http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G1YbfCQmr4o
(What Are You Doing New Year's Eve - Nancy Wilson)
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Have A Great One!
Hope everyone had a nice holiday.
And yes, I am not anywhere near the computer, this entry was created before I left shore :)
And yes, I am not anywhere near the computer, this entry was created before I left shore :)
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Return.
"Heaven is covered with the constellations, earth with waterways, man with channels. When heaven and earth are temperate, the waters are calm; when heaven is cold and earth frozen, the waters stagnate, when heaven is warm and the earth scorched, the waters boil; when the wind blows violently, the waters break into waves." -Suwen
I bid thee farewell, my journey here has come to a end for this season. I must hoist anchors and leave port, to set sail, to swim, to return to my home. Not the place where I live, but the place where I belong. The ocean. As spoken before it is only for the solar tides, and as I return to the ocean now, I shall return to land once again later. Until then...
A Restaurant And An Island...
What is a Pawpaw really?
But truly, the island was my favorite place all through the years I frequented. I longed to go there for days on end and eat its special yield. The fruit lies within, and my island was my place of reprieve from all. What brings this memory back to mind isn't the restaurant, or the time of year.
It is the retreat to a place of peaceful serenity.
The time of year and the thought of the island lead me down the memory of a place to eat. Good food and special decorations, elves that serve you, and if you are fortunate Santa might just show up to wish you well all year round.
Two places, completely different, yet sharing the same common thread...
Asimina triloba.
But truly, the island was my favorite place all through the years I frequented. I longed to go there for days on end and eat its special yield. The fruit lies within, and my island was my place of reprieve from all. What brings this memory back to mind isn't the restaurant, or the time of year.
It is the retreat to a place of peaceful serenity.
The time of year and the thought of the island lead me down the memory of a place to eat. Good food and special decorations, elves that serve you, and if you are fortunate Santa might just show up to wish you well all year round.
Two places, completely different, yet sharing the same common thread...
Asimina triloba.
Friday, December 12, 2008
There And Back Again...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5pqvvW3WIU
(The Traveler's Song/Måtkelåvlla - Berit Oskal)
Where do we all begin?
(The Traveler's Song/Måtkelåvlla - Berit Oskal)
Where do we all begin?If that's not a rhetoric of many complexities.
Where do we define this world and another?
This realm or another plane?
This dream state or the waking?
This planet or another Earth?
I do believe they all coincide.
Perhaps we are here and in a blink of an eye there.
Who's to say it isn't all intertwined,
And quite possibly the grand scheme of all things?
If it is up to choice, where shall we all begin?
Where do we define this world and another?
This realm or another plane?
This dream state or the waking?
This planet or another Earth?
I do believe they all coincide.
Perhaps we are here and in a blink of an eye there.
Who's to say it isn't all intertwined,
And quite possibly the grand scheme of all things?
If it is up to choice, where shall we all begin?
(2002)
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Digging For Treasure.
A pirate at heart (as you might of figured out),
I am always on the hunt for treasure.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIkIPWybuWg
(Martyr - Rusted Root)
I am always on the hunt for treasure.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIkIPWybuWg
(Martyr - Rusted Root)
In southern Florida, I found myself crazed with a group of amateur archaeologists, along with university archaeological groups. We would go digging all hours of the day, rain or shine. Actually, the rain was a major benefit as it would bring any low lying finds to the surface. Mostly, one would find mass amounts of chert, the shavings in areas from actually making a specific tool. One always knew where to look for a good dig spot. If there were more than 3 different kinds of trees in an area. Once down and below, if you found charred wood pieces you know you were heading on the right track. The Native Americans generally used an area of different foliage for shade, especially, and other means such as food or medicines. Once you found a fire pit, you were guarantied to find other items (such as utensils, pottery, arrows, a lot of chert, etc.), as the location became the communal area of function. In all actuality, it was friend who taught me the most about sand based archeology in this terrain. Warm nights out in my little hole. I didn't get to go as often as I did out west. But when I did go, I always enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and the finding of treasure.
My very first piece, was my wits telling me to dig in a specific area. As it was my first time out, my friend was showing me the technique in the spot I had chosen. We actually uncovered it together, although he really found it, he says it was my spot and he was just the teacher. Therefore, he gave it to me. It nearly resembles a Covington blade with the point of a Folsom. But what do I know it could be a Dover?
This next find was actually found on what we called a "walking search" (where you walk the land like police searching for clues), after heavy days of raining. The rain brought this rare find of a dart point right up to my eyeballs and into my fingertips. I am guessing that it is grey-blue chert with a tan base, although the exact material is unknown because when it is wet it is glossy (possibly only from water polishing over time). Due to the wear and tear on this piece, I assume this was its last status before non-use. With the side notches, it's original purpose was probably that of a long arrowhead, a drill, or even a blade. Over time and usage, it was ground down to a bird point until it was no longer usable.
