From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

Magick is a tender art, woven from fine and silken threads, crafted by the gentle heart, and wizened, sacred hands.  As the unicorns take to the sea, relinquishing their earthbound form, so, too, must I take my leave, from the bitter realm where I was born. Listen to the sea-wind's calling, beckoning all to come her way, deep and ancient thoughts now stirring, the knells echoing at end of day.                                                                                                              ---e.a.s. demers

The hubby and I cook quite frequently... actually every night, barring a few "let's-grab-something-out-because-we-don't-have-time-to-cook" meals---- we're talking a 3 times a month, max, that we eat out. LUCKILY, we share similar tastes in food. And, even LUCKIER, I have a husband who's willing to be my guinea pig when I'm trying something new that I've never attempted to cook before. Most times we completely agree on particular food stuffs---though we do have a few differences...we just work around these. He isn't fond of mushrooms, I abhor olives--love olive oil, just hate olives--he doesn't like sweet potatoes, I have never cultivated a taste for shrimp---I'm convinced I have a TEXTURE issue (hence the olives and the rubbery shrimp). Little by little, we develop each other's taste and develop some new 'recipes' along the way.... Case in point: Two nights ago, we thought we'd make pizza---nothing extreme, we buy pr

It was a day designed specifically to lay out exactly what I am incapable of doing---- at least at the present moment.... I cannot sign in American Sign Language. I used to babysit a friend's little brother, during the summer of my first? second? year of college. He was hearing impaired, not completely deaf, but he did use signs regularly to get his wants/needs across. Over the summer that I worked with him, I did pick up some sign language. But.... he was 3. Most of the signs revolved around the color of the ball/toy he wanted and what movie he wanted to watch. We really didn't get into any philosophical conversations. Definitely not. There's a part of me that wishes the little brother had been a bit older, as I might have retained some of the signs I did learn if we'd actually tried to converse. Now, however, I usually don't think about it. At least, I don't think about it until one of our deaf patrons comes to shop for books. And, I am disheartened th

The proud and ancient visage, carved from granite, carved from marble, carved from stone, The canvas swathed in brilliance,  draped in ochre, draped in azure, draped in bone. Sets in time, in memoriam, steeped in history, steeped in legend, steeped in hope. All the tools left to measure, the artist's brush, the scribe's nib, the sculptor's point, An eon of life's breaths captured, in a dream, in a moment, in a song.                                                                                                           ---e.a.s. demers

July 7th marked the 66th Anniversary of the Roswell UFO sightings. July 8th, 1947, the Roswell Daily Record announced that the RAAF had "captured a flying saucer". How did I celebrate this momentous event in our nation's history? By playing the Roswell Google Doodle, of course! Was the "object" that crash-landed on the New Mexico ranch a UFO? Was it a weather balloon? I don't know--- and I won't profess to know. I think the mistake (if there actually was a mistake) was when the Roswell Army Air Field (RAAF) public information officer, Walter Haut, stated that the group had recovered a "flying disk." This was later amended by the Commanding General, Roger Ramey--- the group had recovered a "weather balloon." Flying disk? Weather balloon?--- Didn't matter what they changed the story to, the martian seed was already planted.... The imagination of the country was already mutating. It don't take nothin' for an e

It was a random kind of day--- woke up with a headache (though, that isn't as random as I'd like), took some pain meds and went to work.... Don't know if it was the headache, the pain meds, a general lack of sleep, or a combination of all those things, but I found myself in a bit of a brain-fog--- for lack of a better term--- for several hours. Not my most productive afternoon. I'm prone to solemn/melancholy/perhaps depressive moods---part, my Piscean nature and part, circumstance---where I am reluctant to interact with people and generally find myself wishing I could be as far away from people as possible. This wasn't that kind of mood. No, this was the kind of brain-fog that usually accompanies one-too-many drinks, or a decongestant during flu season. But, all I took was Ibuprofen.... so, I don't know. All I could do was marvel at how odd it was to feel like I was heavily sedated without having ingested a sedative.... It all finally came to a head wh

The 4th of July is one of those holidays that means different things to different Americans--- Freedom, Fun, Frivolity and Fireworks--- all those things that make America... America. Two years ago, when I penned my  Optimistic Cynic's Guide To Patriotism  post, I was in a different mind-set about the essence of our country's existence. We are a young country--- only 237 yrs old--- an infant when you compare the ages of countries in the rest of the world. We're the "baby of the family" so to speak.... and we carry the dreaded, though not unexpected, stereotype of being the youngest sibling, with us.... But, being the spoiled, youngest sprog also means we have a greater responsibility for carrying on the family name---- lest we bring an end to our line because we have failed to ensure our posterity. We have the "time" to grow into a successful adult...we have the shadows of our older siblings to emulate, avoid, outshine--- if we follow, or in so

It's official, mega-publishers Random House and Penguin have merged. And, I am woefully disappointed that they didn't opt to go with my vote to rename themselves Random Penguins--- instead, they've settled on the boring---and completely uninspiring---Penguin Random House. Even the equally amusing, Penguin House, would have been an exciting change... I mean, come on... surely a company that is based in the creative uses of language would jump at the opportunity to inspire a bit of humor. No? In other global-literary news, the folks at the Asia Pacific Writers and Translators Association, aka AP Writers, have been inspired to create a World Readers' Award, that will take an author's nationality out of the equation. The idea having been inspired by their feeling that the Pulitzer is too American, the Man Booker is too British and the Nobel is too Euro-centric---- How they plan on making the World Readers' Award more "global" when their in