Pre-Penumbral Eclipse Moon over Denbighshire

Moon over Denbighshire, originally uploaded by loscuadernosdejulia.

I don't drive, so in the car I am always a passenger. I am relieved of the driver's distress of driving in pitch black; naturally, I quite enjoy riding on empty road in the darkness.

My friend and I went to Denbighshire in Wales, spending merely one night over in the lands of wizards. We ended up getting lost, and this photo was taken when we stopped, exhausted and concerned, on one such road. I have no idea how they are maintained or how people are expected to drive. Being an urban girl, I am perhaps a bit too used to having streetlights every 5 metres, so when there is none it does feel like a big deal.

Yet at the same time there is something beautiful about not having any streetlights around. These rural areas give us a perfect opportunity to experience the life in by-gone days. Cars have lights; horses don't. Is there any wonder that so often do we read how 17-18th cc. travellers stayed and spent a night at the inn? They didn't want to get lost, nor did they want to be robbed.

The beautiful thing about our trip and this particular photo is that they occurred just one day before the Penumbral Lunar Eclipse. What I like personally is the fact that the tiny white spot you can see a few inches below the Moon is the Moon's reflection in the pond or river. And the Moon itself is seen among the clouds, above some hills.

Via Wikipedia article I also landed on Fourmilab blog of John Walker who lives in Switzerland and who undertook a painstaking task of documenting this lunar eclipse on film. With the help of the Nikon camera and lens and some assistance from Adobe programs, John has brought to us the image of this miracle.

I did not do any contrast stretching or other adjustments to the luminosity transfer function. Within the limits of the camera and the software tools in the workflow, this is what the image plane sensor saw. And it saw the penumbral eclipse! Look at the lower left side of the image above, and you can see the effect of the Earth partially obscuring the Sun painted upon the Moon. Few people have ever perceived this visually—certainly I did not; the Moon's disc was sufficiently blinding both before the eclipse and at its maximum that there was no clue such a subtle eclipse was underway. And yet a digital camera and a modicum of image processing can dig out from the raw pixels raining upon us from the sky what our eyes cannot see.

Wonders and Love: From Taj Mahal to Jacques Prevert

S'il n'y avait que sept merveilles du 'monde' sur la terre, cela ne vaudrait pas la peine d'y aller voir (J. Prevert) - If there were only seven wonders of the 'world' on Earth, it wouldn't be worth going to see them. 

Il n'y a pas cinq ou six merveilles dans le monde, mais une seule: l'amour (J. Prevert). - There are no five or six wonders in the world, but the one and only: Love.

A part of this post was written on 24 August 2006; another part - on 29 November 2009. They say that Prevert who is one of my favourite poets shared a discreeet but profound love with the woman in his life. This shines forth in Prevert's poetry, and is something I absolutely share.

The photo is, of course, that of Taj Mahal, a magnificent and inspiring mausoleum erected in memory of the beloved wife of the Mughal emperor. Here is a text from the official tourism website:

Mumtaz Mahal was the third wife of the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan. It was in her memory that he built the magnificent monument of love and romance, known as the "Taj Mahal". Mumtaz Mahal, a Muslim Persian Princess, was originally known as Arjumand Banu Begum. So enthralling was her beauty that Shah Jahan (then Prince Khurram) fell in love with her at the first sight. Their marriage was solemnized five years later and from then on, started one of the most popular love stories of the world. Although she was the third wife of Shah Jahan, but at the same time, she was also his favorite. He even bestowed her with the name Mumtaz Mahal and the highest honor of the land - the royal seal, Mehr Uzaz.

Mumtaz Mahal became an inseparable companion of her husband till her death. She even accompanied him on his military endeavors and provided him with her counsel. Infact, she was a pillar of support, love and comfort to the emperor. Mumtaz Mahal gave birth to fourteen children of Shah Jahan. It was during the birth of their 14th child only that she left for the holy abode. It is said that she obtained a promise from Shah Jahan that he will build world's most beautiful monument in her memory. Whether this was true or not, but, Shah Jahan did build a magnificent monument as a tribute to her life. Today, it counts amongst the Seven Wonders of the World and is known as "The Taj Mahal".

