Yup, I'm a year older. 47 to be specific and lucky.
This image is from a postcard that one of the art teachers at my school made for me. It's a collage of magazine images, and one of the nicest Birthday Cards I've every received.
Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Happy Birthday LEGOs!
The little brick that could was born on January 28, 1958...50 years ago today. Google honored the event by transforming it's logo into lego blocks! And according to a new's report: there are 62 bricks on this planet for every man, woman, and child alive today!
Heaven knows I've contributed my part in this statistic.
Cheers!
Heaven knows I've contributed my part in this statistic.
Cheers!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Like We Care What He's Thinking....
Or so says the inside of this birthday card from my longtime friend, Mr. L. P. It's hard to imagine that I've navigated 46 years of life on this wonderful planet. Cheers!
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Pansies
Why are Pansies so oft maligned?
They are among the hardiest of all flowers! They withstand moderate and even cold winters. They boldly proclaim their presence with colors vibrant and proud. No wonder gay men are called "pansies!"
Here's a poem that I wrote under the inspiration of my window box of pansies some years ago.
MORNING THOUGHT
Perched upon the pot
December darkness obscuring
the world beyond the flower box
where a warm season’s
waning toward the solstice
has preserved the residence
as though it were May
and each day’s new morning
a reason for hope.
And yet, resolute, their
ghostly forms stand erect
little lion faces peering out
into the pre-dawn dark
shaking determined heads
an empathic “no” in the cold breeze
while every other atom of their
pansy-being screams “yes!”
Yes!, to the cat (or the raccoon)
who sets off the automatic floodlights
when passing into the backyard
to scrounge in the compost;
yes!, to the flashes of light white and red
from tail- and head-lights off to early obligations
passing-by on the road below;
yes!, to the ancient sentinels—
flickering sequins in the newly
wintering night. And yes!,
yes!, to the simple joy of existence.
< randuwa
0201.29
It was the occasion of my 41st birthday....seems like so long ago, now.
They are among the hardiest of all flowers! They withstand moderate and even cold winters. They boldly proclaim their presence with colors vibrant and proud. No wonder gay men are called "pansies!"
Here's a poem that I wrote under the inspiration of my window box of pansies some years ago.
MORNING THOUGHT
Perched upon the pot
December darkness obscuring
the world beyond the flower box
where a warm season’s
waning toward the solstice
has preserved the residence
as though it were May
and each day’s new morning
a reason for hope.
And yet, resolute, their
ghostly forms stand erect
little lion faces peering out
into the pre-dawn dark
shaking determined heads
an empathic “no” in the cold breeze
while every other atom of their
pansy-being screams “yes!”
Yes!, to the cat (or the raccoon)
who sets off the automatic floodlights
when passing into the backyard
to scrounge in the compost;
yes!, to the flashes of light white and red
from tail- and head-lights off to early obligations
passing-by on the road below;
yes!, to the ancient sentinels—
flickering sequins in the newly
wintering night. And yes!,
yes!, to the simple joy of existence.
< randuwa
0201.29
It was the occasion of my 41st birthday....seems like so long ago, now.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
What I'm Looking Forward to Listening To!
I gave myself a little birthday present tonight (complete 45 years of life on the 29th).
So I went to amazone.com and bought an album for every 9 years that I've been around this place. 3 are by Steve Earl, liberal wonder-boy and host of the radio talk show, "The Revolution Starts NOW," the 4th is the latest work from Bruce Springsteen. When my ex- left me (on that very day), a mutual friend from our church arrived within minutes of his departure and gave me a copy of Springsteen's tribute to 9/11. While the disasters of my little life, don't even compare to that event, this gift was a profound one. And the 5th is an alnum by Daddy Yankees who are a favorite Reggeaton group of mine, very popular in Nicaragua, and just damn fun to listen to.
SO.... life should be about our beliefs (and we MUST put our money where are mouths and hearts are): My 45th birthday will about my beliefs, my present activism, my past angst and my future hope.
So I went to amazone.com and bought an album for every 9 years that I've been around this place. 3 are by Steve Earl, liberal wonder-boy and host of the radio talk show, "The Revolution Starts NOW," the 4th is the latest work from Bruce Springsteen. When my ex- left me (on that very day), a mutual friend from our church arrived within minutes of his departure and gave me a copy of Springsteen's tribute to 9/11. While the disasters of my little life, don't even compare to that event, this gift was a profound one. And the 5th is an alnum by Daddy Yankees who are a favorite Reggeaton group of mine, very popular in Nicaragua, and just damn fun to listen to.
SO.... life should be about our beliefs (and we MUST put our money where are mouths and hearts are): My 45th birthday will about my beliefs, my present activism, my past angst and my future hope.
