Under the Glass Bell

They Always Reach a Sorry Ending. They Always Get it in the End

I was horribly dissatisfied in that I didn't really get across what I meant to about FLW in my last post. To break it down, I knew he was a maniac when it came to form serving function. I knew that he was a stubborn pain in the ass. I thought of him as a real hard ass. So, I was surprised to see that he cultivated quiet places to sit and contemplate art. It was clear that he took inspiration from it. For him, I thought it was more about form and functionality. It was refreshing to have my opinion about him changed.

Ahhh....just playing out of the iPod:

Hillary went to hear death
because she couldn't think of anything to say
Everybody thought that she was boring, so they never listened anyway
Nobody was really saying anything of interest, she fell asleep
She was into S&M and bible studies
Not everyone's cup of tea, she would admit to me

But if you are feeling sinister
Go off and see a minister
He'll try in vain to take away
The pain of being a hopeless unbeliever

Ah, I love Belle & Sebastian. There is an iTunes only Live version of If You're Feeling Sinister. It' required listening for anyone who gives half a shit about B&S.

I just snapped this photo via photobooth. AH, this is for you...remember the discussion of the Illustrated Version of Strunk & White's Elements of Style?

The caption reads, "Wondering irresolutely what to do next, the clock struck twelve."

How about this one?

He noticed a large stain right in the center of the rug.

Finally:

But animals do not comprise (embrace) a zoo--they constitute a zoo.

Bon nuit.

It's a good book. I believe I found it on MightyGoods.

It Won't Be Funny When They Rat-a-tat-tat You Down

Been a long time since I listened to any Kate Bush. Have the iPod on shuffle this afternoon and a lot of Kate has been coming up. Do you know she was 17 or something insane when she wrote Wuthering Heights? Brilliance.

I've really tried to get into the Rilo Kiley's latest. Can't seem to do it. Nothing beats "The Execution of All Things" in my book.

Bought the hub a WII for his birthday back in November. It's a total blast. We bought the Revolution Dance Party game. It's a lot of fun. I have to wait until C is in bed, however, because we once accidentally bonked him in the head with a numchuk. I played that cow riding game with him sitting in my lap and he make a "ccpow" sound every time we hit a cow. Fun!

Went with A and a client to see Frank Lloyd Wright's home and studio in Oak Park last weekend. I didn't think I was a huge fan, but ended up being totally knocked on my ass by how amazing it was. I knew he was an architectural innovator, but it went beyond what I thought. His house was designed and built about five years before our house was built. That blows my mind as our house is pretty standard middle-class house of the period. His house seemed like it was from a completely different era as ours. I guess I associated his prairie design with the 20s and on. I was so wrong.

It was apparent from both the house and studio that he required beautiful and functional surroundings. The lovely guide who gave our tour pointed out time and time again that he took inspiration from his environment. These lovely carved cranes all around the studio caught my eye. He loved them as they symbolized birth. He built places to hang or study the Japanese prints that he collected throughout the studio and his home. He believed in built in furniture. And had his artist friends paint murals in both his bedroom and the kids play room.

The biggest take away, however, was the strength of his belief in himself. He knew that he was on to something and he was going to do everything his own way. He blocked out the windows of an entire side of his house because he didn't want to see the house that had been built next door. He thought it was a monstrosity. The man was known to design dresses for specific rooms of a clients home and require the lady of the house to wear it when she entertained.He obviously went overboard, but it's still inspiring to see an artist who felt that strongly about his ideas.

Also makes me think I need to watch the Ken Burns Frank Lloyd Wright documentary again. Gets into the more scandalous areas of this life that the ladies of Oak Park didn't touch. (Also, later work.)

Going to be freezing this weekend. It will be a good time to catch up on movies. I've got Running with Scissors, Marie Antoinette and Curb Your Enthusiasm Season One ready to go.

There was Nothing Left to Borrow

Cripes! I am just tired.

Here are a few songs I've been enjoying lately:

• Dog on Wheels - Belle and Sebastian (I have such a crush on Stuart Murdoch)
• Nothing Left to Borrow - The Jayhawks (Live From the Women's Club Version)
• Barons of Suburbia - Tori Amos
• Teenage Hustling - Tori Amos
• Going to a Town - Rufus Wainwright
• Earth Intruders - Bjork
• Last Boat Leaving - Elvis Costello
• Jennifer Save Me - Golden Smog
• Swept Away - Nellie McKay

I'm anxious to get into the back yard this weekend because I hired new lawn/landscapers who cleaned out the backyard with me. I ran to Sears over my lunch break because they have an amazing garden section filled with products from a local nursery. I walked through the aisles and kept oohing and aahhing over the gorgeous flowers. I'm starting slow and only bought...pink clover, snap dragons, an entire flat of pansies, celosia, cockscomb and marigolds. Plus, a begonia hanging basket for the front porch. Oh, I can't wait to get out there and plant this weekend.

