Reversible Destiny...

 SHUSAKU ARAKAWA  July 6,1936-May 18, 2010 / madeline gins

THIS CAUGHT MY EYE:  " It's immoral", Ms. Gins said, "that people have to die".  This was the closing line of an obituary that appeared in the NY Times today.

Ms.Gins was speaking about the passing of her husband, Shusaku Arakawa, the artist and neo-Dadaist.  He was born in Japan, moved to New York at the age of 25.  With his wife, Madeline Gins, both conceptual artists and designers, they explored mortality by creating buildings meant to stop aging and dying. 

He died on Tuesday.  Ms. Gins said, "This mortality thing is bad news."  She now intends to strengthen her efforts to prove that, "aging can be outlawed".

She declined to give the cause of his death, but my belief is that it had something to do with his tongue being irrevocably stuck in his cheek.

They called their philosophy,"Reversible Destiny" and explored it in books, paintings, poems, and for those who would pay for it, architecture.  A house on Long Island/ Lifespan Extending Villa, featured dozens of colors, sloped floors that sent one hurtling, and levels meant to induce the sensation of being in two places at once, windows at odd heights and no doors..no privacy.  All of this was meant to keep the owner young.

Their work has been considered by some philosophers, critics, and architects as important in both an objective and subjective sense.  But fun and strangeness have prevailed and they had a retrospective in 1997 at the Guggenheim to exhibit the infinite ways to stretch life.  Arakawa said that Marcel Duchamp was his mentor.

As a further indication of their well thought out ideas, it should be mentioned here that in the 1990's they invested money with Bernie Madoff.  They lost it all in the fraud.  Perhaps dying is better than living forever in poverty. 

RIP... Shusaku Arakawa

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CHOCLAT SIN # 20

I'm not asking you to try this.  I just like for us to be aware that it's out there.  I think that this might be a good addition to your backpack if you're going on an overnight and just might get lost.  Dessert could help get you through the night.

Here's a real recipe, easy as falling off a Yule log, that might help you get through a different kind of night.

Another thing, I've adapted this from a long ago recipe at myrecipe.com.  See, I'm being honest...I didn't invent this and they think they own it.  Who really owns a recipe?  And chocolate?  Puhleez.  I'm doing social work.


CHOCO MOCHO COOKIE PUD

1 pkg. instant chocolate pudding mix
2 cups cold milk
1 3 oz. pkg. crm. cheese, softened
1  8 oz. container whipped topping, thawed
16  Oreo double-stuff coffee flavored cream cookies, crushed
3/4 cup chopped, toasted pecans
2 tbls. strong, brewed coffee

Make pudding according to directions on box.  Chill 5 minutes.

Stir together crm. chs., whipped topping, and coffee

Spread 1 cup crushed cookies on bottom of an 8 cup bowl.  Spread half of cream chs. mix over crushed cookies.  Sprinkle with half of pecans.  Spread all of pudding over top.  Spread remaining crm. chs. mixture over pudding.  Sprinkle with remaining cookies and pecans.  Chill.  Serves 6/8.

To make this recipe into a Choc/Peanut Butter Pudding, substitute PB filled cookies and 1/4 cup PB for crm chs., and dry roasted peanuts for pecans.

Don't feel guilty.  I use no-fat or low-fat ingredients in this and others recipes.  I can't taste the difference.  Maybe it's self-deception.  But I'm happy!


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #14

                                      photo/ willow/ magpie tales


Another weekly challenge from Willow at Magpie Tales.  Lots of fun, do look up all of the participants!

BONUS

When I was a little girl, before I even started kindergarten, my Mom began collecting Blue Willow china from a very unlikely source.  Every Wednesday we would go to a matinee movie at the RKO Pelham, in The Bronx, NYC.   A bonus was given away, free with the the purchase of a ticket: a Blue Willow plate, or bowl, or cup or whatever would finally make up a place setting.  The goal was to reach a complete set, so that you could feed a group of 8 hungry folks and have them eating off a matching set of china.

Time flew by, and I grew past kindergarten age as my Mom continued to watch bad B movies and collect Blue Willow.  I was happy to be going to school, to escape all those seedy romances and boring westerns, usually the second feature of a bill that might feature Bette Davis or Clark Gable or some super glamorous star, who meant nothing to me anyway.  No one ever walked out of movies in those days.  If you paid, you stayed.

A lot of family secrets are tawdry.  Here's one.  The last giveaway, the very last chance to get the last treasured piece of Blue Willow, my Mom couldn't go!  But I had to go to school!!  What to do?  Well, we all have to make sacrifices from time to time, and even though I was sent to school when I complained of what Mom called imaginary illnesses, my Mom justified my skipping school that afternoon by pointing out that I would be contributing to the completion of what was sure to become a collectors item.  She bribed me with a dinner out at the Golden Dragon, the local Chinese restaurant, where I could feast on my favorite, fried noodles and wantons.  Enough said.

