R.L. Swihart's Blog, page 54
November 13, 2022
Gorky: Autobio: Childhood
Reading. Finished Barnes' Arthur and George (after watching the PBS series) and have moved on to Gorky. I've tried some stories before and gave up. This time starting with his autobio (I have two of three parts) and enjoying it. This snippet is about his grandmother (paragraphs be damned.:)):
“But why do people abandon children?” “It is because the mother has no milk, or anything to feed her baby with. Then she hears that a child which has been born somewhere lately is dead, and she goes and leaves her own there.” She paused and scratched her head; then sighing and gazing at the ceiling, she continued: “Poverty is always the reason, Oleysha; and a kind of poverty which must not be talked about, for an unmarried girl dare not admit that she has a child people would cry shame upon her. “Grandfather wanted to hand Vaniushka over to the police, but I said ‘No, we will keep him ourselves to fill the place of our dead ones. For I have had eighteen children, you know. If they had all lived they would have filled a street eighteen new families! I was married at eighteen, you see, and by this time I had had fifteen children, but God so loved my flesh and blood that He took all of them all my little babies to the angels, and I was sorry and glad at the same time.” Sitting on the edge of the bed in her nightdress, huge and dishevelled, with her black hair falling about her, she looked like the bear which a bearded woodman from Cergatch had led into our yard not long ago. Making the sign of the cross on her spotless, snow-white breast, she laughed softly, always ready to make light of everything.
November 11, 2022
Lapland Longspur @ Pattinson Park
Lapland Longspur @ Pattinson Park in Huntington Beach CA. Hadn't heard of it before (breeds in the Arctic but comes down on holiday:)). Another fan (with binoculars) helped me locate it on the ground (in a shady patch not far from the finches) and I refound it later and luckily got one near-perfect pose. Made my morning.
November 3, 2022
October 12, 2022
Roadside Picnic: An Alien Walks into a Bar
Let’s put it this way. A man meets an alien. How does each figure out that the other is intelligent?” “No idea,” Valentine said merrily. “All I’ve read on the subject reduces to a vicious circle. If they are capable of contact, then they are intelligent. And conversely, if they are intelligent, then they are capable of contact. And in general: if an alien creature has the honor of being psychologically human, then it’s intelligent. That’s how it is, Richard. Read Vonnegut?”
Blue Tit @ Kazimierz Dolny, Poland
One shot (two versions): early morning: Eurasian Blue Tit. On the outskirts of Kazimierz Dolny, Poland.
#rlswihart13 #kazimierzdolny #poland #titsofeurope #titsofinstagram #bluetit #nature #poetry #beauty #readmorepoetry2022 #ukraine 🇺🇦
Roadside Picnic
After he said good-bye to the Madam and shook Benny’s hand, Noonan drove straight to the Borscht. The problem is we don’t notice the years pass, he thought. Screw the years—we don’t notice things change. We know that things change, we’ve been told since childhood that things change, we’ve witnessed things change ourselves many a time, and yet we’re still utterly incapable of noticing the moment that change comes—or we search for change in all the wrong places.
October 2, 2022
Little Blue Heron @ Bolsa Chica
Little Blue Heron (Lifer) @ Bolsa Chica. Saw it on ebird and I had to try. Saw at least three reddish egrets (similar but bigger with a redder "mane"), including an immature (hardly any mane). Had to post (in case you want to give it a go), but I'm back from Poland now so I'll be flip-flopping a bit: Poland/SCal. Go Blue & TGIF!!!🌞
#rlswihart13 #southerncalifornia #bolsachica #bolsa #heronsofinstagram #littleblueheron #nature #poetry #beauty #tgif #goblue #readmorepoetry2022
Rereading Roadside Picnic
Rewatched Tarkovsky's Stalker first (found it free on Hulu or somewhere), so I could feel the difference: both great.
Excerpt from the book:
I come over to them with my glass. Gutalin grabs me by the coat, sits me down at their table, and says, “Sit down, Red! Sit down, servant of Satan! I love you. Let us weep over the sins of humanity—weep in despair!” “Let us weep,” I say. “Swallow the tears of sin.” “Because the day is nigh,” proclaims Gutalin. “Because the pale horse has been saddled, and the rider has put a foot in the stirrup. And futile are the prayers of the worshippers of Satan. And only those who renounce him shall be saved. Thou, of human flesh, whom Satan has seduced, who play with his toys and covet his treasures—I tell thee, thou art blind! Awake, fools, before it’s too late! Stamp on the devil’s baubles!” Here he comes to an abrupt halt, as if forgetting what’s next. “Can I get a drink in this place?” he asks in a different voice. “Where am I? You know, Red, I got fired again. An agitator, they said. I was telling them, ‘Awake, you’re blind, plunging into the abyss and dragging other blind men behind you!’ They just laughed. So I socked the boss in the face and left. Now they’ll arrest me. And for what?”
