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Since Gutter posts the photos of a politician's son photos, it is getting more and more interesting. Not sure how he manages to gather so much information, reading that is more complete than reading a newspaper. Guess he must have spent a lot of time doing research and study. If not, how can he understand the background of someone so clear.
Unfortunately, he has been blocked by Google and Blogger. He says:
This time Google/Blogger did not just block the blog but they suspended the whole account including Gmail, AdSense, Blogger, Reader and the entire Google Accounts system. Everything under that account is gone, like it wasn't even there to begin with.
Of course there are more, check out those blogs for other photos. But they are very adult and not office friendly. But it is really interesting to see the fight between Gutter with government of a country. He reallyl got the GUT.
In May of 1955, my sisters and I had chicken pox. Still have a small scar from that. My guess is that all the kids in our neighborhood and at school came down with it that spring. We called it "Chicken Pops."
Just as I was feeling unusually good and ready to draw again, I've come down with a second bout of shingles. The first was in spring of 2001 -- a time of continuing severe emotional stress for me. As you may already know, shingles is caused by the same virus as chicken pox. For many people the virus remains dormant for the rest of their lives. For others it becomes active in times when one's immune system is not working well or in times of emotional stress. Previous to recent years, I was plagued with frequent upper respiratory infections that would linger for weeks and weeks. I also suffered from environmental allergies -- a sign of immune system dysfunction. My immune system must be working relatively well now because I haven't had a cold for several years and have not suffered from allergies in the way I used to. Still experience emotional stress, though. Especially this past year.
The medical term for shingles is herpes zoster. Herpes means snake and zoster means girdle. In my first experience with herpes zoster, the "snake girdle" was at my waist on my right side and very painful. This time it is not as severe, with numerous small "snakes" attacking my right leg. I'm not one who is afraid of snakes, but I do have respect for them. I had a dream a few days ago that the pattern of the rash along the dermatomes was actually quite beautiful to see. A work of art. Something to look at with wonder and appreciation.
I'm wondering if there is something about feeling unusually good that is stressful for me. On the other hand, I'm approaching the first anniversary of R's death.
There's some blue sky, sunshine and bird song this morning. Yesterday I saw a pair of wood ducks out on Scudder Pond. Probably my favorite sign of spring.
As might be guessed, I'm not feeling well physically and will be taking time away from blogging for a few weeks. A good time for just plain book reading in bed. In a few weeks, it may be warm enough to have all the windows open and for some good long walks in the woods!
I've been meaning to post this ever since I found the link at Chatoyance, Lori Witzel's blog. Gave me much to think about. Especially liked the story about Tom Waits in traffic. Have not read anything by Elizabeth Gilbert but do like what she has to say here.
"Well, even in these depths of misery I felt my energy revive & said to myself, I shall get over it somehow, I shall set to work again with my pencil, which I had cast aside in my deep dejection, & I shall draw again, & ever since I have had the feeling that everything has changed for me, & now I am in my stride & my pencil has become slightly more willing & seems to be getting more so by the day. My over-long & over-intense misery had discouraged me so much that I was unable to do anything."
(Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh in a letter, p. 79 from THE LETTERS OF VINCENT VAN GOGH)
I'm re-reading the letters of Vincent van Gogh to his brother.
I've loved this song since the moment I first heard it. I couldn't help but see R "in the sky above, in the tall grass, in the ones I love." Still do. The album's liner notes said something like, "Somewhere a red-haired girl smiles." I smiled when I read that. I hadn't smiled quite like that in a long time.
Haven't been able to light the candle lantern on my porch lately because of wind. A few days ago I added a colander as an impromptu windbreak. It works!
Being able to see the home movies of R with his parents and his nine siblings throughout his childhood and part way through his teenage years is deeply affecting for me. As the date of R's death last year approaches, the recent gift of the home movies from R's sister fills me with gratitude. R and I were born within 24 hours of each other in 1949. He was a one year old in New Jersey. I was a one year old in California. There is healing for me in telling our story in words and photos and drawings and paintings. It wasn't all good. It wasn't all bad, either. It was something else.