To learn more about the monument, go to Taj Mahal official website. The photo credit belongs to Prakhar.

De Colada Entre Muertos

De Colada Entre Muertos, originally uploaded by AanikaP.

Back in 2007 I blogged photos by Jez who visited the Sedlec Ossuary in Czech Republic. It is a stunning monument, although by no means the only such one in the world.

Read the full post Memento Ossis: Remember the Bones to learn about Sedlec and other ossuaries elsewhere in the world.

The photo by AanikaP offers a different treatment of the topic, which I found amusing. It is almost a reverberation of the theme of the Death and Maiden that was very popular in Art, particularly in the Middle Ages.

What They Do at Manchester Town Hall

Manchester Session 7, originally uploaded by loscuadernosdejulia.

The day I went out in Manchester for a photo session with a photography student (back in October) we ended up walking into the Town Hall (that houses Manchester City Council) and asking for a permission to take some photos. The answer would certainly be "yes", but the student made a cardinal mistake by explaining that we wanted to make some "crazy pictures".

The receptionist said he would have to dial the number and call a person who would grant the permission.

Within 10 minutes the person had appeared, it was a pleasant gentleman, who inquired exactly what it was that we wanted to do. We explained what we were doing (namely, practising portraiture and modelling skills).

- As long as you stay dressed as you are, this is fine, - he said.

I must admit I was perplexed by his answer. I'd never have thought of undressing in the Town Hall. But it turned out that I was not too intrepid, after all.

- Well, they came to us and asked if they could do some photography, and then we saw them shooting fashion pictures in bikinis.

Shooting pictures in bikinis at the Town Hall? You must be joking, man!

Visit Manchester and Sweet Mandarin

More and more people are visiting Manchester these days, and admittedly there are more and more reasons to do so. FutureEverything (festival-formerly-known-as-Futuresonic), Manchester International Festival and Manchester Literature Festival, Queer Up North, you name it. This is not to mention the beloved Manchester United and the growing MediaCityUK in Salford Quays.

To help you glide effortlessly through the gamut of events, Visit Manchester maintains a very useful site that is now accompanied by a blog and a Facebook page. The work of a prodigious Mancunian all-rounder, Martin Bryant, both blog and FB page will keep you well updated about what's going on in our sunny city that occasionally boasts generous spells of rain.

When you visit Manchester, do pay a visit to Norther Quarter. The video below produced by Martin features Peter O'Grady, one of Manchester's official tour guides, who in the matter of 5 minutes will tell you a lot of interesting facts about this bohemian and very characteristic part of Manchester. When you are travelling to Manchester, you can also download an audio guide produced by Phil Nash at Walk Talk Tours.



And when you have seen everything Peter and Phil told you about and got sufficiently hungry, go to Sweet Mandarin - the little 'Chinese dragon' that has just been named the best Chinese restaurant in the UK by Gordon Ramsay (follow the link to read about the tough battle against Edinburgh-based Chop-Chop). Set away from the maddening hustle and bustle of Chinatown (and Yang Sing restaurant), Sweet Mandarin has long been one of the most innovative eateries in the UK, pioneering the use of Twitter, blog, and Flickr, to draw attention to the place. Family run, the restaurant is the place for regular get-togethers of Mancunian Twitterati and Flickr photographers, and the homebase of a cookery school. In short, if you ever wondered how to cook something with Social Media, Sweet Mandarin can teach you many a lesson.

I've eaten at Sweet Mandarin during Futuresonic 2009, it was one of the places that offered discounts to delegates. I had the pleasure of trying their signature Claypot Chicken dish... that was praised by Ramsay and his team. If my memory is correct, the dish is cooked after a family recipe, and it is delicious! (Should I have said "del.icio.us", to keep up with the SocMed tone?).

Above all, the restaurant staff is really friendly, attentive, and I am personally grateful for some advice they've given me. If or when you are visiting Manchester, do visit Sweet Mandarin. And in the meantime, if you are on Twitter, send them your greetings.  Congratulations on the deserved win!



