On Life, Thoughts

Thank you, Tom Petty

“You belong among the wildflowers. You belong in a boat out at sea.
Sail away, kill off the hours. You belong somewhere you feel free.”

Growing up, Tom Petty was a staple in my musical diet. His songs served as the perfect summer playlist—not that I didn’t play them year-round anyway. I guess as a student, summer has always meant a bit of relaxation to me, so that’s what I mean when I say Tom Petty’s music is the perfect summer playlist. I mean it is the perfect relaxation playlist. Even the upbeat songs have an everlasting chill vibe—a free vibe.

Continue reading “Thank you, Tom Petty”

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On Life, Thoughts

Content consciousness and calm clarity

Today I treated myself to lunch at my favorite café in town.

I ordered a small pot of green apple green tea, a sweet ham and turkey panini with marion pickles, and a cup of she-crab soup. I sat near the door and welcomed in the chilly autumnal air that swept across my cheeks with the entrance and exit of customers.

With my cell phone on silent in my purse, I ate my meal slowly, savoring each bite and each moment of quiet reflection as I watched passerbys on the street.

Continue reading “Content consciousness and calm clarity”

Photography

Photo Friday: The Midst of Winter

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check back every Friday at lunch time for a new photo.

Uncategorized

Word Wednesday: Foreboding

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This Wednesday’s word is: Foreboding (noun) fearful apprehension; a feeling that something bad will happen (adjective) implying or seeming to imply that something bad is going to happen. 

The challenge? Use this in some form of your writing this week. Whether it’s a poem, short story, a chapter, or an article, slip this word in, and then tag Sitting in Spilt Ink in it on Twitter (@Spiltinkblog) for a chance to be featured on the site! 

Poetry

Kalman Lis: World Why Are You Silent

When you have not the right words yourself, share the words of another. -hrg

I know this will be no more than a poem,
a poem formed in rhythm and rhyme,
perhaps it will speak to the spirit
and not be just a poem wasting time..

For can there be any sense and worth
in the wielding and clashing of swords,
bloodied again and again
cutting wounds in the heart of earth

But still a force in me drives to act
like the eagle tears cages to fly to the field
a wolf fights his trap to flee to the forest
and the trunk of the oak sends blossom to branch

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Cell block 11 at Auschwitz Concentration Camp. (Photo Credit/H.R. Gordon)

Where is your heart and your conscience world?
Give heed to the beatings of killers!!
See the Jew for he has planted your field
with growth of love and spirit.

The Jew because he’s just a Jew
and not German, -not Aryan pure
but he whose child’s sign is Semite
has dared to birth God himself.

Oh world why are you silent, come and see,
the Hun going wild on your lap,
who has after one thousand years of cultural age
revealed he is Woton in savage rampage.

So what if he presents himself now as refined
and instead of animal pelt he wears clothes,
a brown buttoned sleek uniform
he spreads hate speech to poison minds?!

So what if only yesterday he was

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The gates to Auschwitz read “Work sets you free.”

a Goethe, Beethoven and Kant,
toda he is a wild fire that burns
Any trace of free spirit in the land.

Oh world I call to you and I will not tire,
though I’m a fool to hope for your help –
I am after all no more than a Jew
with faith in more than the strength of himself

See the boots of the brute that trample on him.
and where there’s a whip, it falls on his skin,
Yet one thing I still own and believe in –
my faith in the red dawn of tomorrow.

But my faith defies reality
which beats hail on me in this life.
Oh world, I might as well tear out all my hair
and run wild like the gone-crazy wife.

Who one night on the way to “no man’s land”
driven by a pack of brown dogs,
with her own hands inside her womb
tried to tear out the child from herself

Oh horror – she could not tie the cord,
attached to the navel, carried in terror
and finally with curses from her mouth
fell dead on the unknown road

Oh world forgive that I now sing so gray
and draw scenes for you gruesome, and dark.
I wanted a song – but these words are true
just now come from my crucified heart.