It's still in the thirties here, but I took a short walk with a friend yesterday. This is a view from Marine Park, looking out at Bellingham Bay and the San Juan Islands:
Sunday 22th March, The Newspaper will publish my story as well. More truth from them because i did an interview online as well as i send them e-mail. Unlike the Lianhe Wanbao who said something which they fake. Also abit piss off with others countries newspaper as they also fake many things, even one came out with a picture of me. Waulau, this guy so ugly..Dunno why wanna fake me with this guy picture. Stupid reporter, how will i post my picture, i still wanna stay in singapore want lor...
There are so many photos being posted online, here I share some which leave me deep impression, and of course they have a top hit in ping.sg. Click on the source for more photos, just a few here. Do write to me, if you have any, then I can add in. Of course some of them from the blogs that I have followed.
Do you see the SHIT? OMG... the source is shown in the photo.
There are many more interesting, but some owners block the right click to download, so I don't bother to download now since they protect so much. Some I didn't provide the link, as already stated in the photos. Click on the source for more related photos, as I can only show one.
And I know the Gary Ng video download page is bandwidth exceeded. Lets see any one who have downloaded, do a good deed, upload somemore and send me the link, then I will put the new link up. Meanwhile just browse around my blog, I am sure there are many things as interesting as Gary Ng.
I have the same question that Dale asked in his comment on my post from a few days ago titled "FREEDOM." What to call the above image and others like it? Are they truly drawings?
They are not drawings in the traditional sense, but they are done using the same mind/eye/hand coordination required for drawing on paper. What is different is that I make the drawing/painting movements on my computer track pad, and those index finger/hand/arm movements result in marks on my laptop screen drawing plane.
On the other hand :-) , the process is much like fingerpainting. As I move my index finger on the computer track pad, I am reminded of childhood experiences of using my index finger to move fingerpaint around on paper to create images.
The now-obsolete Apple Painting program on my iBookG4 allows me to vary the size of the lines, to blend the lines as if I were using charcoal and to use various other functions that are much more tedious on a computer than simply drawing on paper. The program will easily make perfect circles and lines, if I choose, but I choose to draw freehand. The best thing about the process, especially given that I am unemployed, is that I don't have to buy art supplies, except for printer ink and paper to print the images on.
The resulting image on a computer screen, though, appears to be a woodcut or a linocut, a silk screen print or, possibly, a scratchboard drawing. I have so far used the term "trackpad drawing" to describe these images I have created freehand.
It's something like drawing a picture on packed beach sand with one's index finger, without touching the sand. I'd rather be on a Northern California beach drawing in the sand, but I can make the best of what is right at hand :-)
("A Question For The Teacher" is a trackpad drawing from several years ago by old girl of the north country. The day lilies are thriving this spring in that planter on my porch.)
R's sister emailed that she was sending me a DVD of their family's home movies. When I checked my mail yesterday, there it was. I had seen the home movies in R's family's living room in the distant past and never imagined that I would see that footage of R and his family again after all these years.
The home movie clip where the image above originated was probably taken in the winter of 1965("in the winter of '65, we were hungry, just barely alive" -- The Band), when we were 16, a year before R and I met, three years before he was drafted into the Army. When we were 52, he told me that he had almost died from a drug overdose just before he met me in December of 1966.
In my first days of friendship with R, he frequently surfed as well as fished at Miramar Beach, which is across Highway 1 and down the road from the house where he lived with his mother and father and six of his siblings, the youngest of whom were fraternal twins born in December of 1964. His oldest brother may well have been married by then. His next older brother was in the Army in Thailand. R had become the oldest one who lived at home. He had dropped out of high school and had started working odd jobs and possibly selling drugs. Somewhere I have a drawing I did of him as he stood facing the ocean with his fishing pole.
At 16, I was an extremely shy young woman who loved horses, the ocean, swimming, drawing, the Beatles and Bob Dylan --a girl who spent hours and hours in her bedroom reading books and other hours and hours walking great distances with our family's dog, exploring deep into the countryside outside of city limits. I was 16 and "never been kissed." My self-esteem was so low that I couldn't imagine that I ever would be kissed.