(I took the photo during one the Twitterati meet-ups in 2009).

Thinking of Cex Exchange? Look No Further...

And now for something completely different... Back in January 2007 I received a strange leaflet through the post. It informed me that my Nokia mobile phone was at the wits end because the owner (=me) was flirting with other phones. Then it turned out that, thanks to someone's mistake at The Carphone Warehouse, I was thought to be a man.

(I have just read the post I wrote back then, and I must admit, with no excuses for being immodest, that I found it funny: Nokia Affair and the Change of Sex).

But having had a walk recently around Manchester, I've come to remember a saying "time goes, people change". What happens now, thanks to I-don't-know-what, is that sex change is no longer the limit to human opportunities.

There is now a "cex exchange". And it can be obtained just by Piccadilly train station.

These intrepid explorers are also rewriting the whole of mankind's history. "CeX", they tell us, "was founded in London in 1992".

I can now fully understand the famous "there is no sex in USSR". If so, then there was no sex anywhere prior to a pivotal day in London in 1992. To fill in the gap in historical perspective, there are relevant sections about "CeX People" and "CeX History".

Although all the above may not sound quite complimentary, I'm not intentionally taking the mickey out of the business. But together with domain names like "penisland" this is yet another example of how important it is to think about all aspects of branding, including the images the brand name provokes, when written or pronounced.

Besides, the English "c" is spelt exactly as the Russian "c" ([s]), and thus the image of a sex exchange (whatever that means) becomes even more vivid.

Manchester's Albert Square at Christmas

Albert, Santa, Poppy, and the Clock, originally uploaded by loscuadernosdejulia.

As a follow-up to the previous post, I decided to publish this photo of the festive Albert Square in Manchester, complete with the Town Hall, Santa Claus, the Albert Memorial, and even a poppy. Last year Santa went up really early: the picture was taken on November 5, 2008. I'm yet to visit Albert Square and its Christmas market, but I doubt the impression will be radically different from the one commemorated in this photo.

Rising Santa - Christmas Is Near

Rising Santa, originally uploaded by loscuadernosdejulia.

I took the picture the week before the Christmas lights officially went on. Apart from me, there were at least two more people who were commemorating this breathtaking rise on their mobile phones. Indeed I'm more used to seeing Santa already seated either on top of the Town Hall or atop this specially built entrance cover.

A good reminder that Christmas is just around the corner...

The Divine Canine and the Fingers of Galileo

Back in 2005, when I was contributing to one ezine, I wrote the article about medieval cults and saints that was picked up by several news aggregators and witches' websites. My understanding of what sites existed out there had instantly expanded.

Italy is making news this year, starting with two Leonardo da Vinci exhibitions in Manchester and a discovery of Leonardo's portrait over in Italy, a Venice Biennale, and now a new discovery: Galileo's fingers and a tooth.

The practice of removing body parts of saints and heros dates back to the time immemorial, and as Richard Allen Green, reporting for CNN, notes, it is somewhat bizarre that Galileo who was persecuted by the Church was subjected to a very religious act by his admirers. What this manifests is that Galileo, the inventor of the telescope, the discoverer of Jupiter's satellites, and the supporter of the Copernican heliocentric theory, was revered as a saint scientist. Interestingly, the body parts were only removed in 1737 - at the height of the Enlightenment, the period renowned for its scientific explorations and discoveries.

A Peregrinating (British) Library

I've always been surrounded by books, as you know. Since I came to England, I have amassed a darn good collection, too, which was occasionally but generously enriched by my mother. As a result, I've got books in English, Russian, and French, plus one or two in Latin, plus Italian, German and Spanish grammar books. Magazines and photocopies are not included. And yet the most wonderful thing to me is the sheer variety of items. There are a few museum catalogues and two Vogue editions, Unseen Vogue: The Secret History of Fashion Photography and People in Vogue: A Century of Portraits. Oh, and The Pirelli Calendar: 40 Years Complete.