I know that generally the find is classified based on location, but I have a little problem in being an amateur... These points were found Gulf Coastal, and generally the Indians of this area used shell, bone, etc. - rather than chert and stone. Washed ashore and laid to rest over time or merely transient artifacts, I am uncertain. I am also unaware of the period that they come from and the specific peoples who made them. All I know is that archeology is fun and finding things is even better, and the known history that comes along with finding things is truly amazing.
My very first piece, was my wits telling me to dig in a specific area. As it was my first time out, my friend was showing me the technique in the spot I had chosen. We actually uncovered it together, although he really found it, he says it was my spot and he was just the teacher. Therefore, he gave it to me. It nearly resembles a Covington blade with the point of a Folsom. But what do I know it could be a Dover?
This next find was actually found on what we called a "walking search" (where you walk the land like police searching for clues), after heavy days of raining. The rain brought this rare find of a dart point right up to my eyeballs and into my fingertips. I am guessing that it is grey-blue chert with a tan base, although the exact material is unknown because when it is wet it is glossy (possibly only from water polishing over time). Due to the wear and tear on this piece, I assume this was its last status before non-use. With the side notches, it's original purpose was probably that of a long arrowhead, a drill, or even a blade. Over time and usage, it was ground down to a bird point until it was no longer usable.
I know that generally the find is classified based on location, but I have a little problem in being an amateur... These points were found Gulf Coastal, and generally the Indians of this area used shell, bone, etc. - rather than chert and stone. Washed ashore and laid to rest over time or merely transient artifacts, I am uncertain. I am also unaware of the period that they come from and the specific peoples who made them. All I know is that archeology is fun and finding things is even better, and the known history that comes along with finding things is truly amazing.A Dog's Eye View.
What would my world be if through the sense of smell.
I watch my ship's hound and how he perceives the world as he goes along in it.
Everything is by snout and sniff.
I wonder exactly what type of picture is painted for him?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N598gXxGEzU
(Hold Up A Light - Take That)
I watch my ship's hound and how he perceives the world as he goes along in it.
Everything is by snout and sniff.
I wonder exactly what type of picture is painted for him?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N598gXxGEzU(Hold Up A Light - Take That)
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Behind The Silk Screen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRB5eq3kxr0
Art I, high school, 14 years of age, 9th grade.
I didn't really get to know him, aside from this class. I never saw him outside of the class, and I think I recall he was a senior (therefore, his last year). He was a young colored man; tall and decent looking. Excuse my interpretation of "colored" - as I do not recall his heritage and I even think he was possibly an exchange student or not originally from the States at all. He and I were esteemed critics of one another in our art. He was soft spoken and we always had a good conversation. For someone of my age and intelligence it was difficult to have a decent conversion between classmates. Yet, he was strikingly intellectual. I valued it, it was priceless as no other person was able to provide me with the intellectual stimuli that I needed. I even remember exactly what he looks like and what he was wearing the day he presented me his final piece, wanting me to have a copy. But I can not remember his name. But, I had his artwork. Unfortunately, I no longer have his artwork as of current. Not that it is unfortunate, but I framed and gave it to my boss to hang in his office. Which I assume it is still there. I do not recall if I exchanged my piece with him, as we had made several copies of our silk screen study. I placed mine on a t-shirt, which got presented on the wall of awards for the year (I didn't win an award for it, but my concept was an embraced theme). If my memory serves me, his piece was on that wall as well.
For his distinct character and brain power it only suited him for his study to be an idol/mentor of his. He even hoped that one day he could have a talk show himself. His silk screen study was a portrait of Rush Limbaugh. The reason this young man's art is in my former bosses office, was that everyday at 14:00 I was subjected to listen to Rush, as my boss was an avid listener. Everyday at 14:00, I thought of my long ago friend. Therefore, framing the study given as a gift and hanging it on the wall in the office. Constant reminders of my first true intellectual friend and art critic. I had wished today to have become solid friends with this person, to learn and share over the years. With his intelligence and will power, he would have grown up to be a lawyer or doctor, or even a talk show host on politics. He most assuredly went to college, no doubt. Maybe he even met Mr. Limbaugh in passing. I smile for him, and hope one day we might have the opportunity to meet again.
Art I, high school, 14 years of age, 9th grade.
