Vale Cynthia Jobin

On my return to blogging in April, I was deeply saddened to discover that one of my favourite poets of all time had died in December 2016.

Cynthia Jobin was a blogging friend and a masterful poet, whose art was superior in form, structure and rhythm. But what I love most in her work is the way she infused it with mischief. Her intellect and humour shines through her poetry.

Sadly, Cynthia’s WordPress site is no longer up. I hope her unpublished work will not be lost.

I will miss you, Little Old Lady. You were a beautiful light in the darkness.

https://uspandey.com/2016/12/25/goodbye-cynthia-jobin/

Opposites

Ugg Boot Face-off

To find oneself, at 50-something, studying astrobiology (under duress) as a subject in a Bachelor of Arts (Linguistics) degree is a little discombobulating, to say the least. Particularly if your last contact with the fields of chemistry, mathematics and physics was some 30-odd years ago (and geology, never). But the university at which I’m studying crawling through my degree has a rule (which only came into effect after I started) that every undergraduate student must complete a Planet unit and a People unit outside of their stream in order to complete said degree.

So, every week this semester just past, a very grumpy band of Arts students, including me, would huddle together in the prac room, muttering furiously over concepts such as chirality; and biomarker composition; and whether the lump of rock before us was sedimentary, metamorphic or igneous; and whether another lump of rock before us was a stony, iron, or stony-iron, meteorite; and whether the earth was oxic or anoxic when another lump of rock before us was formed.

On the opposite side of the room, sat a bunch of engaged, aspiring astrobiologists, scientists and geologists, who spoke in a language even the polyglot Arts student doesn’t care much for. We were strange bedfellows; almost different species. 😀

What a discomfiting experience.

But, it blew my mind!

I learnt so much. About how far (and not) scientific knowledge has come since I was at school; why the exploration of our solar system (so what’s the big deal about a bunch of dead rocks and gassy balls in the sky?) is deeply interesting; the mysteries of the vast and strange universe that we find ourselves in; and, most fascinating of all, the extent of the microbial and extremophile world around, beneath, on, and in us. I even had a bit of fun with the Design-a-Lander-for-Titan assignment (the tutors mentioned that they were looking forward to the Arts students’ designs. Yeah, I thought, some comic relief).

There is much value in seeking out our opposites and differences in knowledge, beliefs, philosophies and interests.

What have you learnt recently that has broadened your mind?

Think Big

Eurasian Tree Sparrow – Yuyuan Gardens, Shanghai

He’s thinking, “Lunch!” I’m thinking, “Wildly optimistic.”

 

Jesus, take note

Weekly Photo Challenge – Weight(less)

The Reproach of Matilda

She’s there every morning, glaring down at me, when I open my eyes.

“If you’re going nowhere, neither is that extra chin”, she seems to say. “I have limits, you know. If we’re to ever get any closer, you should be out there, not hitting the snooze button repeatedly!”

She’s right, of course, my ideal dress size. I breached her boundaries a long time ago and won’t be fitting back in any time soon, unless I get out there and move. Every single day.

“And cut out the champagne while you’re at it, lardarse.”

By my calculations, transforming Matilda’s reproach into rapprochement is about 720 km away.

Ho hum.

The Matilda Dress

 

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Symbol

Bob—my minion, courtesy of my husband—is a symbol of my excesses:

Too much chocolate and champagne: I, like Bob, am a candidate for the cakewalk rather than the catwalk.

Too much grieving: my father, who was affectionately called Bob (not his real name) by our extended family, died 13 years ago, but his ghost still looms at dawn.

Too strange a sense of humour: dark, subversive, and sometimes toilet.

And now I’m laughing too long and too loud.

Have a silly weekend.

😀

For more entries to this week’s WPC, see The Daily Post.

 

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Muse

Stylish in Shibuya

I’m lazy technically when it comes to photography. Part of the problem is that I have two sets of glasses and never seem to be wearing the right pair when I want to take a photo quickly. Which is frustrating because my muse is most certainly ordinary people, and for this reason the photography that I most enjoy is street photography, which requires spontaneity.

These lovely chaps cheekily photo-bombed me as I was taking photos down this street in Tokyo and then happily agreed to pose. Of course, my camera was on the wrong settings.

The other people-inspired form of photography that I love is portraiture, but I don’t get much time to do it these days. My good friend Kim is always a wonderful subject.

For incredibly beautiful and technically perfect portrait photography, see Joshi Daniel’s blog.

For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post.

Weekly Photo Challenge: On the Way

On the Way to the Theatre

For more entries to whatever-week’s-WPC-this-was, see The Daily Post.

Much Violence, Zero Harm

If I were a voodoo-hoodoo, my more annoying clients might experience the mysterious onset of a headache around 7:30 on a certain week night.

“Do you know why people like violence? It is because it feels good.”

Alan Turing in The Imitation Game

But the only violence I like is the kind that doesn’t hurt anything.

Chu-daiko and Shime-daiko

So Taiko is perfect. Thus far, we’ve learnt the basics of the Miyake and Yatai-bayashi  rhythms, fantastic workouts for the body, brain and voice.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Broken

I know what you’re thinking…
..but I haven’t taken to my husband’s head with a meat cleaver.

Being time-poor, I don’t cook much, but when I do, I like to try something new and recently attempted this MiNDFOOD recipe.

The problem is that the whole tap-the-pomegranate-skin-with-a-wooden-spoon-and-the-seeds-will-just-fall-out trick didn’t work so well. Hence the pomegranate bloodbath.