In the years I've been in England people applied the word "random" to describe me. But, having been reading a wonderful book about Picasso recently, I can do nothing better than to quote his words:

When you come to think of it, I'm probably a painter without style. 'Style' is often something that ties the artist down and makes him look at things in one particular way, the same technique, the same formulas, year after year, sometimes for a whole lifetime. You recognise him immediately, but he is always in the same suit, or a suit of the same cut. There are, of course, great painters who have a certain style. However, I always thrash about rather wildly. I am a bit of a tramp. You can see me at this moment, but I have already changed, I am already somewhere else. I can never be tied down, and that is why I have no style.

(I photographed this selection in May 2008).

Horny Grazers in Heaton Park

Heaton Park - November 2009 - 12, originally uploaded by loscuadernosdejulia.

A couple of weekends ago I visited Heaton Park. Heaton Hall, unfortunately, is now closed until Easter when it will reopen. I love visiting the place for its air: it has the same effect on me as going to the British seaside, minus the train fare.

These lovely creatures were grazing not far from the entrance to the park, but I only came across them on my way back. I'd like to say that we paid little attention to each other... although I do wonder what could happen if these horny guys (excuse the pun!) were a bit less interesting in food.

Kate Moss, Skinny Feels, Personas, And PR

-Can She Actually Speak?-

A few weeks ago I read a feature in the brand new Stylist magazine about Kate Moss. Half-way through the interview I read this phrase that left me... well, speachless, if only for a moment.

...while Karaiskos steered Kate's profile and made the decision that she should never give interviews, ensuring her lasting mystique.

To this day I struggle to understand what it was that impressed me so profoundly. On the one hand, I realised that, indeed, Kate Moss's interviews are rare. And on the other hand, I remember this strange, almost surreal feeling as if I wasn't sure Kate Moss could speak at all.

Now, according to The Guardian,

When the supermodel Kate Moss, in a rare online interview this week, told readers that one of her mottos was "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels", the fallout was instant, vitriolic and damning.

I have no doubt that Paula Karaiskos has taught Kate Moss everything the model needed to know about handling both the press and the admiring crowd. And yet I wonder if sometimes she gets caught off guard with a question to which she wants to give an honest answer.


-People and Disorders-

In the last year or so I've come across a few people who've been experiencing eating disorders, cosmetic surgery disorders, all sorts of disorders that invariably have to do with our inner well-being. I have just been through a period when the work-related pressure had been so high that I experienced some kind of disorder myself. I also had to guard my finances rather tightly, and all in all this amounted to three months of extreme frugality. I've literally lived on bread and butter and some pasta all this time. A terrible experience for someone who'd been raised on and enjoys the home cooking. My prime comfort is in that I am a writer, and I am glad I had to experience all this in the privacy of my small flat, without travelling to the island of Tahiti or Parisian slums. My secondary comfort is in the fact that I have lost the weight that, to be fair, was excessive bearing in mind my figure, height, and age. The truth is that I have never been a "big eater", so the positive outcome of the stress is that I am back to eating what and however much or little I like. I am my normal self, neither my family's, nor the public's.

The truth is, for the purists on the other side of some fence, my experience will be drastic, terrible, awful, unhealthy, you name it. I agree: it is. And, frankly, there were even more bitter experiences. Sadly or not, all together they make life, and it can be dramatic enough without us making a special verbal effort to dramatise it.

There is a fascinating thing about public personas. There may be as little as three people in one. There may be a tightly concealed and guarded private self: the one that wakes up in bed and goes to the toilet every morning. Once this private self leaves the house and goes to do some Christmas shopping "in the flesh", we see the public side of their private self. For one, we may suddenly realise that these famous people do occasionally go to the shop and mix with more or less ordinary mortals. This is the side the News of the World hunts, since the paparazzi don't always manage to get a through-the-blinds peek at the famous person in his or her privacy.

And then there is the public self, and I can think of no better illustration than this saying by Rudolph Valentino: "Women are not in love with me but with the picture of me on the screen. I am merely the canvas on which women paint their dreams". The public self often emerges against the personal odds and doesn't necessarily have much to do with the private individual. The public self exists in public, for the public, and often at the mercy of the public opinion. Not quite a godsend to wish for.

