- Speaking of five new pieces, here are five short stories by Carol Shields to read with brief descriptions of why you should know her work: https://theculturetrip.com/north-america/canada/articles/5-short-stories-by-carol-shields-you-should-read/ I think of the artist embroidering the plaza outside the cathedral on the square in Oaxaca as the blogger describes Shields’s work: “focusing on the everyday interactions and moments of ordinary lives.”
Please consider joining us. Registration information and a history of the conference is available at: ourlifestories.org/.
The booming tourist season starts this weekend and should go through August 1, the last night of Guelaguetza performances, but the zocalo is still a tent city, many highways are still blocked, and some of the exhibitions have been relocated to Llano Park, away from the (ugly) zocalo.
A city that is usually speedy about making graffiti ephemera cannot or is not keeping up with erasing the almost daily production of new propaganda.
This sculpture in the middle of the Alcala pedestrian walkway, on the other hand, proved easier to erase.
–William Butler Yeats
‘YOUR eyes that once were never weary of mine
Are bowed in sotrow under pendulous lids,
Because our love is waning.’
And then She:
‘Although our love is waning, let us stand
By the lone border of the lake once more,
Together in that hour of gentleness
When the poor tired child, passion, falls asleep.
How far away the stars seem, and how far
Is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!’
Pensive they paced along the faded leaves,
While slowly he whose hand held hers replied:
‘Passion has often worn our wandering hearts.’
The woods were round them, and the yellow leaves
Fell like faint meteors in the gloom, and once
A rabbit old and lame limped down the path;
Autumn was over him: and now they stood
On the lone border of the lake once more:
Turning, he saw that she had thrust dead leaves
Gathered in silence, dewy as her eyes,
In bosom and hair.
‘Ah, do not mourn,’ he said,
‘That we are tired, for other loves await us;
Hate on and love through unrepining hours.
Before us lies eternity; our souls
Are love, and a continual farewell.’
- Compose a list of ephemeral things in your life. Explore them in a detailed list or sequential piece.
A friend once told you her favorite color is ocean blue. And, you had an idea of what colors she wanted to see in the gift of a scarf or other souvenir you might select for her.
Absorbing the ocean blue of Veterans’ Beach, you think maybe this is your new favorite shade.
Thus, you dedicate an entire Tuesday to trying to figure out how you might describe this color to a salesman or painter, how to pin it down in stories.
Kelly Moore has approximates. It might be a mix of Swagger and Flamboyant. There is even a cousin named Hawaiian Vacation that might work when combined with World Peace. Sherwin Williams’s Blue Mosque and Hyper Blue and Nile are neighbors to this hue.
You can study the spectral coordinates of blue until you can hardly distinguish Rich Electric Blue from Aero; you can learn more about atmosphere and light.
But there is nothing like this saturation of your senses in the depths of ocean blue.