I didn't really get to know him, aside from this class. I never saw him outside of the class, and I think I recall he was a senior (therefore, his last year). He was a young colored man; tall and decent looking. Excuse my interpretation of "colored" - as I do not recall his heritage and I even think he was possibly an exchange student or not originally from the States at all. He and I were esteemed critics of one another in our art. He was soft spoken and we always had a good conversation. For someone of my age and intelligence it was difficult to have a decent conversion between classmates. Yet, he was strikingly intellectual. I valued it, it was priceless as no other person was able to provide me with the intellectual stimuli that I needed. I even remember exactly what he looks like and what he was wearing the day he presented me his final piece, wanting me to have a copy. But I can not remember his name. But, I had his artwork. Unfortunately, I no longer have his artwork as of current. Not that it is unfortunate, but I framed and gave it to my boss to hang in his office. Which I assume it is still there. I do not recall if I exchanged my piece with him, as we had made several copies of our silk screen study. I placed mine on a t-shirt, which got presented on the wall of awards for the year (I didn't win an award for it, but my concept was an embraced theme). If my memory serves me, his piece was on that wall as well.
For his distinct character and brain power it only suited him for his study to be an idol/mentor of his. He even hoped that one day he could have a talk show himself. His silk screen study was a portrait of Rush Limbaugh. The reason this young man's art is in my former bosses office, was that everyday at 14:00 I was subjected to listen to Rush, as my boss was an avid listener. Everyday at 14:00, I thought of my long ago friend. Therefore, framing the study given as a gift and hanging it on the wall in the office. Constant reminders of my first true intellectual friend and art critic. I had wished today to have become solid friends with this person, to learn and share over the years. With his intelligence and will power, he would have grown up to be a lawyer or doctor, or even a talk show host on politics. He most assuredly went to college, no doubt. Maybe he even met Mr. Limbaugh in passing. I smile for him, and hope one day we might have the opportunity to meet again.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
The Viking Table.
The tables are aligned in fashion representing the colors of yuletide festivities.
Unfortunately, modern day Vikings do not know that the Star of David plant (poinsettias) is poisonous to humans. Figures, everywhere I go I have to compete with a poisonous plant this time of year! Dumb modern Vikings, and they all wonder why their noses are snuffy!
Anyway back to my story...
Flames meet you at the tavern. Bonfires ablaze in the middle of the cold winter night. Fire, the most common thread throughout the years of the Vikings. When walking through the main double doors, which serve as the entrance, one can find the origins of mistletoe. Originally, used to welcome strangers and travelers, a sign of warmth. A friendly hello and a kiss at the welcome, which lead to further use of kissing under the mistletoe. One is then greeted by the head of the Viking community (generally the king, along with his wives) and served alcohol of choice as a guest of honor.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=weAQWk6ji0g
(Traditional Norsk Music)
Upstairs in the loft of chambers, the tables are decorated, along with banners and streamers hanging all over. Little Nisse Men (gnomes) are along the walls and sitting in every corner. Their little wives holding on to sprigs of tree. Straw goats stand in waiting to pull the chariot of Thor, the god of thunder. The creatures of the underworld all welcome.
Along the back wall of the chambers you find a set of tables piled high with all the foods known to this northern creation. Ribs, lamb, sour kraut, red kraut, potatoes (the ancient Viking did not eat potatoes, as they did not eat anything buried beneath the ground), brown gravy, sausages. Another table held a variety of sliced meats such as red wine reindeer, cognac soaked beef, to simple fares of different ham and turkeys. Another table was purely seafood ranging from raw whale meat and smoked salmon, just to name one of the salmon dishes. Onward to cold water shrimp, lobster, and crab with a variety of the main courses in differently prepared manners. They even had crayfish! Of course, one could not forget lutefisk. Pates and sauces matching every dish lie by the sides of the magnificently presented foods, with decorated cuts of vegetables and garnishes. The dessert tables consisted of three separate tables to themselves. Every known dessert to Viking and Scandinavian history was delicately portrayed and just as inviting as the last. All set to dim candelabra, giving the evening air a glow from previous holidays past.
The tradition is set in a farewell to the old and drinking in the new. A celebration for the turning sun. Each year is celebrated in story telling (as their history was passed along and for entertainment, considered a gift from the god Odin). Even modern Vikings have not lost this touch of culture. Drinking and eating, drinking and eating... three days, turned into a week in some cases. Dancing, laughing, storytelling, drinking, eating, and in general merry times all under fire light of the candles' and bonfires' glow.
Hence, the tradition of the Viking Table.
Unfortunately, modern day Vikings do not know that the Star of David plant (poinsettias) is poisonous to humans. Figures, everywhere I go I have to compete with a poisonous plant this time of year! Dumb modern Vikings, and they all wonder why their noses are snuffy!