A Very Quick Competition: Havana Cultura Final Launch

Almost a month after the launch events in the North of England Havana Cultura is coming back to Manchester for the definitive launch of Havana Cultura website, a window on contemporary Cuban creativity. In October we were treated to salsa and Havana Rum mojitos at Cord and Odd bars in Northern Quarter, and today, 19th November, we will be back to Mint Lounge at 9pm, to celebrate in the company of Gilles Peterson himself. The event will last until 2am.

As the press release tells us,

The series of gigs in both Leeds and Manchester will culminate in a live gig by Gilles Peterson.  Peterson will play an original, eclectic set inspired by his time in Cuba.  He will be joined on stage by DJ Simbad, a renowned French DJ/producer.  DJ Simbad has a weekly radio show Late Night on Metrodance FM and is signed to Swedish pop label Raw Fusion. There will also be an exclusive performance by the Havana Cultura Band which has been especially created for the project by Gilles Peterson.  

Something certainly worth looking forward to.


There are two free tickets to be had, and if you have nothing planned for tonight, why not join the happy crowd who will be dancing to the Cuban rhythms?

All you need to do is to email your answer to the question below before 7pm, together with your full name, phone number, and whether you are going alone or with a friend (remember there are 2 tickets). Alternatively, send me a direct message on Twitter with the answer and the mentioned details. There will be an entirely random draw, and the winner will be announced before 7.30pm, so be quick!

And the question is......

Q. Name the author of the Nobel Prize winning novel, The Old Man and the Sea, that was inspired by Cuba.  

Although this is probably clear, I'll still mention that this is for Manchester based folk - unless you can travel into Manchester by 9pm. 

Update: I'm sure a lot of you knew the answer, which is Ernest Hemingway. And the pair of tickets has been assigned, so hopefully I'll see the winners tonight :-)  

World Toilet Day // Bloggers Unite

World Toilet Day // Bloggers Unite

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One of my recent discoveries included the World Toilet Day. Back in 2006, they were celebrating the Global Orgasm Day ... three years later bloggers are called to unite in raising awareness of the world's sanitation crisis.

The event organisers address the public:

Imagine life without a toilet. No toilets in your home or at work, no public toilets, no toilets anywhere. Imagine the mess. Imagine the disease.


WaterAid is working hard to change this, using simple and low cost solutions, and there are many easy and fun ways you can get involved.

I don't know about "easy and fun ways" in which one can get involved in celebrating the World Toilet Day. I do know, however, about the times when there were no toilets. Those times are known as the Dark Ages. The examples of Western crusaders who succumbed to the Eastern delights in the form of the acts of personal hygiene had long become proverbial, having received notoriety through depictions in medieval chronicles.

Speaking of England - and I quote from The Dictionary of British Social History by L. W. Cowie -

water closet was known as early as 1597 when Elizabeth I's godson, Sir John Harington, described one he had erected at Kelston, near Bath. The Queen had it tried at her palace at Richmond, but it did not come into general use until it was re-invented by Alexander Cummings in 1775 and Joseph Bramah in 1778.

As we can see, the post-Roman Europeans have lived with a toilet for little longer than 230 years, equalling a nearly 10 generations' span. Yet this is the example when a good thing instantly becomes indispensable to the extent when not having it becomes a matter of life and death.

You may like to check out The Wordsworth Dictionary of British Social History (The Wordsworth Collection Reference Library)

Speaking of "toilet affairs" and the month of November: in de Sade's 120 Days of Sodom, November was the month of "simple passions" that included coprophagia. As it is uniquely related to the toilet issues, it is a bizarre coincidence that the World Toilet Day is also celebrated in the month of November, although this can hardly be even considered as intentional.

The Story of Sara Barabu (with a bit of Edith Piaf)

As you know now, I finally got to listen to Secret 's music much later than I should have done . About the same time I was already listening to Edith Piaf, and I first couldn't believe my ears when I heard what sounded like an evident borrowing from the song Milord. Many years later, when I had the change to revisit both songs, I was entirely convinced that Piaf's theme from Milord did feature in Sara Barabu.

The Russian translation is under the cut.

