Archive for the ‘Blacklace Beauty’ Tag

Steppin’ Out   Leave a comment

When I was writing this up, I found not just one quote to use, but two. I’ll title this with Joe Jackson’s song and include the video at the bottom. But following is another sonnet from Harper’s beloved Poetry Magazine archive (which really is a nifty source of material!)

How can I offer you the dull, frayed song
Of love I know? Each word would stumble on
A memory; and I should see a long
Blurred line of faces grimacing upon
A musty curtain of the past …. Ah, no ….
Let me be silent …. Words would only sound
A monotone: a toxic, cloying flow
Of echoes would sift through, and eddy round
My voice, and all the rapture that I feel
Would turn into a harlequin and steal
Away beneath the vivid, measured hum
Of mockery. Ah, dearest, may there come
An ecstasy of stillness in each day,
That you may sense the thoughts I dare not say!

Marion Strobel, untitled sonnet
Poetry (XV:vi) March 1920, p. 316

  • Skin (BoM): Belleza Bianca (Mocha – Blk Brow)
  • Head: LAQ Zahra 3.07 Bento
  • Body: Maitreya Lara 5.0.2
  • Eyes: Ikon Sovereign (Rustic)
  • Hair: no.match no.sleep.
  • Gown: Sn@tch Opal (new release)
  • Shoes: Sn@tch Calais pumps
  • Jewelry: EarthStones Diamond Tennis set (necklace, earrings) and Ava diamond bangles
  • Eyeshadow (BoM): Blacklace Beauty Night Out (3 w/Lashes)
  • Lipstick (BoM): Zibska Iova (sm/LAQ 07)
  • Nails: {ZOZ} Bento long coffin nails

Total ARC: 74,127

I love this song, and this video illustrates what we do in Second Life (as I did in my photos above) quite nicely, transforming ourselves for a time into whatever life we want to live, to change away from the humdrum and pains of daily Real Life.

Pause for Profile Photos   Leave a comment

‘Where are you going, Master?’ cried Sam, though at last he understood what was happening.

‘To the Havens, Sam,’ said Frodo.

‘And I can’t come.’

‘No, Sam. Not yet, anyway, not further than the Havens ….’

….

… and so they rode down at last to Mithlond, to the Grey Havens in the long Firth of Lune ….

J. R. R. Tolkien, The Return of the King (The Lord of the Rings, Part 3)
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Côte Méditerranée   3 comments

It’s as good a time as any for a holiday trip, as the Europeans would call it, down to the Mediterranean coast.

I was thinking of calling this article “Harper’s Morning Macchiato,” ripping off Morgan’s piece from a week or two back. But it doesn’t alliterate as well (sigh).

Never start a morning without caffeine of some kind. (That is, if you can handle the buzz.) Fortunately, this mobile coffee shop was handy.

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Morgan's Morning Mocha Meditations   2 comments

Whew. After the past three or four days, I deserve this break moment. The only thing missing is a Milano cookie.

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Christmas in White

(Author’s note: since I didn’t have access to some 50 Residents in the proper skin and costumes, I’m asking you to suspend disbelief on my photos, and supplement things with your own imagination. Either road, here’s a short Christmas story from the 48th Century, and my character Ariel Sherman. HG)

Ariel glanced around her at the four dozen-plus gold and silver people surrounding her. As usual, The Land of Fantasy had put on a phenomenal production of its current revue show, and everyone looked satisfied with things, no matter the changes in the script for the evening. Of course, for cyborg memories, “changes in the script” were rather small beer. It was the human pride in their craft that shone here, pride in performing in a once-a-year show to the satisfaction of both themselves and a demanding audience.

There was still a final act to go before they rang down the curtain for the next four weeks, for the show’s annual break. This would not be the usual finale, though, with its famous nudity; not on this night. For this was Day 357 on the Limlight Standard Calendar. There were children in the audience tonight, and the entire performance was much more family-oriented. Especially for tonight’s finale, the one element of this special show which had not changed from year to year. To Ariel’s demanding eye, everyone looked happy, prepared, and confident. She nodded happily back to them, said, “Alright, people; let’s do it,” and got back words and signs of agreement. “Go, Dalton,” she whispered to her organic stage manager, who grinned back, tapped at his tablet, and gave the needed orders. Recorded music began playing; the “small” curtain in front of Ariel opened thirty seconds later, and Lady Ariel Sherman entered at stage center, sweeping through the curtains in a massive ball gown of white satin.

She dropped into a stage-depth curtsey as the audience cheered and applauded and the rest of the cast and company entered behind her. Each of the feature acts took their own bows, then arranged themselves behind their star artiste. The audience quieted at last, and Ariel said into the amplification field, “Thank you all so much for coming tonight to The Land of Fantasy! It’s always our joy and pleasure to perform for you, but doubly so on special nights, such as this.”

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Navigators

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