Eyes

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken." Fydor Dostoevsky

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The God of Small Things

“But when they made love he was offended by her eyes. They behaved as though they belonged to someone else. Someone watching. Looking out of the window at the sea. At a boat in the river. Or a passerby in the mist in a hat.

He was exasperated because he didn't know what that look meant. He put it somewhere between indifference and despair. He didn’t know that in some places, like the country that Rahel came from, various kinds of despair competed for primacy. And that personal despair could never be desperate enough. That something happened when personal turmoil dropped by at the wayside shrine of the vast, violent, circling, driving, ridiculous, insane, unfeasible, public turmoil of a nation. That Big God howled like a hot wind, and demanded obeisance. Then Small God (cozy and contained, private and limited) came away cauterized, laughing numbly at his own temerity. Inured by the confirmation of his own inconsequence, he became resilient and truly indifferent. Nothing mattered much. Nothing much mattered. And the less it mattered, the less it mattered. It was never important enough. Because Worse Things had happened. In the country that she came from, poised forever between the terror of war and the horror of peace, Worse Things kept happening.

So Small God laughed a hollow laugh, and skipped away cheerfully. Like a rich boy in shorts. He whistled, kicked stones. The source of his brittle elation was the relative smallness of his misfortune. He climbed into people’s eyes and became an exasperating expression.” 

― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things

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Puddleduckpuppets Plaza Promo

Puddleduckpuppet Plaza - a unique condominium establishment built by puppets, for puppets.

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Dostoevsky

"From The Brothers Karamazov

"My brother asked the birds to forgive him; that sounds senseless, but it is right; for all is like an ocean, all is flowing and blending; a touch in one place sets up movement at the other end of the earth. It may be senseless to beg forgiveness of the birds, but birds would be happier at your side -- a little happier, anyway -- and children and all animals, if you were nobler than you are now. It's all like an ocean, I tell you. Then you would pray to the birds too, consumed by an all-embracing love, in a sort of transport, and pray that they too will forgive you your sin. Treasure this ecstasy, however senseless it may seem to men." Dostoevsky

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Happy Memorial Day Week End!

Welcome Home!

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Pema Chrodron

Look for the Gaps

In my own training, I've been taught to look for the gaps: the gap at the end of each out-breath; the space between thoughts; the naturally occurring, nonconceptual pause after a sudden shock, unexpected noise, or moment of common awe.  Trungpa Rinpoche advised intentionally creating these gaps by pausing to look at the sky or stopping to listen intently.  She called this "poking holes in the clouds."

These fleeting moments of no-big-deal me, no internal conversations, no frozen opinions, are very simple yet powerful.  The utter freshness of just being present introduces us to unshakable confidence: a lionlike pride that refuses to buy into any negative or limiting story lines.

It's All Temporary
Das ist alles Vorläufig

Otto Dix and Sulamith Wulfing

It must say something about me that two of my favorite artists are Sulamith Wulfing and Otto Dix. Whereas Otto Dix's work borders on the macabre, Wulfing's art is highly spiritual. Both German, neither fared well under the Nazi regime, both were banned.

Es muss etwas über mich sagen, dass zwei meiner Lieblingskünstler Sulamith Wulfing und Otto Dix sind. Wohingegen die Arbeit von Otto Dix an das makabre grenzt, ist die Kunst von Wulfing hoch geistig. Beider Deutscher, keiner befand sich gut unter dem Nazistischen Regime, beide wurden verboten.

More than almost any other German painter, Otto Dix (1891-1969) and his works have profoundly influenced the popular notion of the Weimar Republic. His paintings were among the most graphic visual representatives of  that period, exposing with unsparing and wicked wit the instability and contradictions of the time.

Mehr als fast jeder andere deutsche Maler hat Otto Dix (1891-1969) und seine Arbeiten den populären Begriff der Weimarer Republik tief beeinflusst. Seine Bilder waren unter den meisten graphischen Darstellungen Sehvertretern von  diese Periode, mit dem freigebigen und schlechten Witz die Instabilität und Widersprüche der Zeit ausstellend.