Secret - One Thousand Vinyls

I still vividly remember how a clip "I Love Boogie-Woogie" by the Russian beat band, Secret , was coming up on TV, and my mother was switching channels despite my protests. I was deeply saddened... and years later, after injections of the Western rock-n-roll, I finally got my hands on an audio cassette with Secret's songs.

I'm not sure what I should better cite. "Better later than never"? Or "qui sera sera"? I guess both are fitting.

Making their entrance onto the Soviet musical stage in the 1980s, Secret was one of the first rock-n-roll "boy bands" to enjoy a massive popularity. I haven't listened to their songs for 6 years, i.e. all the time I've been in the UK, and listening to them now I first and foremost note their distinctly well written texts. And good catchy tunes, of course. The band consisted of three guitarists and one drummer, and in their early videos from 1980s they were consciously exploiting parallels with The Beatles.

The song '1000 Vinyls' will undoubtedly be near and dear to the hearts of many music fans for all the right reasons. It's also one of the songs I enjoy singing because of its fairly complex chorus.

Under the cut is the English translation (not adapted to the music).

Beat Band Secret - One Thousand Vinyls
by avidadollars

My Christmas Dress

Christmas Dress, originally uploaded by loscuadernosdejulia.

As I'm writing this post, it is raining outside, and I'm elated that the winter season as we know it in the North West, with strong winds and endless rains, has finally started. I almost began to feel depressed when the sun was still dazzling at the end of October.

We know now that I love knitting, and this lovely dress is one of the latest creations. I'm not even going to care if I sound immodest because I love it myself. It's cosy, funky, sexy, unique, and ended up being very stylish. It is designed by me and was inspired by the stripy tights I have that feature the same green, blue, and red colours.

That's how far one can go when they have different colours of yarn at home.

I was having a lot of coffee meetings recently, and the other day I ended up at Costa Coffee in Market St in Manchester. This cafe is located in what used to be a bank or building society, is quite spacious, and this helps Costa successfully withstand competition from Caffe Nero that shares the wall with Costa, and from Starbucks that sits just across the road. They do love coffee in the U.K.

As my coffee mate and I were getting up to leave, a member of staff appeared next to me:

- Oh, I see, you've made this dress for Christmas, right? With a bit of green and red...

Well, if truth be told (which I have told at the beginning of this post), this was not designed as a Christmas dress. But there is certainly something about it. So, considering I can wear this dress pretty much any time of the year, except the hot summer days, I've created the precondition for having a special Movable Feast all to myself.

Everyone Wants to Understand Art

Everyone wants to understand art. Why don't we try to understand the songs of a bird? Why do we love the night, the flowers, everything around us, without trying to understand them? But in the case of a painting, people think they have to understand. If only they would realise above all that an artist works of necessity, that he himself is only an insignificant part of the world, and that no more importance should be attached to him than to plenty of other things that please us in the world, though we can't explain them. People who try to explain pictures are usually barking up the wrong tree. 


People want to find a 'meaning' in everything and everyone. That's the disease of our age, an age that is anything but practical but believes itself to be more practical than any other age. 


I object to the idea that there should be three or four thousand ways of interpreting my pictures. There ought to be no more than one, and within this interpretation it should be possible, to some extent, to see nature, which after all is nothing but a kind of struggle between my inner being and the outer world. 


Is there anything more dangerous that being understood? All the more so, as there is no such thing. You are always misunderstood. You think you aren't lonely, but in actual fact you are even more lonely.

Pablo Picasso (1881-1973)

If You Don't Do It, It Doesn't Exist

Great films can teach us more than what their makers plan while filming. The story quoted below can be found in Paul Arden's book, and it amply demonstrates how far one can go for a cause.

When It Can't Be Done, Do It. If You Don't Do It, It Doesn't Exist. 


A new idea can be either unfamiliar, or silly, or both. 


It can't be judged by description. It needs to be done (made) to exist. 


It is unlikely that anyone will sanction the cost of something they don't understand, therefore you have no choice but to do it yourself. 


At whatever cost. 


You may have to beg, steal and borrow to get it done. But that's for you to work out how you do it. 