Anyway back to my story...
Flames meet you at the tavern. Bonfires ablaze in the middle of the cold winter night. Fire, the most common thread throughout the years of the Vikings. When walking through the main double doors, which serve as the entrance, one can find the origins of mistletoe. Originally, used to welcome strangers and travelers, a sign of warmth. A friendly hello and a kiss at the welcome, which lead to further use of kissing under the mistletoe. One is then greeted by the head of the Viking community (generally the king, along with his wives) and served alcohol of choice as a guest of honor.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=weAQWk6ji0g
(Traditional Norsk Music)
Upstairs in the loft of chambers, the tables are decorated, along with banners and streamers hanging all over. Little Nisse Men (gnomes) are along the walls and sitting in every corner. Their little wives holding on to sprigs of tree. Straw goats stand in waiting to pull the chariot of Thor, the god of thunder. The creatures of the underworld all welcome.
Along the back wall of the chambers you find a set of tables piled high with all the foods known to this northern creation. Ribs, lamb, sour kraut, red kraut, potatoes (the ancient Viking did not eat potatoes, as they did not eat anything buried beneath the ground), brown gravy, sausages. Another table held a variety of sliced meats such as red wine reindeer, cognac soaked beef, to simple fares of different ham and turkeys. Another table was purely seafood ranging from raw whale meat and smoked salmon, just to name one of the salmon dishes. Onward to cold water shrimp, lobster, and crab with a variety of the main courses in differently prepared manners. They even had crayfish! Of course, one could not forget lutefisk. Pates and sauces matching every dish lie by the sides of the magnificently presented foods, with decorated cuts of vegetables and garnishes. The dessert tables consisted of three separate tables to themselves. Every known dessert to Viking and Scandinavian history was delicately portrayed and just as inviting as the last. All set to dim candelabra, giving the evening air a glow from previous holidays past.
The tradition is set in a farewell to the old and drinking in the new. A celebration for the turning sun. Each year is celebrated in story telling (as their history was passed along and for entertainment, considered a gift from the god Odin). Even modern Vikings have not lost this touch of culture. Drinking and eating, drinking and eating... three days, turned into a week in some cases. Dancing, laughing, storytelling, drinking, eating, and in general merry times all under fire light of the candles' and bonfires' glow.
Hence, the tradition of the Viking Table.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
So Here's Your Life.
"From birth, man carries the weight of gravity on his shoulders.
He is bolted to earth.
But man has only to sink beneath the surface and he is free."
- Jacques Cousteau
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=boPhDRug_SQ
(The Life Of Riley - The Lightning Seeds)
He is bolted to earth.
But man has only to sink beneath the surface and he is free."
- Jacques Cousteau
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=boPhDRug_SQ
(The Life Of Riley - The Lightning Seeds)
Friday, December 5, 2008
Teal Green And Ceraluen Blue.
The place is where time, realm, dimension, or reality do not exist.
As all coexists.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJYmb_omJIQ
(Spasmeno Karavi - Dimitri Mpasis)
The man who sat on the outer wall of glistening marble was donning a typical fisherman's cap of Greek beginnings. The blue matching the dark tones of the water below in its deepest quarries. The blue that can be seen as a decorative theme mingled periodically throughout the marble of the great city structure that loomed behind him. He was awaiting an oncoming ship.
The ship was nothing that one would recognize in this current day and age. It gleamed of bronze with the sunlight reflecting piercingly off of it, producing energies captured and reused. Yet it contained that of a 1400's Chinese junker sail. But the sail was steadfast in some metal cast. The dawning of our current thoughts for a solar sail.
The captain could use the light reflection, even in daylight, to pinpoint the ideal location of port, off of a highly sophisticated lighthouse that aligned with passing light energy from sun to ship to port. All an interconnected mass production of resource shared.
The Keeper has long moved on to another post in his millions of years retirement, more as a duty to a friend than for any sort of return or home. He has been a gift to the Captain and a close friend throughout her years. Now another has taken his place, The Harbor Master.
The Lighthouse stood to the left side of the port entrance. Every time the light beam flooded around the area, one could see the glass panes lit up to reveal tiny shapes in different sizes set within.
The Daughter had returned. To once again set foot on her home land before retrieving back into the midsts. The Harbor Master nearly lost his Greek hat due to the mighty gusts that came along with the impending energy from the ship, when jumping up to run down the terrace to help with docking. He was so excited, as his friendship was loyal to The Captain's father and his footsteps followed that of The Keeper.
I jumped down off of my ship, The Helene, and grabbed the moorings. The Harbor Master came quick to help along with the crew. As his excitement bubbled over at my return, his hand reached up to my face and he gently rested the back part on my cheek. Warmth and kindness.
