one of the things I thought I had already worked through....) Then the choir director wasn't clued to my cue. Not a problem. Pastor handled it with a separate transition.

Now here is where the final reading from (The Message) Ephesians 23 echoed what happened during my reading from John:

"He is in charge of it all, has the final word on everything. At the center of all this, Christ rules the church. The church, you see, is not peripheral to the world; the world is peripheral to the church. The church is Christ's body, in which he speaks and acts, by which he fills everything with his presence."

I forgot to plug in my peripheral!
There was no sound at first! I maxed the Laptop, held it up in the air and started fumbling with the wires....

Finally about half way through I realized I had not plugged in the speakers....

Oh well, we can't bring the Congregation into the 21st Century without a few stumbles along the way.

I think the Lord will bare with us.

After all: "He is in charge of it all, has the final word on everything."

~

Off to Sunday Four Poetry Reading. Glitches or no Glitches!

(I wonder if Yeats ever had glitches?)


obeedúid~

24/may/09

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

I had a flashback today....

I have been thinking allot about my Mom lately. On Mothers Day we spent the time hanging out at the house and eating dinner. Everyone was there. I was going to do a post then but I hadn't put together enough pictures that I had scanned, touched-up and edited to be happy with anything.

The Pulmonary Fibrosis is progressing pretty much like we figured it was going to. Its scary for her. Its scary for my brother Richard who lives with her. Its scary for all of us.

This Morning I was standing in the Parking Lot outside the Store doing my morning entranceway clean-up, when I looked up at the horizon and flashed back to my childhood. Suddenly I remembered walking down the stairs in my parents house before school, smelling bacon, hearing WROW and Ray Falconer doing the Weather and Farm report. Just as I used to reach the kitchen every morning , or it seemed like every morning, they would play "Oh what a beautiful morning!" or something similar.

So when I heard that song in my head this morning I knew what I would do.



Love you Mom!

obeedúid~
20/may/09

Monday, May 18, 2009

In memory of my metabolism....

"Waste"-line...


The events that were soon on top of him:


He somehow finds contentment

among the neo-Lethean foliage

for all his purchased pains

by every woman's temperament

in a cistern of hearts


The chill in his bones

is matched only by the love

handle around his waist

that waited half a century

for his metabolism to slow


If he no longer reaches

the topmost bough

this is yet to show

whether or not he has

thirty years to go


and maxims to meditate

while walking barefoot

through the marble dew

as he will never have enough

of women's love


so must settle

while the body settles

for children's gratitude

a burgeoning belly

and the extravagance of breath.


obeedúid~

18/may/09

Friday, May 15, 2009

Reports of my arrest have been greatly exaggerated....

Last night we were watching the 6 o'clock News. A report came on that "Mark O'Brien" had been arrested for raping a 13 year-old mentally handicapped girl.


This guy has been the bane of my existence for years! When I went to buy a house he had bashed my credit all-up big time!

Now here he is doing the thing I most abhor. Taking advantage of the undefended. The least, the last and the lost.

This is what happens when you have a common Irish name. This is why I go by "obeedúid~". Can you blame me?

When I first went to buy a home I found that I had defaulted on a 30 mortgage when I was 11 years old!

Once, a co-worker handed me and obituary from the daily newspaper with my name on it. If I hadn't known better I would have believed I were dead!

If it can be said that some do good and others do otherwise, perhaps I am working the good side while he is doing otherwise. I hope this guy gets the worst punishment if its true. If they can prove he did this horrific thing then string him up by his thing.

I am compassionate as is possible in todays world, but one thing I can't forgive is the abuse of an indefensible child.

Just because I share the same name with this guy I somehow feel guilty. Don't joke with me about this one folks. I'm not gunna find it funny. It's sick and it makes me want to retch!

obeedúid~
15/may/09

Friday, May 8, 2009

I bought the ultimate Man-Tool yesterday!

An Infinity NV29 Vacuum.

The tag line says: "No Loss of Suction..."

"It has 24 Cyclones to trap dust and dirt so Infinity never loses suction..."


The literature states: "Other vacuums claim to maintain powerful suction, but after just a few rooms they lose suction. Year after year Infinity never loses suction."

In other words: Infinity Vacuums Suck! They suck so good that as I was passing the couch I engulfed the throw right off the couch and into the NV29 before I realized what was going on....

This of course broke the brand new Motor Belt. Fortunately, they supplied me with a spare. Replacing the belt was surprisingly easy though! The bottom of the machine is made to be opened easily so fixing it was finished in 5 minutes. No problem!

Both the Dog and the Cat have bought into the marketing magic. They are convinced that it sucks too!

It sucks SOOO GOOOOD I think if I'm not careful I will be pulling pictures off the wall!!!

ARRRRUE! AR-AR-AR!

(Tim the Toolman Taylor would be proud!)

...and I don't have to be embarrassed by the fact that I am in love with my new Vacuum! After all, its a Man Vac!

...honest...

I think the two of us will be very happy together. I look forward to a long relationship with little or no arguing and plenty of long walks in the rain....

;)

obeedúid~
08/may/09

Thursday, May 7, 2009

The boy with a crack in his heart.

I continue to be heavily influenced by Yeats. The original to this poem is actually much longer than the VideO'em. I post them both here so you may contrast the two. Obviously the self imposed style and length of my videos which the bIRD has labeled "future primitive aesthetic" forces me to work with a finite quantity of words. This then necessitates creating two almost completely different poems. "Variations on a theme" if you will.






How the poet was hit in the head by the rock he threw:


How could he be so ignorant

of the old stone cross he bares


How could he live so innocent

of the world asleep unawares


Loam rises up while

arbutus tumbles down


the ever-changing surface

the loosening of the ground


The boy with a crack in his heart

the man looking back at the start


the wane of love having besot them

their weary souls must part


The naive years

of youth that come to naught


awaken old memories

fierce and lofty calling to the mind


old words

like children who've strayed


If we blame love

we may as well blame the wind


for the infinite shape

of words.



I have stayed away from Yeats for most of my life. To begin with, I have been told many times that we look similar. Over the years I have been told that my poetry resembled Yeats's as well. At this point [age] in my life I am no longer intimidated by the idea of influence. I am convinced that I will absorb and continue to metamorphose as a Poet. I can't be separated from "The Collected Poems" at this point. I carry it everywhere. If at 51 Yeats had 30 years of love and productivity ahead of him then perhaps I will also.

My favorite poem at the moment is # 93 "Words". It speaks to me as if I had written it myself. In fact I have. In many other poems with many other "Words".


obeedúid~

07/may/09