It's exciting. 


It's difficult and it's fun. 


If it was easy anyone could do it. 


The film Citizen Kane  is a very good example. It was stolen not sanctioned. 


Orson Welles could not find any backers, but he did raise a small sum for casting. 


He begged, borrowed and cajoled people into building sets and shooting full-blown screen tests which eventually formed a third of the film. 


IT EXISTED. 


Backers could see what they were getting. He got the money. 


Without him doing it when it supposedly couldn't be done, it would be another in the endless list of ideas that never happened. 

Image credit: The Joblo Movie Network .

Can You Really Not Earn Money With Poetry?

A long time ago I had a conversation with someone who was considering to be a man-of-letters. The person was meeting the difficult subject heads on.

'It would be nice to write poetry', he said, 'and I do like writing poetry. But it doesn't sell. I won't be able to earn money with it. And I need to earn money. That's why I'll be writing prose'.

Without being ironic, I think this was a very sensible line of argument. I heard it in 2001, if not 2000 - a long time ago. Today, in 2009 I was checking my emails, one of which was from a poet. As becomes Gmail, I was served "relevant ads", including the one in the screen grab, from Blogit.com:

So, without much ado, just as you can earn zillions by instant blogging, so you can earn money the moment you start writing poetry. And if it does sound like I'm uttering things then I'm simply using the extreme example. As we know, WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get) is increasingly becoming very rare.

She Stared at My Open Window...

...protected by nothing except bikinis made of leopard skin and boots (it is almost mid-November, after all). Her gaze was inviting, and her dark locks flowed freely down her shoulders, entwining with the glossy waves of her blonde friend who sat by her side, wrapped up in tiger skin.

In over a year that I lived in my apartment I got to see all sorts of things from my "rare window". But to have two sexy women pushing their faces into my flat was, erm, different. I knew - of course, I knew - these two sirens would be gracing the cover of a large truck, tall enough to cover my entire window from the view, and I was not wrong. And yet... it was a peculiar sight to behold. Which is why I commemorated it in pictures and in a post.

Jean-Paul Sartre on Poetry

Poetry is a case of the loser winning. And thr genuine poet chooses to lose, even if he has to go so far as to die, in order to win. <...> Thus, if one absolutely wishes to speak of the commitment of the poet, let us say that he is the man who commits himself to lose. This is the deeper meaning of that tough-luck, of that curse with which he always claims kinship and which he always attributes to an intervention from without; whereas it is his deepest choice, the source, and not the consequence of his poetry. He is certain of the total defeat of the human enterprise and arranges to fail in his own life in order to bear witness, by his individual defeat, to human defeat in general. Thus, he challenges, as we shall see, which is what the prose-writer does too. But the challenge of prose is carried on in the name of a great success; and that of poetry, in the name of the hidden defeat which every victory conceals. 

It goes without saying that in all poetry a certain form of prose, that is of success, is present; and, vice versa, the driest prose always contains a bit of poetry, that is, a certain form of defeat; no prose-writer is quite capable of expressing what he wants to say; he says too much or not enough; each phrase is a wager, a risk assumed; the more cautious one is, the more attention the word attracts; as Valery has shown, no one can understand a word to its very bottom. Thus, each word is used simultaneously for its clear and social meaning and for certain obscure resonances - let me say, almost for its physiognomy. The reader, too, is sensitive to this. At once we are no longer on the level of concerted communication, but on that of grace and chance; the silences of prose are poetic because they mark its limits, and it is for the purposes of greater clarity that I have been considering the extreme cases of pure prose and pure poetry. However, it need not be concluded that we can pass from poetry to prose by a continuous series of intermediate forms. If the prose-writer is too eager to fondle his words, the eidos of 'prose' is shattered and we fall into highfalutin nonsense. If the poet relates, explains, or teaches, the poetry complex becomes prosaic; he has lost the game. It is a matter of structures, impure, but well-defined.

From What Is Literature (translated by Bernard Frechtman, with introduction by David Caute; Routledge Classics, 2003, p. 26)

A Selection of Poetry

The poems in this presentation have already appeared on this blog, but I assembled them in a different format, to move closer to my long-sought goal. The poems are in three languages, all translations are done by me, and Dejeuner du Matin was rewritten in a male voice in December 2007.