Unable to imagine that I would ever be married, I had the notion that I wanted to be a nurse, and so I volunteered in the pediatrics ward of a nearby hospital as a "Candy Striper," talking with childen who were hospitalized. It didn't take me very long to discover that my life, difficult as it appeared to me, had been a sheltered one. A young boy I talked with calmly told me that he was in the hospital because his father had stabbed him in the stomach with a knife. I had no idea what to say to him beyond that I was sorry that had happened to him. I was in way over my head, not sure at all that I could ever be useful as a nurse or anything else, for that matter. All I knew for sure was that now I wanted to be with R.
After having met R in December of my senior year in high school, I would drive my parents' car to the hospital on Sundays to volunteer my hours and then drive out to the coast, hoping to find R walking on the beach. I told him about the boy. He told me about his friend whose father would get drunk and chase him around the house with a knife. R told me that he never wanted to be a drunk. Drugs, yes. Alcohol, no.
When were 16, both of us listened closely to Bob Dylan and the Beatles. That year we would have been listening to Highway 61 Revisited and Rubber Soul:
"Like a Rolling Stone" "Tombstone Blues" "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry" "From a Buick 6" "Ballad of a Thin Man" "Queen Jane Approximately" "Highway 61 Revisited" "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" "Desolation Row"
and:
"Drive My Car" "Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)" "You Won't See Me" "Nowhere Man" "Think for Yourself" "The Word" "Michelle" "What Goes On" "Girl" "I'm Looking Through You" "In My Life" "Wait" "If I Needed Someone" "Run for Your Life"
It was R who called me from California in 2001 and let me know that George Harrison had died. Two weeks after he returned from Vietnam in 1970, he had given me a copy of George Harrison's double album, "All Things Must Pass" as a Christmas present. George Harrison and R both died from brain tumors, but R survived his first bout of lung cancer, going into remission in 2002 and living until April of 2008. He returned to drug and alcohol abuse in those years, and his capacity for physical and emotional abuse of me was clear. For my physical and emotional safety, I had to keep my distance. I detached from him -- first with fear, then with anger, then with love. Anger and fear alone would have killed me.
A year ago yesterday, R suffered acute respiratory failure at the VA hospital but was resuscitated and placed on a ventilator and feeding tube in the ICU. Although I was unaware of what had happened to R that Friday, I had a strong urge to call the VA hospital that weekend. Something else told me not to call but I struggled with that something else until Easter morning when I made the call.
His nurse must have thought I was his sister or another nurse and told me everything about his medical condition, including the part about the stage IV brain tumor. In shock, I just listened. She told me that as he was being transported to the ICU, she had asked him a question to see if he was oriented. He spoke in the only way he could, with a "thumbs up." When I heard that, I felt sure that he was going to be okay.
"I keep traveling around the bend There was no beginning, there is no end It wasn't born and never died There are no edges, there is no sides Oh yeah, you just don't win It's so far out -- the way out is in Bow to God and call him Sir But if you don't know where you're going Any road will take you there" (George Harrison)
"Unable are the Loved to die/For Love is Immortality" (Emily Dickinson)
In 2001,when we were 52, R said that the only thing real about him was his soul.
George Harrison quoted this on his last album:
"The soul does not love. It is love itself. It does not exist. It is existence itself It does not know. It is knowledge itself How to Know God, page 130"
You know, I'm not really expecting comments on all this, but it does help that I can write this story as best I can and be heard. Like the boy in the pediatrics ward, I just need to say what happened. That a person I loved and should have been able to trust hurt me. I was implicitly threatened with a Bowie knife on one occasion after R returned from Vietnam and then later struck and knocked to the floor by R, the person I loved more than anyone in the world. I had to leave him but continued to love him. That there were times that I wanted him to hurt, too. It has taken most of my life to sort that out. I can say now that I've come a long way. I'm finding it harder and harder to call it a love story, but it is a soul story.
This guy Gary Ng, nick name garyng174, or email: garyng174@hotmail.com, someone call him as "Singapore Edison", creates so many posts in the blogs and forums. I think many have heard about his stories, if not, search around or read the link below for the original source.
I think he is still not yet to be as peer as Edison, as you need to know, all Edison's parnter are famous actress. Some of this Gary's parnter are quite fat. But I think they all happen in Singapore, as can hear the Channel U Korean drama sound.
I receive X emails asking for this videos, and finally a reader send in. So as usual, I post it here, and warning... these are full adult stuffs.