 

Continue reading “Kalman Lis: World Why Are You Silent”

Photography

Photo Friday: Contemplation

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Thoughts

Amazon Prime original series explores life of Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald

If I could create a decade as glitzy and glamorous as the 1920s and omit the z-the-beginning-of-everythingoppression of women and minorities and the economic crash soon thereafter—I would. I love the idea of the ‘20s. Well, I love “The Great Gatsby” idea of the ‘20s.

When I first read “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald, I was enthralled. It quickly became one of my favorite books. When the film was released, I couldn’t have been happier with Leo DiCaprio’s performance. So when advertisements for “Z: The Beginning of Everything” began popping up on my Facebook, I couldn’t resist being drawn in.

The Amazon Prime original series isn’t a re-hash of “The Great Gatsby.” It’s the story of F. Scott Fitzgerald, played by David Hoflin, and Zelda Sayre, played by Christina Ricci. Zelda, Fitzgerald’s wife, greatly influenced his writing. And as much as I love Fitzgerald, I think I love Zelda more. She’s noted for being wild and outspoken; Fitzgerald dubbed her “the first flapper.” She wrote extensively in her journals, and much of that writing inspired Fitzgerald; although inspired may be a gentle word. Fitzgerald used direct quotes from her journal without her consent on a number of occasions.

The name of the show comes from a Fitzgerald quote: “I love her, and that’s the beginning and the end of everything.” He might be a bit prophetic in his statement. The pair’s tumultuous romance was marked with overindulgence, booze, and passionate arguments. But the show begins, well, at the beginning. The pilot episode, released Nov. 3, 2015, explores Zelda and Scott’s first meeting, Zelda’s relationship with her family, and her carefree attitude. She fights with her father, dances with many different men, and does as she damn well pleases. Ricci’s performance is spot on.

Zelda is—in my eyes—a total feminist badass. She is the embodiment of independence and boldness. She is uniquely herself and will not apologize for it. I admire that.

Amazon will release the full first season of “Z: The Beginning of Everything” Jan. 27, and if you are at all a fan of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s work, I highly recommend you watch it.

Uncategorized

Word Wednesday: Ecstatic

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This Wednesday’s word is: Ecstatic (adjective): 1. feeling or expressing overwhelimg happiness or joyful excitement 2. involving an experience of mystic self-transcendence

The challenge? Use this in some form of your writing this week. Whether it’s a poem, short story, a chapter, or an article, slip this word in, and then tag Sitting in Spilt Ink in it on Twitter (@Spiltinkblog) for a chance to be featured on the site! 

On Writing, Thoughts

How do you write?

I bet you didn’t know today was National Handwriting Day—and to be fair, I didn’t either until I stumbled upon the Twitter hashtag.

Although I do a plethora of writing by hand—journaling, letter-writing, list-making, scheduling—it struck me that I don’t write most of my prose by hand anymore. I believe the last story I wrote completely by hand was five years ago. Technology has consumed that part of my life. I used to carry a notebook for ideas; now I simply jot them in the “notes” section of my iPhone. When I’m interviewing someone for an article, my laptop comes along. While I usually still have a notebook and pen on me, what could be deemed my most important writing is almost exclusively written and saved electronically.

According to Forbes, National Handwriting Day was established in 1977 by Writing Instrument Manufacturers Association (WIMA). Forbes quotes WIMA saying, “Handwriting allows us to be artists and individuals during a time when we often use computers, faxes and email to communicate. Fonts are the same no matter what computer you use or how you use it and they lack a personal touch. Handwriting can add intimacy to a letter and reveal details about the writer’s personality. Throughout history, handwritten documents have sparked love affairs, started wars, established peace, freed slaves, created movements and declared independence.”

Perhaps the next time I write a story, I’ll sit down with a pen and paper. Hopefully by the the time it’s complete, I’ll be able to decipher my chicken scratch and find the words in the scribbles.

What’s your favorite way to write? Leave a note in the comments below. Let’s discuss!

-hrg

 

 

Photography

Photo Friday: Memory

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