Archive for January, 2010

Words For Wednesday: Birthday Candles

Posted in Words for Wednesday on January 27th, 2010

I love Dave Barry. Okay, I’ve never met him, but I can always count on his writing to cheer me up on a grey day. Not only can his writing bring a smile to my face, he is a master of the run-on metaphor (also sometimes known as “running a metaphor into the ground”). Today’s example is from his book ‘Dave Barry Turns 40’. Enjoy! Larkin

I believe it was Shakespeare, or possibly Howard Cosell, who first observed that marriage is very much like a birthday candle, in that “the flames of passion burn brightest when the wick of intimacy is first ignited by the disposable butane lighter of physical attraction, but sooner or later the heat of familiarity causes the wax of boredom to drip all over the vanilla frosting of novelty and the shredded coconut of romance.”

Words For Wednesday

Posted in Words for Wednesday on January 20th, 2010

This is the inaugural post of something new here at BB&B.  I love reading, I love words, and oftentimes words will trigger or inform my visual art work.  And so, I have decided to share some words with you.  They may be poetry (as today) or prose, quotes, song lyrics, something from the morning news, or gems of language from the mouths of babes or babblers.  But the words will all have struck me as significant or meaningful in some way.  I’m going to try to post some words here every Wednesday, but forgive me if I am on the road and miss a time or two.

Enjoy, my little chickadees!

Halleluiah by Mary Oliver

Everyone should be born into this world happy
    and loving everything.
But in truth it rarely works that way.
For myself, I have spent my life clamoring toward it.
Halleluiah, anyway I’m not where I started.

And have you too been trudging like that, sometimes
    almost forgetting how wondrous the world is
        and how miraculously kind some people can be?
And have you too decided that probably nothing important
    is ever easy?
Not, say, for the first sixty years.

Halleluiah, I’m sixty now, and even a little more
And some days I feel I have wings.