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Kim

offline 21 friends
joined on 09/17/09
last updated 03/08/13
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my friends

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my recommendations

*****
"Cleveland favorites"
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soundtrack

Julie London
Ella Fitzgerald
June Christy
Lena Horne
Dinah Washington
Rosemary Clooney
Diana Krall
Peggy Lee
Dinah Shore
Nina Simone
Billie Holiday
Mildred Bailey
Sarah Vaughn
Dinah Washington
Lee Wiley
Edith Piaf
Josephine Baker
The Boswell Sisters
Blossom Dearie
Miles Davis
Count Basie
Jimmy Dorsey
Tommy Dorsey
Duke Ellington
Charlie Parker
Benny Goodman
Charlie Byrd
Stan Getz
Chet Baker
Mario Biondi
Aretha Franklin
Patsy Cline
Madeleine Peyroux
Astrud Gilberto
Bebel Gilberto
Rosalia de Souza
Buena Vista Social Club
Perez Prado
Bossa Nova
Latin Jazz
Koop
Morcheeba
Mazzy Star
Slowdive
A Fine Frenzy
Feist
Beth Orton
k.d. lang
Tori Amos
Juliana Hatfield
My Bloody Valentine
The Cure
Au Revoir Simone
Jane's Addiction
Porno For Pyros
Eric Avery
Death Cab for Cutie
Kings of Convenience
The Whitest Boy Alive
Let’s Go Sailing
Goddamn Electric Bill
Asobi Seksu
Broadcast
Tycho
Nostalgia 77
Ulrich Schnauss
Mercury Program
Underworld
Meat Beat Manifesto
Boards of Canada
Dusty Brown
Royksopp
Tycho
The Six Parts Seven
Film School
The Sea And Cake
Stereolab
Nick Drake
Yo La Tengo
n. Lannon
Elliott Smith
Grandaddy
Earlimart
Matt Pond PA
Iron & Wine
The Album Leaf
Bee Gees
ABBA
Donna Summer
Olivia Newton-John
Gloria Gaynor
Madonna

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so lucky to be loved

October 11, 2009
Kim,

I could write a thousand pages and not come close to describing the wonderful woman you are..

You are beautiful, you are caring, you are talented, you are lovely...

I love seeing the world through your eyes, it is to see the beauty in everything.

I want forever to make poetry with you.... and watch you blossom.

Love, Glen
xxx


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about me

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"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

- Anaïs Nin

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blossoms & bliss

I know I still have a few days to go (5, 4, 3, 2, 1...!) before I go, but I started a new WordPress blog already, about living in Adelaide, South Australia with Glen.

Check it out:

withlovefromadelaide.wordpress.com/

I think doing this blog will be a great way to get back into writing, and to remember interesting and fun moments about living in a foreign country. I'm pretty excited about it. :)


(image: Adelaide)
Mon, December 6, 2010 - 11:33 AM permalink - 7 comments
 




An Autumn Evening


Dark hills against a hollow crocus sky
Scarfed with its crimson pennons, and below
The dome of sunset long, hushed valleys lie
Cradling the twilight, where the lone winds blow
And wake among the harps of leafless trees
Fantastic runes and mournful melodies.

The chilly purple air is threaded through
With silver from the rising moon afar,
And from a gulf of clear, unfathomed blue
In the southwest glimmers a great gold star
Above the darkening druid glens of fir
Where beckoning boughs and elfin voices stir.

And so I wander through the shadows still,
And look and listen with a rapt delight,
Pausing again and yet again at will
To drink the elusive beauty of the night,
Until my soul is filled, as some deep cup,
That with divine enchantment is brimmed up.


Lucy Maud Montgomery
Sun, September 26, 2010 - 6:11 PM permalink - 2 comments
 



The Summer Day


Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?


Mary Oliver



from New and Selected Poems, 1992
Beacon Press, Boston, MA

Sat, July 10, 2010 - 10:34 AM permalink - 0 comments
 



a fabulous collage by ms.smart! :)

thank you!!!
Tue, April 27, 2010 - 11:54 AM permalink - 4 comments
 




Three Spring Notations on Bipeds



1

The down drop of the blackbird,
The wing catch of arrested flight,
The stop midway and then off: off for triangles, circles, loops of new hieroglyphs—
This is April’s way: a woman:
“O yes, I’m here again and your heart
knows I was coming.”

2

White pigeons rush at the sun,
A marathon of wing feats is on:
“Who most loves danger? Who most loves wings? Who somersaults for God’s sake in the name of wing power in the sun and blue on an April Thursday.”
So ten winged heads, ten winged feet, race their white forms over Elmhurst.
They go fast: once the ten together were a feather of foam bubble, a chrysanthemum whirl speaking to silver and azure.

3

The child is on my shoulders.
In the prairie moonlight the child’s legs hang over my shoulders.
She sits on my neck and I hear her calling me a good horse.
She slides down—and into the moon silver of a prairie stream
She throws a stone and laughs at the clug-clug.


Carl Sandburg


(1920)




Art: Spring Breeze by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1895)
Thu, April 15, 2010 - 8:07 AM permalink - 0 comments
 



The Enkindled Spring


This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.

I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze.

And I, what fountain of fire am I among
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng
Of flames, a shadow that’s gone astray, and is lost.


D.H. Lawrence


(1916)
Sat, April 10, 2010 - 8:47 AM permalink - 3 comments
 



Spring Quiet


Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing.

Where in the whitethom
Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
In the holly-bush.

Full of fresh scents
Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
A cool green house:

Full of sweet scents,
And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
“We spread no snare;

Here dwell in safety,
Here dwell alone,
With a clear stream
And a mossy stone.

Here the sun shineth
Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
Of the far sea,
Though far off it be."


Christina Rossetti


(1847)
Sun, April 4, 2010 - 9:03 AM permalink - 1 comment
 
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