Showing posts from October, 2018

Steeping: Rose Smoked Black Tea Recipe

The months of this year have exposed me to myself in ways that have been humbling and difficult to swallow. It's been harder to get out of bed. It's been scarier and lonelier and my faith in my mental and physical strengths have been on the receiving end of several beatings. I've been tired, indifferent and less productive. But there has not been desperation: I've not felt as though there were no hope, nor that things were not alright in a deeper sense. Rather, the belief that I am exactly where I need to be has stayed with me and with it were patience and a sense of calm, which I am very grateful for––including my awesome Guardian Angel. Perhaps despair has been kept at bay by the practice of expecting the best and worst to happen at any instance and also my lack of confidence in my intellect, emotions and abilities. After all, what is a feeling that moves one like a hurricane only to disappear, leaving just a few debris to be buried in memory? And how can one be

Analysis of Thomas Hardy’s Neutral Tones

Neutral Tones We stood by a pond that winter day, And the sun was white, as though chidden of God, And a few leaves lay on the starving sod; — They had fallen from an ash, and were gray. Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove Over tedious riddles of years ago; And some words played between us to and fro On which lost the more by our love. The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing Alive enough to have strength to die; And a grin of bitterness swept thereby Like an ominous bird a-wing. . . . Since then, keen lessons that love deceives, And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree, And a pond edged with grayish leaves. --- Life, no matter what form it takes, if one has the eyes to appreciate it, is an excellent poem. This is what Thomas Hardy helps one glimpse in both his prose and poetry. But my favorite thing about Hardy is his insistence on portraying the beauty of pain in several of its nuances, as a never en

Photography: Scarves to Carve October

in wraps of   wisdom-hued leaves––surrendering in tittering bantering chills.  --- JAO