Born in Elberfeld, Rhine Province, as a child Sulamith Wulfing had visions of angels, fairies, gnomes, and nature spirits. She first began drawing these creatures at the age of four. The visions continued throughout her life, and directly inspired her paintings.

Geboren in Elberfeld, Provinz von Rhein, wie ein Kind Sulamith Wulfing Visionen von Engeln, Feen, Zwergen, und Natur-Geistern hatte. Sie begann zuerst, diese Wesen im Alter von vier Jahren anzuziehen. Die Visionen machten überall in ihrem Leben weiter, und begeisterten direkt ihre Bilder.

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Das ist alles Vorläufig

Rainy Wedding

Rainy Wedding

by CARRIE MACKILLOP

For Round 8 of our contest, we asked you to send us original works of fiction that begin with this sentence: "She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door."

Round 8 Winning Story

This short story by Carrie MacKillop is the winner of Three-Minute Fiction Round 8.

She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door. Her son lay dying on the other side, his blue, pale skin in stark contrast to the bright red blanket on his bed. His gray eyes looked at her dully as she entered the room. She withheld the tears that wanted to come every moment and smiled cheerfully.

"Today I get married, right?" he said with a smile.

"Yes, sweetheart. Today you get married."

When the boy became ill and had to miss his first day of kindergarten, he had asked what school would be like. She started a ritual that day, explaining to him in detail everything he was missing, so that he, and she, could experience the life he would never have.

In the last few months, lying in this bed in this room, he had gone through every grade, graduated from high school, went to college and graduate school and gotten a job as an architect. He met his fiancee when she lost her purse on a rainy day while he was at a meeting in Manhattan. She told him of a fairy-tale romance, the day he asked for her hand in marriage, the house they were planning to build.

"What's the weather like today? Is it sunny?" Her son, though only 5, had lived 30 years in this bed. He worried that the caterer would be late, that his tuxedo wouldn't fit, that his Uncle Charlie would embarrass him in front of his new wife.

"No, it's really cloudy. There's a good chance of rain around 4."

"But that's when the ceremony is!" he wailed. "What are we going to do?"

"It doesn't matter. It will be beautiful no matter what."

She told how the bride's father had built a floor under the tent that morning, to stave off the two feet of water that had developed in the backyard after four weeks of steady rain. She told how the maid of honor had stopped on the way back from getting her hair done to buy mud boots for the wedding party. How this was the rainiest spring on record. How it rained during the whole ceremony, drowning out the father of the groom while he read from the Bible. And how his new wife, looking as stunning as ever, had her best friend cut off her dress at the knee in the middle of the reception because it had soaked up so much mud and water.

"She's awesome, isn't she?" he said gleefully. "I'm really lucky, aren't I, Mom?"

She stroked his hair, taking in the small, thin features of his face, thinking of the life she and her husband had laid out for him before he was sick, all the world their little man would devour. "You are so lucky, sweetheart. And so is she."

As he eased into sleep, she thought about what the next few days would hold. She knew she didn't have much time, to get him to his first child, and that child's first day of school. She knew what he would ask when the baby was born. "Will he get sick, Mommy?" Of course, she would answer no.

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The Book Club

Gracie and Deedee discuss behavior at the Puddleduckpuppet Plaza Book Club meeting.

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Deutsche Maler Um 1920

Frauen zeichneten durch deutsche Künstler in den 1920er Jahren:

Walter Gramatt

Christian Schad

Georg Schrimpf

Otto Dix

Rudolf Schlichter

Das ist alles vorläufig

Finding Your One Thing

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Gay Marriage

Puppets debate pros and cons of gay marriage.

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ee cummings

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

BY E. E. CUMMINGS

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

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The Psychic

A psychic visits Puddleduckpuppet Plaza . . .

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Quietness by Rumi

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an ax to the prison wall.
Escape.
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
You're covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side. Die,
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign
that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.

The speechless full moon
comes out now.

Rumi

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Happy Mother's Day

P&G's tribute to mother's. 

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Puppetcare

The pros and cons of Puppetcare.

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Will Barnet

Cats, cats and more cats . . .

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The Scream

Puppets discuss the sale of a recent painting, The Scream.

