Oslo waxed lilac overnight. Fat and elegantly bunched, they waited until we were asleep to arrive, to place themselves in the trees and bloom. Where one week ago there were only the wet, black branches and sharply-new green leaves of a tardy spring, suddenly blossoms appeared. Purple and white. Immaculate…
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All posts tagged Poetry
My Birthday Wish: Ballet at the Mariinsky Theatre
Photo: St. Petersburg's Mariinsky Theatre. Photo via RussianTourism.com. Sometimes I'm such a girl. When Jonathan asked me what I wanted to do for my 30th birthday, I told him the truth, even though it felt like a pipe dream. I wanted to attend a ballet at St. Petersburg's legendary…
Taking The Pomegranate
Poetry is an important art form, and part of that import is in the inherent subjectivity of the genre. What you take away from a given poem will absolutely be different than what I take away from it. And isn't that marvelous? A single stream of thought on the page,…
Meandering - Volume III
In the poem Fire and Ice by Robert Frost, the speaker presents two schools of thought regarding the end of the world: SOME say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it…
Awakening the Root
I dedicate this entry to my husband, the best man I've ever known. Happy 5th Anniversary, Mr. Jonathan Peter Camp! Five years ago, I stole down the curving staircase in my parents' home, an undulating cloud of white train and veil in my wake. My hands met Jonathan's first, anxious…
For Love of the Fair
Every year, Jonathan and I spend a Saturday at the Alameda County Fair. We make kissy noises at the baby animals, marvel at the talent of the amazing Alaskan Racing Pigs, holler from the grand stand at the horse track ("Come on, Dover! Move your bloomin' ARSE!"), and eat terribly…
Annabel Lee
- Edgar Allen Poe - It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by…
Remembering Grandma Jean
My mom's mom, my Grandma Jean, passed away before I was born. Taking from the scraps of memory and reminiscence and photos and memorabilia I've collected over the years, I know she was a bright, beautiful, sensitive, creative, troubled, clouded, precious soul. In the picture at left, she's bent at…