After the crew had made their report on all the proper calibrations and systems check - as with all dockings, I headed to the inner chambers of my home. Dressed in the traditional form of clothing, long flowing cerulean blue, I went into the city square. Filled with festivities and greetings from all, family and friends. The night shortly closed in, and I wished to go to my quiet spot at the pristine sunset.
A few planets, moons, and stars have come out to twinkle as I made my way up the shore side behind the great outer marble wall. There was a true form hill with tiny flowers amongst green grasses and an outlook over the wall to the vast blues of ocean and sky that filled the horizons, with a tint of teal green on the edges. Behind me at a great distance of waterways and brilliant lights was the gigantic city, where I had left all in their merriness. The lighthouse stood to my right and as always I glanced slowly along the horizon, soaking in all the glory. The wind picked up my hair in a force gale, and my long flowing whipped around my land legs. I reached my hand up to shield my face from my hair. And as I held it there to prevent more hair in my line of sight, I looked up to the lighthouse. Its beaming sunlight illuminated the 9 planets, set along with other objects, within the glass panes. The thought was grand, how everything worked, and how fortunate I was to be a part of something so cosmic.
As The Helene was cast off shore and The Captain and her crew headed back out to sea, The Harbor Master's lasting impression of a hand remained warmly on her cheek, and a glimpse heavenward revealed the sliver of a moon.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJYmb_omJIQ
(Spasmeno Karavi - Dimitri Mpasis)
The man who sat on the outer wall of glistening marble was donning a typical fisherman's cap of Greek beginnings. The blue matching the dark tones of the water below in its deepest quarries. The blue that can be seen as a decorative theme mingled periodically throughout the marble of the great city structure that loomed behind him. He was awaiting an oncoming ship.
The ship was nothing that one would recognize in this current day and age. It gleamed of bronze with the sunlight reflecting piercingly off of it, producing energies captured and reused. Yet it contained that of a 1400's Chinese junker sail. But the sail was steadfast in some metal cast. The dawning of our current thoughts for a solar sail.
The captain could use the light reflection, even in daylight, to pinpoint the ideal location of port, off of a highly sophisticated lighthouse that aligned with passing light energy from sun to ship to port. All an interconnected mass production of resource shared.
The Keeper has long moved on to another post in his millions of years retirement, more as a duty to a friend than for any sort of return or home. He has been a gift to the Captain and a close friend throughout her years. Now another has taken his place, The Harbor Master.
The Lighthouse stood to the left side of the port entrance. Every time the light beam flooded around the area, one could see the glass panes lit up to reveal tiny shapes in different sizes set within.
The Daughter had returned. To once again set foot on her home land before retrieving back into the midsts. The Harbor Master nearly lost his Greek hat due to the mighty gusts that came along with the impending energy from the ship, when jumping up to run down the terrace to help with docking. He was so excited, as his friendship was loyal to The Captain's father and his footsteps followed that of The Keeper.
I jumped down off of my ship, The Helene, and grabbed the moorings. The Harbor Master came quick to help along with the crew. As his excitement bubbled over at my return, his hand reached up to my face and he gently rested the back part on my cheek. Warmth and kindness.
After the crew had made their report on all the proper calibrations and systems check - as with all dockings, I headed to the inner chambers of my home. Dressed in the traditional form of clothing, long flowing cerulean blue, I went into the city square. Filled with festivities and greetings from all, family and friends. The night shortly closed in, and I wished to go to my quiet spot at the pristine sunset.
A few planets, moons, and stars have come out to twinkle as I made my way up the shore side behind the great outer marble wall. There was a true form hill with tiny flowers amongst green grasses and an outlook over the wall to the vast blues of ocean and sky that filled the horizons, with a tint of teal green on the edges. Behind me at a great distance of waterways and brilliant lights was the gigantic city, where I had left all in their merriness. The lighthouse stood to my right and as always I glanced slowly along the horizon, soaking in all the glory. The wind picked up my hair in a force gale, and my long flowing whipped around my land legs. I reached my hand up to shield my face from my hair. And as I held it there to prevent more hair in my line of sight, I looked up to the lighthouse. Its beaming sunlight illuminated the 9 planets, set along with other objects, within the glass panes. The thought was grand, how everything worked, and how fortunate I was to be a part of something so cosmic.
As The Helene was cast off shore and The Captain and her crew headed back out to sea, The Harbor Master's lasting impression of a hand remained warmly on her cheek, and a glimpse heavenward revealed the sliver of a moon.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Shall We?... Let's!
Snow is pretty.
