Read on to enter the world of wine blogging…and wine bloggers!
via Wine Predator
Happy Birthday Bob Dylan!
This imaginative guest post by Ron Wells celebrates the birthday of Bob Dylan. Hard to believe Dylan’s 70.
Robert Allen Zimmerman. In the beginning, or so they tell me……
On May 24, 1941, there was thunder on the mountain, lightning beyond the horizon, and a hard rain began to fall while a million miles away from Duluth, Minnesota, a mail train came roaring down from the sky as it sped to Earth past desolation row, past Mr. Jones, who knew something was happening, but he didn’t know what it was, carrying a boxcar full of spirits both now and forevermore. Everyone needed to lookout, for the saints were coming’ through. On board sat a young Robert Allen Zimmerman. a babe from the Highlands, sitting cross legged strumming a guitar, “call me Bob Dylan” he told the spirit gods with an enigmatic grin.
“Well, Bob Dylan,” said a wandering troubadour, “you can call me Woody, “ and gesturing outside, he smiled and said, “This land is your land, from California to the New York island.”
A hearty laugh from a powerful black woman, was followed by, “You ain’t nothin’ but a hounddog puppy,” and her eyes told him it was Big Mama, Big Spirit, big time blues belter.
“Excuse me, but this is my stop,” mumbled Jack, as he then leaped into the void with a flask in his back pocket, his words landin’ on the asphalt below, “’Cause I’m on the road, maybe Highway 61.”
A Buddha-like Allen howled Read more…
During the past year or so in Ventura, we’ve had a number of bicyclists injured and killed by cars. Our local bicycling community has also been touched by accidents beyond our county–we don’t always ride close to home.
A number of people have been victims of hit and run drivers. Just last Wednesday, a young Ventura College student was killed as he and a friend rode bikes to take a final exam; the same driver went into the bicycle lane to hit a mother and daughter and broke their arms. Our mayor Bill Fulton knew the young man who was killed and wrote passionately about our community and about him in a recent blog post.
Pictured is a “ghost bike” which has been put up on the site where Nick was killed. The City of Ventura has assured us it will be left there, and in fact, there is discussion of putting a white ballard there so that the bike can be attached to it permanently. Cyclists frequently put ghost bikes at locations where a cyclist has been killed as a reminder to us all.
Tonight, bicyclists will ride together across the globe to honor cyclists who have been killed or injured by cars. If you can, please join them. If you can’t, please light a candle to honor those cyclists.
Drivers, please please please watch for cyclists. We come in all ages and sizes. We ride alone, we ride together, we ride with our families, and with our friends. But we’re all just soft human beings. You in your big hulking vehicle can easily damage us and even take lives leaving you without a scratch to your body but with a big dent in your psyche (and your karma).
So please be careful. Please. We will do our part and ride carefully and with lights and reflectors on our bikes so you can see us. Please do your part. Don’t drive while under the influence.
And if you hit something or if you see someone hit something, please stop and see what it was. It could be a cyclist. It could be someone you know. It could be your neighbor. One day it might be you.
I have almost been hit several times. I have been hit by cars as a pedestrian in a crosswalk when the car turned right on a red and i had a green to walk. My husband has been hit two times by cars. Most cyclists I know have been hit by a car or come close to being hit by a car. Since the accident last Wednesday, I have made a series of excuses why not to ride. As I drive my car, I am more than ever aware how much power and responsibility I have as a driver.
It’s up to all of us to make our streets safe for us all. Please do your part and keep an eye on the road and not anywhere else. Thank you.
via Bikergo Gal
Yesterday for Mother’s Day, at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art, I bought myself a book of Pablo Neruda poetry titled Intimacies: Poetry of Love translated by Alastair Reed and with rich earthen paintings of the body by Mary Heebner.
I read many of these poems aloud on our drive home (putting my son right to sleep but entertaining my husband!) A few years ago, also for Mother’s Day, I bought their previous collaboration which focuses on poetry of the sea with oceanic inspired paintings in blues and greens.
Tonight I am meeting with friends who are getting married on Saturday; I’ll be officiating their wedding. I’m going to share with them this book. In particular, I think they will like the following poem “Amor” or “Love” which ends the book.
Amor by Pablo Neruda
So many days, oh so many days
seeing you so tangible and so close,
how do I pay, with what do I pay?
The bloodthirsty spring
has awakened in the woods.
The foxes start from their earths,
the serpents drink the dew,
and I go with you in the leaves
between the pines and the silence,
asking myself how and when
I will have to pay for my luck.
Of everything I have seen,
it’s you I want to go on seeing:
of everything I’ve touched,
it’s your flesh I want to go on touching.