Mom bought my ticket, (adult price), spoke to the matron, (remember them?), who seemed always to be waving her flashlight, asked a special favor for her to keep an eye on me, keep me safe and sound, make sure that no pervert chose me to abduct.  And to absolutely see to it that I receive the Blue Willow final plate when they were given out.

All went as planned, and the set of china had a big debut on Thanksgiving.  And was put into semi-retirement, since the Blue Willow reached antique status rather quickly at our house, too precious for everyday use.

I now possess the last soup bowl.  It has a tiny chip on the edge, and doesn't interfere with Milo, my cat, drinking water from it each day.  He sometimes lingers, probably wondering how he can engage the attention of the two lovebirds flying above the idyllic scene.  I too, as a child, was mesmerized by the intricate, very different story, that the Blue Willow had to tell.


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To Life!

BELIEVING/ NOT

They say that as soon
as you get that you are a dream,
a Maya,
you will be thankful to disappear
from life itself.
So the Masters say.

I've got some words I still want to write.
I need the world to see me
a moment more.

I fear losing this form
and
Poof,
disappearing into the cosmos,
no edges, I am you, you are me.

So I screech to a stop
because I'm just not sure
that infinity is as much fun
as being here.

Most of the time
I like that the play's the thing.
I may want to romance life
once again.
Bouquets of pink roses,
more, please!
Am I forgetting that they come with thorns?

And mother's milk,
for all the sweetness I missed
the last time I cried.

I'm almost dust now.
I don't know.
Do I want quantum, cosmic dancing
just yet?


c copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2010


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Meeting a Challenge...

ON SATURDAY, MAY 8, 2010, MY GREAT AND GOOD FRIEND, DERRICK, at Melrose Musings, threw down a challenge for me to help him solve both the provenance and the intrinsic meaning of the beautiful painting he had posted on Saturday Spotlight.  I   advise you to head for his exemplary blog immediately, so that you can feel the full force of this endeavor.

A description of the painting must include the subject matter.  Intensive research on my part reveals the Maharajah of Jodhpur, head of the Rajput Clan of Uttar Pradesh, sitting on his throne.  Next to him sits his pet miniature lion, Udai Singh.  Known affectionately as Singh.  

His twin nephews, Rao Bika and Rao Kumpa have been called to account for the fact that they, the promoters of lion miniaturization, have not been able to include a reproductive system for the lion.  And also to explain why the kneeling Kumpa has grey hair, and the upright Bika has black hair.  The simple answer is that Kumpa is the scholar and Bika is the entertainer, and must preserve the illusion of youth. 

Kumpa is quite distressed at Singh's failure to reproduce, since the Maharani of Kashmir has a standing order for one of his offspring, which at this point, comes down to zero.  Explanations will be in order there too.  My research shows that there's a painting of the Maharani, circa 1544, in tears.  Perhaps my great good friend, Derrick, can get his hands on that treasure too.

The Maharajah of Jadhpur had hoped to bring the art and science of miniaturization to his kingdom, a touch of whimsy, and glory to his court.  Just as the Japanese have shrunken trees to become the ever popular Bonsai, and the ancient Chinese had great success shrinking, or stunting the growth of feet.  Tiny pets were an obsession of the Maharajah.

Unfortunately little Singh was the end of the line for tiny lions.  But he proved to be a loving and faithful pet for the Maharajah, hardly ever leaving his side.

 

Little Singh met an untimely end one day when the Maharani of Kashmir came to visit.  She asked to walk him outside the palace along a golden brick road, and legend has it, they both disappeared!

I hope I've met the challenge to fulfill and extend our mutual knowledge and titillation!  Bring 'em on!!

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MAGPIE/ Prompt #13

                                    photo/ willow/ magpie tales


Doesn't this grab you?  It does me!  Another great prompt from Willow at Magpie Tales.  Please check out the other participants..all found at the
Magpie Tales blog!


THIRD EYE

Kundalini, coiled,
sleeps on my spine
when I'm hushed
as a babe-in-arms,
beneath the quilt of night.

The alarm of dawn!
It's time again to rouse for first light.

God's snake,
watching over the immortal path,
waves and shakes its rattle,
slipping up the stirring channel
while earthly eyes
are still submerged in costumed dreams.

Awaken, eye of my soul,
the race is on.

Whose watch will rule the sunlight hours,
the one that sings the mantra
of ego delights,
and tries again
to etch a world perceived
through colored glass?

Or the one that gleams
with the indigo of oceans,
the azure of heaven,
unblinking,
open always to join all hearts,

time without end.
The eye of eternity
that knows what you really are.


c copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2010

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HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY !

                                   A garden in The Bronx, NYC.  14 years old.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY,

to: 

My Mom.  

Who did she think she was? 