Julie Delvaux - Poetry

View more presentations from Julia S.

Some Saturday Music - Rafaella Carra

A friend of mine shared this video clip with us before jetting off to Ibiza in summer. I have been hooked since, even though I can only recognise certain words in Spanish (corazon de vagabundo sounds particularly familiar). The text of the song makes sense although I'd still not attempt to translate it... but if you know Spanish and can help, please do!



Por si acaso se acaba el mundo
todo el tiempo he de aprovechar,
corazon de vagabundo
voy buscando mi libertad

he viajado por la tierra
y me he dado cuenta de que
donde no hay odio ni guerra
el amor se convierte en rey

Tuve muchas experiencias
y he llegado a la conclusion
que perdida la inocencia
en el Sur se pasa mejor

Para hacer bien el amor hay que venir al sur
para hacer bien el amor e ir donde estas tu
sin amantes!
quien se puede consolar
sin amantes!
esta vida es infernal

Para hacer bien el amor hay que venir al sur
lo importante es que lo hagas con quien quieras tu...
y si te deja no lo pienses mas...
... buscate otro mas bueno
vuelvete a enamorar!!!

Todos dicen que el amor
es amigo de la locura.
Pero a mi que ya estoy loca
es lo unico que me cura
Cuantas veces la inconciencia
rompe con la vulgaridad
venceremos resistencias
para amrnos cada vez mas

Tuve muchas experiencias
y he llegado a la conclusion
que perdida la inocencia
en el Sur se pasa mejor....

Para hacer bien el amor hay que venir al sur
lo importante es que lo hagas con quien quieras tu...
y si te deja no lo pienses mas...
... buscate otro mas bueno
vuelvete a enamorar!!!

Para hacer bien el amor hay que venir al sur
lo importante es que lo hagas con quien quieras tu...
y si te deja no lo pienses mas...
... buscate otro mas bueno
vuelvete a enamorar!!!

... Buscate otro mas bueno
vuelvete a enamorar!!!!!!!!!!!!

(found here).

Buy a Picasso, Save the Planet

Pratically hours after I briefly talked about saving the planet with the help of Social Media at the monthly Social Media Cafe, the UK-wide campaign to cut down emissions by 10% by 2010 has set off an art bomb. They got their hands on an original, signed Picasso and are offering it up for grabs, provided you pay £10.10 to enter the competition. And you can buy yourself as many chances as you like before the 31th of January deadline. The magic hat computer database will then produce one lucky white rabbit who will receive their genuine treat to hang up on the wall. All entry fees will go towards supporting the green cause.

Sadly, the competition is for the UK citizens only, but this will undoubtedly provide some food for thought to other green organisations elsewhere in the world. I have no idea where they'd get their Picassos from (or Matisses, or Leonardos, for that matter), but something will surely be spurred by this marriage of art and ecological initiative.

PS: I know the title is somewhat misleading. You are winning a Picasso, of course. However, because you are buying yourself chances to win the painting, you are effectively buying a Picasso. Not for a princely sum... although that may depend on how many times you choose to enter. 

Turner And The Masters - Now With a Special Quiz from Tate

I cannot complain about the number of lovely presents I have receivied, but to have an app dedicated by Tate Britain on Twitter is very different, so many thanks for such a wonderful surprise. Admittedly, I am not the only recipient: I am in the company of great Twitter folk who enthusiastically took part in discussing The Guardian's article back in September. You have read my contribution in this post: The Masters We Choose: Turner vs. Old Masters.

I am not going to tell you who won when I attempted the quiz, although I state that I was not cheating. I was as honest a critic as I could be. Turner goes against Rubens, Rembrandt, Canaletto, and Titian, among others, and the pop-up windows give you a chance to have a close look at the paintings.

To take a quiz, go to Turner & The Masters. And at the end of it you may like to fill in a form for a chance to win a special Turner goodie bag. What's in it? Hmmm, you'll have to do the quiz to find out!