Archive for the ‘Arts’ Category

“This … is Lore”   Leave a comment

Writing from Nashville, Tennessee —

I’m giving myself a sort of real-life rezz-day present today … more like tonight, actually. I’ve traveled to Nashville with my daughter for a show.

(sounds of plunking banjos in the background, followed by a scratching record)

No, not that show, ya nimrods! (Although we should take a look at the Grand Ole Opry one day, I suppose ….) This will be a live “concert” performance of a show that took the podcast world by storm a few years ago, and has since spawned two related programs, a streaming-television series, and three books. All of this created by one man.

He’s Aaron Mahnke … and this is Lore.

Learn more lore on Lore; turn the page

Drift Away   Leave a comment

Day after day, I’m more confused
Yet I look for the light through the pourin’ rain
You know that’s a game that I hate to loose
And I’m feelin’ the strain, ain’t it a shame

Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock ‘n’ roll and drift away
Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock ‘n’ roll and drift away

Not just 1 of us, but 4; turn the page ….

Danger, Will Robinson!   2 comments

I just found an old friend!

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Revisiting Byron   Leave a comment

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies ….

George Gordon, Lord Byron, “She Walks In Beauty”

Writing the previous article reminded me of a piece I wrote back in 2013, close to this time of the year, in fact (I published it on August 31). It had been about the time of the 2013 Black Fair, and Pure Poison … who were making clothing instead of shoes back then … had just released this lovely gown, all glittering sequins and a netting overgown that melted my buyer’s resistance into a puddle of goo. I just about titled that last article the same thing as six years ago; fortunately, I recalled the previous, and found another poem, by a poet I’ve loved for years, Edna St. Vincent Millay.

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August Night   Leave a comment

She had forgotten how the August night
Was level as a lake beneath the moon,
In which she swam a little, losing sight
Of shore; and how the boy, who was at noon
Simple enough, not different from the rest,
Wore now a pleasant mystery as he went,
Which seemed to her an honest enough test
Whether she loved him, and she was content.

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Standing By the Sea   2 comments

Chess is a sea in which a gnat may drink, and an elephant may bathe.

Unknown proverb, variously attributed

Chess, like love, like music, has the power to make men happy.

Siegbert Tarrasch
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Beauty Treatment   Leave a comment

Posted August 23, 2019 by Harper Ganesvoort in Arts, Photographs

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