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Reincarnation

Saturday was my birthday.  It began and ended unexpectedly, and the hours in between were perfect because I spent them with Carly, Sophie, Natalie and Julia who gave me lots of cards, kisses and cake - but I want to go back to early morning when Oskar and I were taking our daily morning walk. On the brick walkway leading towards my apartment was a Canadian Goose, sitting quiet as a mouse. She was all fluffed up and looked as if she was meditating while her husband paced back and forth screaming his head off.  The more he screamed the quieter she became until she lifted a few feathers and out walked a baby. And then another. And another. And another. Personally, I would not have chosen that particular spot for my maternity ward, but it was fine with her. Such a lovely way to start my birthday, and if you believe in reincarnation, perhaps I shall return as a Canadian Goose.

To top it off, there was that MOON at the end of the day. Words are inadequate to describe it. I sat on the same wall, mesmerized, where I had witnessed the birthing a few hours earlier and watched the moon, her face clear as a bell.  She smiled at me.  What more could I ask for?

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Cutest Baby Contest

The  finalists from the Puddleduckpuppet Plaza annual Cutest Baby Contest.

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73

I turn 73 on El Cinco de Mayo so I decided to make a list (in no particular order) of 73 things I am grateful for. I could have kept going, I am indeed one lucky lady.

1) Oskar

2) my jade plant

3) my apartment

4) the waterfalls in my backyard

5) The Charles River

6) Simone

7) my Toyota, Ghostie

8) my fins

9) The Alexander Technique

10) Dinners in Belmont

11) my Kindle

12) Natalie

13) my survival strap

14) the Goodwill store

15) Ron and our early morning chitchats

16) Maureen and Junior

17) my iPad

18) Josh's morning calls

19) Max

20) The Maintenance Dept.

21) rain

22) BMG

23) swimming

24) email

25) my puppets

26) my health

27) large fonts

28) Dr. Richter

29) Dr. Murphy

30) Dr. Brothers

31) Netflix

32) Josh

33) YouTube

34) moodystreetmusings

35) my video camera

36) Julia

37) my Taoist Comic Books

38) Alex

39) my Mac

40) Carly

41) my antique cradle

42) Sheela

43) Felix

44) YMCA

45) Paramahansa Yogananda

46) Sophie

47) Michael Savage

48) chocolate

49) The Tea Party

50) postsecret

51) my yogurt maker

52) my electric blanket

53) Maggie

54) Sulamith Wulfing

55) Rumi

56) ee cummings

57) Twitter

58) my trip to Germany

59) The Taoist Heron on the river bank

60) Kennebunk Beach

61) Mitt Romney

62) my pea soup green sectional couch

63) my ongoing, never-ending effort to do a flip turn

64) TUT

65) my iPod

65) Rusty

66) my Social Security check

67) Matisse

68) GarageBand

69) Audacity

70) Mormon Tabernacle Choir

71) Franklin Cabot Lowell Mill

72) my Bose headphones

73) the Waltham Police Dept.

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Paramahansa Yogananda

     "What is the use of spending all one's time on things that don't last?  The drama of life has for its moral the fact that it is merely that: a drama, an illusion.

     Fools, imagining the play to be real and lasting, weep through the sad parts, grieve that the happy parts cannot endure, and sorrow that the play must, at last, come to an end.  Suffering is the punishment for their spiritual blindness.

     The wise, however, seeing the drama for the utter delusion it is, seek eternal happiness in the Self within.

     Life, for those who don't know how to handle it, is a terrible machine.  Sooner or later it cuts them to pieces."

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Corner Table

Corner Table

Dana Gioia

You tell me you are going to marry him.
You knew almost at once he was the one.
Your hands rest on the quilted tablecloth.
"Such clever hands," I used to say.
I gave them names I never spoke aloud.

You tell me how you met and where you'll live.
It's easier to watch your lips than listen.
Your eyes flash in the candlelight like knives.
The waiters drift by with their phantom meals.
Tonight the dead are dining with the dead.

You twist the wineglass slowly in your hand.
And I speak of other things. What matters most
Most often can't be said. Better to trust
The forms that hold our grief. We understand
This last mute touch that lingers for farewell. 

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The Wedding Planner

Isabella, famous puppet wedding planner, visits Puddleduckpuppet Plaza.

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