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- Still Taking the Anti-Dote (to the Poison of Chaos) And an Art Note February 17, 2020
- Tricks of Light I January 3, 2020
- Covehithe Ochres and Gissing Whites: Hand-Made Paints from Foraged Pigment November 2, 2019
- Indeterminacy: The Blueberry Interlude: Cold Dyeing with Blueberry Stems October 15, 2019
- More Notes from a Melody Not Yet Written October 14, 2019
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Monthly Archives: April 2013
Every Friday authors from around the world gather around the virtual fireside of fellow WordPress blogger Rochelle Wisoff to share flash fiction stories of 100 words, all inspired – regardless of genre – by a common photograph, and exchange constructive … Continue reading
Rusalki, in Slavic Mythology, are unquietly dead and generally inhabit watery places such as lakes and rivers, but come ashore during the night to cause trouble, especially to bachelors, singing them to their doom, just like selkies and mermaids.
The opera is by Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904). Song To The Moon is from Act 1 and is the opera’s most popular aria.
So far, my rendition has not attracted any bachelors. I’ll keep at it. Continue reading
Following the wake-up call that was my auspicious accident and related dream, I’ve been engaged in a major clean-up of my life (mind and spirit and environment). It’s painful. I sat on the stairs and cried like a baby one … Continue reading
This is ‘Now Sleeps The Crimson Petal’ by Roger Quilter. The compositions of Quilter (1877-1953) are fast becoming favourites of mine. He is best known for his art songs and wrote more than a hundred; and was an influence on composers such as Peter Warlock. Much of his work is melancholic, which may have been a result of his disposition. His health was too fragile for him to enlist in the First World War and after the death of a nephew during World War II, he apparently descended into severe mental illness. He died a few days after his 75th birthday. Continue reading
Friday Fictioneers Flash Fiction: The Tree
A tree befriended me. It was a few years after World War II. We’d been allocated housing in a new estate. At our final meeting, I’d (at 11) just posted-off my first short story, about a girl befriended by a tree. Continue reading