For more entries to last week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post.

Back from Behind

I like to do things backwards, don’t ask me why.

When I read a print newspaper (yes, some of us still do), I often start at the back page and work my way forward. Same with magazines. I can’t help it. (Although, I haven’t yet acquired that peculiar habit of reading the end of a book first. Horrors!).

Anyhow, I don’t like the thought of taking a blog break without announcing it upfront, but, somehow, my unintended break got away with me. So I should have told you that I was taking a blog break. But I didn’t. So now you know.

I’m back from behind.

As if you’ve noticed.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Gone, But Not Forgotten

My maternal grandfather had many interests and hobbies: he studied the stars (astronomically, as opposed to astrologically), played the violin and loved photography, carrying his camera wherever he went.

I don’t know if he kept a journal, but if he did, it’s long lost; however, his insatiable curiosity about so many things–from people to architecture, to history, to nature–is well documented through the many photos (in slide form) that he took over his lifetime.

He worked as a mosaic tradesman and sometimes travelled from his hometown, Durban, South Africa, by ship up the east coast of Africa to do mosaic work on buildings in exotic places, such as Lourenço Marques (now Maputo) and Beira.

On one of these trips, he took my mum and brother along, documenting the journey with his lens.

I particularly love this photo that he took on the ship of my mum making bubbles for my brother. And I love my mum’s reaction to it: “Oh, what a silly young thing I was then.”

Photo by RIP © beeblu

 

For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post.

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Humanity

Powered by Mysterious Blobs of Jelly

For more entries to last week’s WPC, see The Daily Post.

Kill Your Darlings Not Your Editor

Given the grammar and punctuation transgressions on this blog, you’ll probably find it hard to believe that I qualified as a book editor over a decade ago. *Sharp intakes of breath around the Blogosphere* Yes, you know who you are. 😀 Breathe easy; I’ve yet to give up my day job.

What I do know is that editing is critical to the writing process and essential for, at the very least, published works and professional documents. And what I did learn in studying for my editing qualification is the need for tact when dealing with authors and their work, no matter how awful either.

At work, I edit my own writing before and after I get someone else to edit it. Even so, when I do the final edit, I’m often bemused to find a number of errors remaining. When it comes to prose, I know my weak areas: omission of functions words, homonym misuse and comma confusion, to name but a few, so I know what to look for. But, poetry? I really have no idea.

So it is with heartfelt gratitude, appreciation and admiration that I thank Linda Cosgriff (a.k.a. The Laughing Housewife) for the gift of her editing expertise on my first poetry collection.

Linda is what the publishing industry (if she were to put herself out there) would consider an exceptional editor: she knows her stuff, and she is unafraid to say what needs to be said on both form and style but does so in an encouraging, tactful and respectful manner. And she sends gifts. 😀

I’ve taken most of her advice…
..OK, I admit I’ve granted clemency to some of my poor darlings.

Any errors remaining in the book are purely mine.

You have done me an immense favour, Linda dear. Thank you for the gift of your friendship, your valued input and the Olympic Games bookmark with the inspiring quote. ♥♥♥

Canine Fictions

My S-I-L Belinda has an eye for the interesting, the beautiful and the absurd and takes the most wonderful photos.

I love this photo of hers and thought it the perfect match to a poem that I wrote for Gabrielle Bryden’s Close Shaves Week. Thanks, B. 🙂

Photo by Belinda Price-Sinclair

Tank
the neighbour’s dog
has a lot
to say in the morning.

I imagine he entertains
the Vox Dogz with tales
of victorious nocturnal stoushes
with the white cat from across the road:
“A face like a chook’s bum
I tell ya rrrrhahahaharuffruff “

But I’ve seen him run
wide-eyed
at the sight of her.

 (Look, Tilly, no commas! 🙂 )

Weekly Photo Challenge: Extra, Extra! Zombie Apocalypse

For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Room (to express oneself)

Ladies of the Wurst Kind

Weekend wine walkabout
lures the alter egos out

For more entries to this week’s WPC, see The Daily Post.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Split-Second Story

Hostage Situation

 

Gunman: “Anyone moves, and the girl gets it!”

Public 1: “She can have it.”

Public 2: “Careful she doesn’t go down on you.”

For more entries to this week’s WPC, see The Daily Post

Writing Process Blog Tour

Dear blog-amie Gabrielle Bryden has tagged me in the Writing Process Blog Tour, which involves me answering the following questions and tagging a few other writing bloggers:

What am I working on?

 

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

It’s never accepted for publication.

Why do I write what I do?

I once read somewhere that Stephen King said something along the lines of that if he hadn’t become a writer, he would’ve become a small town sniper. My reasons aren’t quite as extreme (and, in case you hadn’t noticed, neither is my level of success), but writing—poetry, in particular—is a good outlet for stress and the things that fire my imagination.

How does my writing process work?

It’s a bit like vomiting, really – atrocious analogy, I know. But it is; it just happens of its own accord. One Saturday morning, I sat down with the intention of writing a non-fiction post about the notion that cheese before bed causes nightmares and within an hour, I had written this, something altogether different from what I’d intended.

Next on the Writing Process Blog Tour (tagged writers, feel free to ignore)

• Adeeyoyo
• Dianne Gray
• Poems ‘n Stuff
• Sweet Planet Poems

Thanks, Gabe 😀

Class of Whatever

“Banker,
gay,
no kids”,
he says,
as he snips my fringe.
“That’s what I tell them,
then take it from there.”

We agree
school reunions
are best avoided.