WARNING: THESE ARE NOT OFFICE FRIENDLY, AND ONLY FOR ADULT.
Anyone else remember the following episode of "The Twilight Zone" and how it ended?
Although I watched all of the episodes of "The Twilight Zone" as a adolescent, I was unable to watch more than one episode of "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" because it frightened me deeply, seriously undermining my tenuous sense of safety in a world controlled by adults. I'm sure than I'm not the only one who had that experience in 1961. "The Twilight Zone" gave me things to wonder about, but "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" only gave me nightmares.
The Beatles were just warming up in 1961. What a relief it was to see the Beatles for the first time in early 1964. For the first time in my life, I felt glad to be alive. "The Twilight Zone" gave me things to wonder about, but the Beatles gave me hope as a young girl.
Many people blog for money. I do hope I can get some earning from my blog too. Some money also money, treat that as pocket money for a drink also nice. So lets see who are the top earners (at least shown publicly):
0. Number zero!!! Why? Because the earning of $12830.99 is fake! Using a generator.But I have no doubt Kong Technology is earning big from Adsense.
There are plenty of show, cat walk, fashion show around the world. But these, draw a huge crowd with big eyes on them. Why? You take a look and you will understand. They are the Brazilian Underwear Day, where all the models on the street with just their underwear. Then also a Taiwan jean cat walk, so the models wear only jean and nothing else (the hand must be tired). Finally, is the Taipei Game Show, with so much models in "uniform" that you can't find it in Singapore.
A wise woman, who was traveling in the mountains, found a precious stone in a stream.
She reverently placed the gem in her bag.
The next day, she met another traveler, who was hungry.
The wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone in the wise woman's bag, admired it, and asked the wise woman to give it to him.
The wise woman did so without hesitation.
The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune.
He knew the jewel was worth enough to give him security for the rest of his life.
But a few days later he came back, searching for the wise woman.
When he found her, he returned the stone and said,
"I have been thinking. I know how valuable this stone is, but I would like to exchange it in the hope that you can give me something much more precious. If you can, teach me the secrets about the power you have within you, the power than enabled you to, without hesitation, give me this precious stone."
Some years ago, it was suggested to me by a yoga teacher that I study several interpretations of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. The above story introduces the only interpretation I have that was done by a woman. Interestingly, her focus is on the first two of the four books, and she suggests, "As your curiosity about Books III and IV develops, I encourage you to read the many translations available."
The other interpretations I have been reading are:
LIGHT ON THE YOGA SUTRAS OF PATANJALI, by B.K.S Iyengar.
THE YOGA SUTRAS OF PATANJALI, translation and commentary by Sri Swami Satchidananda.
THE ESSENCE OF YOGA: REFLECTIONS ON THE YOGA SUTRAS OF PATANJALI, by Bernard Bouanchaud.
In the last few days, I've also been listening to THE YOGA SUTRA OF PATANJALI TUTORIAL, chanted by T.K.V. Desikachar. Reading one sutra early each morning and discovering how the Sanskrit words are pronounced is becoming part of my yoga practice.
("Woman Listening" was drawn in chalk pastel by Old Girl of the North Country in the early 1980's)
Something reminded me of the moment in 1970 when I was at an intersection somewhere along the Alameda de las Pulgas, not far from Sequoia Hospital in Redwood City, California, driving somewhere north in my blue-green 1965 VW. R was in Vietnam. The car radio was on, as it always was in those days. Aretha Franklin started singing "I Say A Little Prayer." I wasn't someone who believed in God or said prayers, but I knew that Aretha understand how much love I felt for R and that I wasn't alone in loving someone that much. I can still feel the joy that song brought to me. For all I know, it was thirty-nine years ago today.
(Notice how Aretha and the back-up singers hold their hands in prayer as a Buddhist might before bowing or as someone in the tradition of Yoga might do as they said, "Namaste.")
New Gutter is one: http://newgutterpost.blogspot.com/
http://newgutterpost.blogspot.com/2009/03/la-lakers-cheerleaders.html
http://prince-charles-iv.blogspot.com/2009/03/china-game-model-with-super-tight-short.html
http://prince-charles-iv.blogspot.com/2009/03/camwhoring-at-staircase.html
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