I love your orange laughter.
I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.
What am I to do, love, loved one?
I don’t know how others love
or how people loved in the past.
I live, watching you, loving you.
Being in love is my nature.
You please me more each afternoon.
Where is she? I keep on asking
if your eyes disappear.
How long she’s taking! I think, and I’m hurt.
I feel poor, foolish and sad,
and you arrive and you are lightning
glancing off the peach trees.
That’s why I love you and yet not why.
There are so many reasons, and yet so few,
for love has to be so,
involving and general,
particular and terrifying,
joyful and grieving,
flowering like the stars,
and measureless as a kiss.
That’s why I love you and yet not why.
There are so many reasons, and yet so few,
for love has to be so,
involving and general,
particular and terrifying,
joyful and grieving,
flowering like the stars,
and measureless as a kiss.
— Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda was born in 1904 in Chile; he died in 1973. His honors include sharing the World Peace Prize in 1950 with Paul Robeson and Pablo Picasso and the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1971.
For more poetry and other news from my part of the world, please subscribe to this blog in the upper right hand corner! I’ve been posting a poem on Mondays since soon after I started blogging in November 2007.
Please check out my new collection of 3:15 experiment poetry Middle of the Night Poems from Daughter to Mother :: Mother to Son from en theos press 2011. It’s available in paperback (also from Amazon) or as an ebook. Read sample poems here. Read a review by Robert Peake here.
For more poetry by bloggers from all over the world, catch the Monday Poetry Train!
Yesterday after yoga, I sat in the dining room with two of the monks in charge at the An Lac Buddhist Mission in Ventura while a nun prepared some soup for us. We talked about a few topics including comparing the acts of a Christian Hitler with the Muslim Osama bin Laden, how the acts of a few religious fanatics impacts other members of the faith, and how celebrating the murder of one human, even someone like Osama bin Laden, diminishes all of us. The Buddhist way, as I understand it from our discussion, is to draw out the anger and hate and to replace it with compassion.
While we sat and reflected and discussed what messages Buddhism brings to make our world a better place, the Temple smelled heavenly with the preparation of vegetarian delights and buzzed with activity for tonight’s fundraising event to send both monks and money to Japan. In a week or so, Buddhist monks are flying to Japan from all over the world. They will gather near the nuclear reactor site at Fukishima to pray and they are bringing with them funds raised from their temples to help with the restoration and recovery process. Read on and learn how you can help.
Even if you can’t attend in person, you can light a candle at 8:30pm tonight Pacific time and join your prayers with ours.
CycloMAYnia Ventucky starts today with a First Friday 50s ArtRide Dance Party on 2 Wheels: The Greaser Bicycle Ball!
ArtRides are Free * Light Your Bike * Bring Your Mug & Money * Ride at Your Own Risk
ArtRides are Family Friendly: please use trailer bikes & burley trailers for children * We always meet at 5:30pm on the Ventura Beach Promenade & Ride at 6pm
TONIGHT’s ArtRide Route:
* Meet 5:30, start at 6pm at the Artists Union for Mb Hanrahan & Patty Kennedy‘s show Figuratively Speaking
* Ride up California then up Main to Kalorama and Front Street to see Ian McFadyen‘s photos at Kevin Eckert-Smith‘s gallery.
* Ride back to Main to El Jardin Courtyard to Kama Sutra Closet to my paintings then on to other Main St & Ventura Ave stops like the Museum and the WAV.
* Ride up Ventura Avenue to 432 N Ventura Ave to Bell Arts Factory & 643 Project Space.
* We’ll end up at Art City, 197 Dubbers off Olive and Rex near Vons.
Gonna be fun! Join us on wheels or on foot!
Guest Blogger Ron Wells writes today about seeing Dave Eggers and Patti Smith at the LA Times Book Festival last weekend. Read Ron’s review of Patti Smith’s National Book award winning autobiography Just Kids here.
A packed Bovard Hall on the University of Southern California campus waited in anxious anticipation for the appearance of two modern day artists who, for some at least, are also heroes.
Dave Uli
n introduced them as “role models,” and after a very short introduction, began asking questions that gave both writers the freedom to roam with their answers.Patti began by talking about how she began to concentrate on prose after “leaving public life in 1979.” She said “Coral Sea” was her personal letter to Robert Mapplethorpe which encapsulated her grief, but that Just Kids was fulfilling her promise to Robert to write their story.
Dave Eggers, extremely humble throughout, began by saying it was “surreal” to be on the same stage as Patti, and then said that A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius was written 10 years after his parents death. Read more…