Frost is prettier.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xrgq5lN9Ius
(When We Dance - Sting)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xrgq5lN9Ius
(When We Dance - Sting)
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
For Jesse Noe...
As promised, I vowed to place my very own art here for viewing before I return to the sea for the solar tide. Up until now, I hadn't even thought about placing my artwork on the web to share with others. My friend convinced me, with his stupendous art site, that maybe I should venture down this avenue.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOiVaE-pKqM
This piece is dedicated to you. Why I chose to show this piece as my first and to dedicate it to you, is due to a previous conversion about rare jade and your heritage. You inspired me. So, I thought you might enjoy this. I know it isn't exactly Meso-Americas, and more leaning towards the Mesa/Pueblo Indians, but for some reason this piece - my very first piece ever posted in virtual reality, was for you.
I was under the study of my first private art instructor, and out west at that. The time frame of its creation allows me to determine that I was under the age of 10, probably 8ish. This piece is a bit special, as it contains two separate art forms. The background is watercolor on standard watercolor paper, and the top is actually an overlay of pen and ink on a transparency.
For Jesse Noe.
For Jesse Noe.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Dreaming Again.
I can't get him out of my mind.
Now that I have actually had the opportunity to converse with him.
And a common thread much desired, water.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vyi04lFMKBU
And a common thread much desired, water.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vyi04lFMKBUMonday, December 1, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Georgia On My Mind.
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, a book made movie,
leaves me in a profound need to go see this place.
Not just any place, or any numerous city wonders of Georgia - such as Atlanta. But a very special town, specific to the nature of the author's journey. Maybe that journey is what compelled me to make my own to Savannah.
I shouldn't of been so pressed with leave from work and the time chosen. Mid winter, yet that in itself lead to the nature of appeal left frozen in my mind from the pages I had read. Was it ideally the way the author had described? Yet his fond description was that of summer. What did I expect to find?
It was only a brief getaway, but worth it never the less. A mini vacation... I tend to do those quite often. Before I ventured, I dreamed of 2 children running around the hallways in a candle lit plantation house. Strange, as if some part of Savannah was reaching out to me before I arrived.
When I did arrive, I found myself in the midst of winter, with not as much festivities or occasions to attend. Although, tourism knows no halt based on just weather. I booked a cozy bed and breakfast down one of the many historic streets that ran rampid to and fro. I missed every single breakfast, as I chose to utilize my vacation for some long overdue sleeping in.
All throughout the town one can find statues, memoirs of personal and historical events, plaques, memorials, graveyards. As a matter of fact, half of the houses and streets in use today are actually built over the remains of many lost souls... as the majority of Savannah is a graveyard in itself. Just happens the population ran out of room to build, so they built on top of the old sacred grounds. Interesting.
The architecture is truly amazing from this time frame and one can recapture the feel of living just by being in the area. The homes and mansions, each unique and appreciated.
Nearly all buildings contain haint blue (represents water) in their construction somewhere, usually found in the doorways. A sense of evil eye for this area, or that of the passover with blood - it is to warn off evil spirits. Of course I also went on a ghost tour, it wouldn't be a visit to Savannah without one. The tour was at night and leads you to the Colonial Park Cemetery. I went back during the day to snoop around. It is an interesting thing, reading tombstones from all over... you never know what stories have been left behind as immortal memoirs.
The cold-chilled winter air prevented me from doing much site seeing on foot, especially at night. So one evening, I decided to take a horse and buggy tour across the many squares and parks. A warm thick wool blanket accompanied me in the dark airy night. There are 24 squares in total, 3 which have nearly disappeared into time. This form of transportation literally transported me back in time... to an era without any other means of traveling other than a horse and buggy, and the guide filling my ears with history. History, which had lead me here to begin with.
The Riverfront, absolutely my favorite. Consisting of 19th century architecture restored. Did you know that these buildings were the cotton warehouses and the central trade area? There is this candy shop on the corner where you can purchase the best red licorice in the world. But my most favorite shop on this thoroughfare happens to be the kite shop. After purchasing a really unique kite (which I and others still have not been able to get in flight), I decided to treat myself to dinner at the River House Seafood Restaurant. I don't do much with bread, but this place had a savory honey wheat potato bread that I actually bought 2 loaves to take with me. And the food from the ocean was just delightful - blue crab cakes and a caesar! Come to find out you can actually order baked goods from them anywhere in the U. S., http://www.riverhouseseafood.com/. After dinner I sat and watched the famous tactics of the Savannah Georgia Boat Fire Brigade. That was a real treat!
I ventured into the night life as well, and found a club that suited my needs downstairs. I took this picture of the stairwell, as it spawned my creativeness to venture down wall murals as a side job. I thought to myself, that's easy enough, and I could make money!