Looks like the first supermodel to me!

            Always a star in her own mind!

To all "Mother and Child reunions"....

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Party of the Year

THERE WAS A GREAT BIG FAB GALA HELD IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD THIS PAST WEEK.  Celebrities galore were pouring into The Metropolitan Museum of Art for the annual Costume Institute Ball, known far and wide as "The Party of the Year".

Being famous predominates.  Even a celebrity created in the last 15 minutes can make a name for themselves here.  But the overwhelming kiss, kiss greeters are major celebs, jet setting for a night with the stars hosted by Oprah Winfrey and Anna Wintour (Vogue).  Hello, gorgeous..hi, moneybags!!  No, darling, we're not here to be seen..it's all for charity.

There was a time, a few years back, when I would show up at the Ball, and have a very sociable time.  Way before celebrities thought it was important to be seen at a museum.  Even before old money started going out, instead of leaving a masterpiece or two for posterity.  Before the elite sashayed up the red carpet, paparazzi popping, I skipped up the concrete stairs, a plebeian princess at the ball.

Now how did I manage this glamorous life?  I'm a little girl from The Bronx, and I first went to the Museum with my class when I was about 11 years old.  I fell for the Egyptian Wing, and the Costume Institute.  As I grew up, I became a Museum junky and made a vow to myself and any angels listening, that someday I'd live as close to The Met as I could get.   

I think that maybe one thing that we wish for is given to us.  I was given proximity to The Met.  I never again asked for anything else.  I'm still here, tucked away in a very middle class existence, in the midst of astonishing fortune.  Of course I've maintained my membership in the Museum to this day.  Ages ago they sent invitations to members to attend the Costume Institute Ball, amazingly for $200. a ticket.  Not yet the "party of the year".  I went once with my ex, me all dolled up in a slinky black gown.  I went another time, no more ex, with one of my girl friends.  Again, in another slinky black gown.  Still have them.  You never know when the middle class will be back in style.


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CHOCLAT SIN #19

WHEN I WAS A KID IN THE CITY, IN THE SUMMERTIME, after supper, (we didn't call it dinner then) we ran out of the house to catch a breeze...AND...  We hung around, waiting for that sound, the bell on the truck, The Good Humor Man!  That was a sound of daily joy...that beckoned with frozen enticements.

Nowadays the bells are mostly silenced because someone in the crowd gets a headache from too much ding-a-ling.  But today, as usual, I'm ready to ring that bell!  Another Wednesday, another chocolate reward...bring that good humor on...Chocolate just keeps on giving!!


WHISKEY- HOT FUDGE SAUCE (gotcha!)

8 oz. unsweetened chocolate baking squares
1/2 cup butter
2 cups sugar
1 cup milk
3 tbls. Southern Comfort
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/8 tsp. salt

Melt chocolate and butter in a heavy saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly.  Add sugar, and cook, stirring constantly, until heated and sugar is dissolved (do not boil).  Remove from heat, stir in whiskey, vanilla, and salt.  Use immediately or cover and chill for up to 2 weeks.  To reheat, microwave sauce, at High, for 15/30 seconds, stirring, until warm.

Layer sauce into serving dish, add any flavor ice-cream, (everything works!), more sauce, sweetened whipped cream.  Top with sprinkles, for nostalgia's sake!  Ring that Bell! 

X-rated!!


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MAGPIE /Prompt #12

                                      photo/ willow/ Magpie Tales

      Another tale that's erupted in the name of Magpie Prompts..long may they wave!! Do catch up with all the clever Bloggers who are Prompted!! 


I DON'T THINK I'LL BE A PROBLEM.  I'M QUIET. Not aggressive anymore, in any way.      

Penny said I could stay.  I've been very well behaved for a long time.  Well, I'm certainly good at that.  I can pretend anything.

"What's this ?" Penny asked, as she helped me unpack.   I smiled inwardly.  I didn't want her to know I prized it. 

"Oh, you know, one of those glass weights, like the Christmas globes you shake to create a chilly snowstorm.  Only, it doesn't matter if you shake this.  You can have it if you like", I lied.  What if she'd said yes?

Should I tell her that Edward gave it to me, one of his collection, just before his life ended? Then he died.  I saw his soul settle inside the globe, behind the blood red coral reef.
 
They let me take the globe and keep it with me when I went to stay in that place.  A harmless thing in itself.  Some people thought it was the instrument.  Nonsense, if they'd thought it through.  Much too ungainly to wield a lethal blow.  

I am my brother's keeper.  I will let him go when I want to.  Penny might laugh if I said that.  No I take it back, she would shudder as others have.  It's best not to say that anymore.  She'd probably reach for a phone, as if all hell was going to break loose.  Again.

No need to worry.  I'm different now and I'll keep all my secrets to myself.  Penny is a very good sister to let me come and stay.


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