My climbing rose is blooming. I need to get out tomorrow and take pictures. My climbing hydrangea is climbing up the trellis. I'm hoping it will bloom this year. It hasn't yet.

Have done yoga twice this week and it felt really good. Bad allergies, however, and that is what is making me sleepy.

I ran into a photo of my aunt when loading pics on to my digital photo frame today. Made me sad.

I'm in love with Diet Dr. Pepper these days. I'm skating along on weight watchers. Need to kick it up a notch. I've been craving sugar like nuts so it's been hard.

Watched "The Beales of Grey Gardens" this week. I think I loved it more than "Grey Gardens". It deserves a post of its own.

I'm off to hang with the boy. My gawd is he lovely these days. This morning he ran into our bedroom as I was trying to sleep in a bit and jumped into bed with me and rubbed my head and face as though I were Hugo. There is nothing like that in the world. My heart nearly burst with joy. My lovely, lovely boy.

Mojo

I picked up the latest issue of Mojo. I do it about once a year. I was attracted by the 100 Records that Changed the World list. Nothing so surprising, but I'm shocked that My Aim is True was left off. WTF?

I downloaded the new Michael Penn Collection - Palms & Runes, Tarot and Tea. No Myth is one of very favorite songs. I simply love the man. Red Betty and I saw him about a year ago at Schubas. He was simply amazing. There are a couple of alternate takes of some of his songs on the album. It's nice to hear things in a different order and different way.

Oh, and that brings me to the new Rufie. Christ, can that kid do what he does. He grows more ambitious with each album. I need to spend more time with it, but "Goin to a Town" brought me to tears on first listen a couple weeks back.

I haven't been able to break through on the new Bjork yet, but I'll get there. It takes many listens before I can get into her new albums. It's good because it's challenging.

American Doll Posse

Oh lord. She's on fire...Tori, that is. I still haven't sat down and concentrated on it, but after four spins...I just love her. She's in such fine form.

First tracks that grabbed me:

1. Digital Ghost
2. Teenage Hustling
3. Girl Disappearing

By the way, I was working tonight and listening to Morrissey's You are the Quarry. B and I agree that there is not another human that could write a song called, "All the Lazy Dykes" and get away with it.

Should Tori and Mozzer ever duet I believe that my soul would explode right out of my body and I should cease to exist.

Over the Bridge Now

I have a standing 8 AM con call on Wednesday mornings. The nanny gets here at 7:30, so it's no big deal. But today, I sat on my call staring out the window at about a half inch of heavy, wet snow on the ground. And it was still coming down in large, fast-falling flakes. Two robins hopped through the snow with little cartoon balloons over their heads that said, "WTF?"

Ok, I lied about the balloons. But boy I felt sorry for those little harbingers of spring. And then I started wondering about the robin in my header. I took that picture two years ago, I believe. Was he one of the guys pouting outside of my window this morning?

According to Learner.org, most robins die within their first year of life. But, if they make it past that first year, they live from 5 to 6 years. So, my guy in the header could still be around.

I was up late working last night. I slid into bed at midnight and then couldn't sleep. So, I got up and did about fifteen minutes of yoga in the dark. Then I sat on my zafu* and said the Jewish evening prayers.  I'm memorizing them slowly, so using each line I am memorizing as a mantra of sorts works well. Serves two purposes if you will. I slept more soundly than I have for weeks.

* I love that word. Zafu! Yes, I own a zabuton too.

I am planning to re-read the first volume of Nin's Diary in Hawaii. On the beach. Me, B, the ocean, Nin, Paris. B and I once got into a fight because he complained about the number of Nin books I had in the living room bookcase. "Can you take some downstairs? Between that and the Henry Miller, it looks like an undergraduate's dorm," was his comment I believe. "Up yours. You've never even read any Nin or Miller," was my response. Heh.

Truly, some of our largest fights have been about art. We cannot even speak of Elvis Costello's All This Useless Beauty without someone sleeping on the couch. It is one of my favorite EC albums. He hates it and says it is EC past his prime. Uh! I got pissed just writing that. He can't stand Tori Amos, who I believe saved my life when I was in my early 20s. He can't stand to listen to as much as two bars of any Ani DiFranco song. And he just doesn't get Midnight Oil or Seal or The Postal Service.

I guess I should be fair and say that I hate Van Morrison, Ricki Lee Jones, Bob Dylan, The English Beat and Salman Rushdie. He recently converted my on Tom Waits by taking me to see him live. I guess the common thread is that we are passionate about art.