As usual, I can't afford to go to all the museums and art facilities places offer, let alone have the time. So I always research, if you will, all in the area and pick one if not two to indulge in. This trip called for a very special house, the Owens-Thomas House presented by the Telfair Museum, depicting symmetrical English Regency architecture. The designer, William Jay, had built it so that every side in every detail was identical to the other side. So if there was a doorway on the left leading somewhere, there was a doorway on the right leading nowhere. If you can't tell why I chose this as the final cut for the seeing, hehe. Out back one could find the servants quarters and a gift shop filled with fine things and antiques.
In 1794, my ancestors landed and founded The Pirate's House. A tavern which lead to the great tale of Treasure Island. Har Har Mateys!
On foot, nearly the last day of my stay, I found the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist. This looming structure was built in 1833 and still stands in awe in the middle of the historic district. I went inside, as the doors were open that day, to look around. Even though I am not a religious person, I always buy a candle (to help promote funding in upkeep of the architectural beauties, along with postcards) and light it when in the transept.
In a must see journey to capture some piece of history based on the book, I ventured towards the Bonaventure Cemetery.
This location is quite off the main fairways of historic Savannah, as it is right next to the Savannah River. There Johnny Mercer wrote the song Moon River and was also burried. I sat on his memorial. It is a bench, " Ac-cent-tchu-ates The Positive - Autumn Leaves - Blues In The Night - Charade - Jeepers Creepers - Laura - Moon River - My Shining Hour - On The Atchison Topeka & Santa Fe / Come Rain Or Come Shine - The Days Of Wine and Roses - Hooray For Hollywood - In The Cool, Cool, Cool Of The Evening - One For My Baby - Something's Gotta Give - That Old Black Magic - You Must Have Been A Beautiful Baby".
Then of course it wouldn't be fitting if I did not find the infamous Bird Girl statue, that donned the cover of the book that brought me here. Later in years, a girlfriend and myself attended a performance of the book acted solely by the author with a piano, and of course the infamous Chibli. It was quite a different rendition of any artistry I had seen, and I enjoyed it quite thoroughly.
Being so far away from my original destination... I decided to explore, which lead to the island. It was overcast and grey. The road from Bonaventure Cemetery lead over a bridge
and stretched far off into Georgia's bayou of nature.
The road surrounded by water and mangroves, passed an old lighthouse in disrepair. Once at the island itself, it reminded me of small beach locations where everything was situated on a strip with a handful of tourism appeals and hotels. Yet, here it felt different. It was not commercialized and had a small town feel. At the end of the isle was a tall, looming black and white working lighthouse. Unfortunately, it was late in the evening when I did arrive and closing times had passed a few hours earlier. I had thought that the island was more appeasing to me than Savannah itself, which in turn nearly had me change my life's course in moving to this location about a year after my trip. I came to see Savannah and what did I find, Tybee Island.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IumnmhnPJKQ
(Georgia On My Mind - Ray Charles)
leaves me in a profound need to go see this place.
Not just any place, or any numerous city wonders of Georgia - such as Atlanta. But a very special town, specific to the nature of the author's journey. Maybe that journey is what compelled me to make my own to Savannah.
I shouldn't of been so pressed with leave from work and the time chosen. Mid winter, yet that in itself lead to the nature of appeal left frozen in my mind from the pages I had read. Was it ideally the way the author had described? Yet his fond description was that of summer. What did I expect to find?
It was only a brief getaway, but worth it never the less. A mini vacation... I tend to do those quite often. Before I ventured, I dreamed of 2 children running around the hallways in a candle lit plantation house. Strange, as if some part of Savannah was reaching out to me before I arrived.
When I did arrive, I found myself in the midst of winter, with not as much festivities or occasions to attend. Although, tourism knows no halt based on just weather. I booked a cozy bed and breakfast down one of the many historic streets that ran rampid to and fro. I missed every single breakfast, as I chose to utilize my vacation for some long overdue sleeping in.
All throughout the town one can find statues, memoirs of personal and historical events, plaques, memorials, graveyards. As a matter of fact, half of the houses and streets in use today are actually built over the remains of many lost souls... as the majority of Savannah is a graveyard in itself. Just happens the population ran out of room to build, so they built on top of the old sacred grounds. Interesting.
The architecture is truly amazing from this time frame and one can recapture the feel of living just by being in the area. The homes and mansions, each unique and appreciated.