Monday, June 20, 2005
I'm A Rat! ~ Who Knew?
A rat? This was a revelation to me. For as long as I have been aware of the Chinese Zodiac, I had assumed that I was an Ox. Born in 1961. The Year of the Ox, right?
And the Ox is strong, dependable, long-suffering. All characteristics that I cherish, and hope to possess. And then I had a recent tryst, with a lovely Indonesian man, and my ideas about my birth according to the Chinese Zodiac were soon dispelled.
Pointing out that the Chinese calendar is not the same as the Gregorian one, he showed me that the new year for the Ox didn’t start until after my birth, in the previous year according to the Chinese lunar calendar; the year of the rat. Beware all with January birthdays, the placemats at your local Chinese restaurant will not carry this disclaimer! So, I am a rat.
Now for those of you who are unfamiliar with the legend behind these symbols, the story is one of a competition. The Buddha invited all the animals to a meeting and told them that the first twelve to arrive would be given the honor of becoming part of the zodiac. From the get go, the Rat practiced treachery upon all the others until finally faced with a wide river to cross and no way to cross it, he convinced the dependable Ox to give him a ride. As they near the shore and the Buddha, the Rat lept from the head of the Ox (technically arriving first) thus achieving the honor of being the first symbol of the twelve, leaving the Ox with the dubious honor of being the second.
Okay, it’s true that like all things astrological, while never wanting to be smug about it, I have always maintained a certain distance from the allure of these ancient myth-based “philosohpies” to hold any power over my, or anyone else’s, life. They’re curiousities. Quaint folklore born of a primal desire to understand and give meaning to the events of life and the cycles of the world around us. But trade in my venerable standing as an Ox for the cunning life of a Rat? It just doesn’t feel right!
Perhaps an explanation for my consternation is found in the details of my birth. You see, my friend did a more thorough analysis of my arrival, and while I was born in the year of the Rat, the hour and month of my birth were both under the grace of the Ox! (The day was that of the Dog.) This gives me a greater sense of well-being. Something in which to take solace. But again, it’s just a silly superstition....right?
So, at the age of 44, in the beginning of the decade of my life which is overseen through my earthly branch by the Horse, with a heavenly stem of Wood +, and an elemental branch of Fire + (and I really don’t know what any of this means, except my friend told me that I should wear brown and green!) may the symbols of your life, whatever they are and wherever you find them, bring you both greater self-awareness, and . . . a little whimsy.
And the Ox is strong, dependable, long-suffering. All characteristics that I cherish, and hope to possess. And then I had a recent tryst, with a lovely Indonesian man, and my ideas about my birth according to the Chinese Zodiac were soon dispelled.
Pointing out that the Chinese calendar is not the same as the Gregorian one, he showed me that the new year for the Ox didn’t start until after my birth, in the previous year according to the Chinese lunar calendar; the year of the rat. Beware all with January birthdays, the placemats at your local Chinese restaurant will not carry this disclaimer! So, I am a rat.
Now for those of you who are unfamiliar with the legend behind these symbols, the story is one of a competition. The Buddha invited all the animals to a meeting and told them that the first twelve to arrive would be given the honor of becoming part of the zodiac. From the get go, the Rat practiced treachery upon all the others until finally faced with a wide river to cross and no way to cross it, he convinced the dependable Ox to give him a ride. As they near the shore and the Buddha, the Rat lept from the head of the Ox (technically arriving first) thus achieving the honor of being the first symbol of the twelve, leaving the Ox with the dubious honor of being the second.
Okay, it’s true that like all things astrological, while never wanting to be smug about it, I have always maintained a certain distance from the allure of these ancient myth-based “philosohpies” to hold any power over my, or anyone else’s, life. They’re curiousities. Quaint folklore born of a primal desire to understand and give meaning to the events of life and the cycles of the world around us. But trade in my venerable standing as an Ox for the cunning life of a Rat? It just doesn’t feel right!
Perhaps an explanation for my consternation is found in the details of my birth. You see, my friend did a more thorough analysis of my arrival, and while I was born in the year of the Rat, the hour and month of my birth were both under the grace of the Ox! (The day was that of the Dog.) This gives me a greater sense of well-being. Something in which to take solace. But again, it’s just a silly superstition....right?
So, at the age of 44, in the beginning of the decade of my life which is overseen through my earthly branch by the Horse, with a heavenly stem of Wood +, and an elemental branch of Fire + (and I really don’t know what any of this means, except my friend told me that I should wear brown and green!) may the symbols of your life, whatever they are and wherever you find them, bring you both greater self-awareness, and . . . a little whimsy.
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