Nearly all buildings contain haint blue (represents water) in their construction somewhere, usually found in the doorways. A sense of evil eye for this area, or that of the passover with blood - it is to warn off evil spirits. Of course I also went on a ghost tour, it wouldn't be a visit to Savannah without one. The tour was at night and leads you to the Colonial Park Cemetery. I went back during the day to snoop around. It is an interesting thing, reading tombstones from all over... you never know what stories have been left behind as immortal memoirs.
The cold-chilled winter air prevented me from doing much site seeing on foot, especially at night. So one evening, I decided to take a horse and buggy tour across the many squares and parks. A warm thick wool blanket accompanied me in the dark airy night. There are 24 squares in total, 3 which have nearly disappeared into time. This form of transportation literally transported me back in time... to an era without any other means of traveling other than a horse and buggy, and the guide filling my ears with history. History, which had lead me here to begin with.
The Riverfront, absolutely my favorite. Consisting of 19th century architecture restored. Did you know that these buildings were the cotton warehouses and the central trade area? There is this candy shop on the corner where you can purchase the best red licorice in the world. But my most favorite shop on this thoroughfare happens to be the kite shop. After purchasing a really unique kite (which I and others still have not been able to get in flight), I decided to treat myself to dinner at the River House Seafood Restaurant. I don't do much with bread, but this place had a savory honey wheat potato bread that I actually bought 2 loaves to take with me. And the food from the ocean was just delightful - blue crab cakes and a caesar! Come to find out you can actually order baked goods from them anywhere in the U. S., http://www.riverhouseseafood.com/. After dinner I sat and watched the famous tactics of the Savannah Georgia Boat Fire Brigade. That was a real treat!
I ventured into the night life as well, and found a club that suited my needs downstairs. I took this picture of the stairwell, as it spawned my creativeness to venture down wall murals as a side job. I thought to myself, that's easy enough, and I could make money!
As usual, I can't afford to go to all the museums and art facilities places offer, let alone have the time. So I always research, if you will, all in the area and pick one if not two to indulge in. This trip called for a very special house, the Owens-Thomas House presented by the Telfair Museum, depicting symmetrical English Regency architecture. The designer, William Jay, had built it so that every side in every detail was identical to the other side. So if there was a doorway on the left leading somewhere, there was a doorway on the right leading nowhere. If you can't tell why I chose this as the final cut for the seeing, hehe. Out back one could find the servants quarters and a gift shop filled with fine things and antiques.
In 1794, my ancestors landed and founded The Pirate's House. A tavern which lead to the great tale of Treasure Island. Har Har Mateys!
On foot, nearly the last day of my stay, I found the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist. This looming structure was built in 1833 and still stands in awe in the middle of the historic district. I went inside, as the doors were open that day, to look around. Even though I am not a religious person, I always buy a candle (to help promote funding in upkeep of the architectural beauties, along with postcards) and light it when in the transept.
In a must see journey to capture some piece of history based on the book, I ventured towards the Bonaventure Cemetery.
This location is quite off the main fairways of historic Savannah, as it is right next to the Savannah River. There Johnny Mercer wrote the song Moon River and was also burried. I sat on his memorial. It is a bench, " Ac-cent-tchu-ates The Positive - Autumn Leaves - Blues In The Night - Charade - Jeepers Creepers - Laura - Moon River - My Shining Hour - On The Atchison Topeka & Santa Fe / Come Rain Or Come Shine - The Days Of Wine and Roses - Hooray For Hollywood - In The Cool, Cool, Cool Of The Evening - One For My Baby - Something's Gotta Give - That Old Black Magic - You Must Have Been A Beautiful Baby".
Then of course it wouldn't be fitting if I did not find the infamous Bird Girl statue, that donned the cover of the book that brought me here. Later in years, a girlfriend and myself attended a performance of the book acted solely by the author with a piano, and of course the infamous Chibli. It was quite a different rendition of any artistry I had seen, and I enjoyed it quite thoroughly.
Being so far away from my original destination... I decided to explore, which lead to the island. It was overcast and grey. The road from Bonaventure Cemetery lead over a bridge
and stretched far off into Georgia's bayou of nature.The road surrounded by water and mangroves, passed an old lighthouse in disrepair. Once at the island itself, it reminded me of small beach locations where everything was situated on a strip with a handful of tourism appeals and hotels. Yet, here it felt different. It was not commercialized and had a small town feel. At the end of the isle was a tall, looming black and white working lighthouse. Unfortunately, it was late in the evening when I did arrive and closing times had passed a few hours earlier. I had thought that the island was more appeasing to me than Savannah itself, which in turn nearly had me change my life's course in moving to this location about a year after my trip. I came to see Savannah and what did I find, Tybee Island.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IumnmhnPJKQ
(Georgia On My Mind - Ray Charles)
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