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Kat · Tales...
...musings from waking dreams and dreaming wakes
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On this day in 1819, 23-year-old John Keats (books by this author) composed what's considered to be one of the most beautiful love letters ever written: My dearest Girl, This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair. I cannot proceed with any degree of content. I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time. Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else — The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you again[s]t the unpromising morning of my Life — My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you — I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again — my Life seems to stop there — I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving — I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love — You note came in just here — I cannot be happier away from you — 'T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles. Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion — I have shudder'd at it — I shudder no more — I could be martyr'd for my Religion — Love is my religion — I could die for that — I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet — You have ravish'd me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often "to reason against the reasons of my Love." I can do that no more — the pain would be too great — My Love is selfish — I cannot breathe without you.
Yours for ever
John Keats "My dearest Girl" is Fanny Brawne; the two had met the previous autumn at the house of mutual family friends. In the spring, he and she became next-door neighbors, saw each other all the time, and fell in love. He dashed off playful sonnets to her in the midst of working on his serious verse. They secretly got engaged, but Keats could not afford to marry her. Though his passion lay with poetry — and publishers were interested in his work — he decided he would write a play in order to make a lot of money quickly. He started working on a historical play about the true love of Elizabeth I. But in February, months after he'd written "My dearest girl … I cannot breathe without you," John Keats began coughing up blood. He had contracted tuberculosis, the disease that had recently killed his brother Tom. On a blustery February night, Keats had gone to visit friends in the city and returned late, riding outside the stagecoach and without a jacket. He was feverish and his friend took him up to bed, where Keats coughed blood onto the bed sheets, looked at it with a candle and said, "I know the color of that blood; it is arterial blood. I cannot be deceived in that color. That drop of blood is my death warrant. I must die." He had a second hemorrhage and grew increasingly weak. He had worrisome, inexplicable heart palpitations, which one doctor attributed to hysteria. Keats wrote to Fanny Brawne to tell her that she was free to break off their engagement since he would likely not survive. She would do no such thing, she told him — and he was hugely relieved. But his friends tried to keep the two apart, lest passion make the young poet feel ill. In June 1820, a book of his poems had been released, and it met with great critical reception and good sales. This news buoyed his spirits, but his illness continued to worsen. Some suggested that he should travel to warm, sunny Italy to get better, and he began making plans to do so. Then one night, Keats was handed a letter written to him by Fanny, which someone else had inadvertently opened. For some reason this threw him into the depths of despair: He sobbed for hours and set off walking in the night, alone, crying, coughing, consumptive, to where Fanny's family had moved — a mile away. He showed up looking weak and gaunt, and Fanny's mother — one of the few people who knew of their engagement — defied convention and let the young man stay with them that night. He would actually continue staying there for an entire month, and considered it the happiest time of his life. But soon after that, his travel plans for Italy were complete. A friend took him to Rome, where Keats died at the age of 25. He was buried in the Cemetery for Non-Catholic Foreigners in a plot next to the pyramid. He asked to be buried with an unread letter from Fanny and a lock of her hair. And he asked that his epitaph read, "Here lies one whose name was writ in water." And he wrote her: "My Mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it. I never felt my Mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment — upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses." Research note: All primary source quotations and much of the other research in this entry can be found at a page about John Keats written and maintained by Marilee Hanson — http://englishhistory.net/ |
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I just got so caught up in practicing my spinning that I fell over. Yes. Literally. Fell over. Once I realized I was on the way down, the music still swirling a bout me madly ("Coin-Operated Boy"), it happened in stages... and there's the wall. Cannot crash into the mirror. Okay - push off the wall, down over laundry basket and ..... floor! I lay there utterly cracking up for the remainder of the song. I am gong to be bruised in the morning, but by the gods I love belly dancing! :) >^,,^< //
Current Mood: |
dizzy! |
Current Music: |
Dresden Dolls | |
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17th July. On the way to GothlaUK, I'm watching the first episode of 'Deadwood', an HBO TV Western, when the (train) conductor speaks. He advises that someone has been caught smoking near the rear of the train. "If the smoke detectors go off," he states, "we will have to hold up the train for 40 minutes. Additionally, if you are caught smoking you will be fined and, while we're sitting here for 40 minutes I will point out who you are." As I look at the cowboys mid-fisticuffs, frozen in the tiny screen of my iPod, I cannot help but think: Lynch mob! Yeehaw!
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teehee.... >^,,^< // |
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We were awaiting our photos and fprints to be cleared when Mr Tumble came on the tele and taught me BSL.... now if I ever need to say hello to Big Teddy, Little Teddy, or Dolly as we order cauliflower and a gigantic carrot together I'm all set! ;)
The reason I post is that I have a question which I hope sepheri and geishakitten will answer, in re: BSL and ASL respectively.
When one signs, does one have to do it right-handed? I was learning from Mr Tumble, and had a hard time not only mirroring him, as I was learning from the TV, but trying to 'lead' with my right hand, as I'm a leftie.
Right. I'm off again. zoooom!
Love love love,
>^,,^< // |
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...all I recall is a song, a musical motif from a story lost to sleep. This follows me around all day, setting tones and shading events.
Here's this morning's dream motif:
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I write this from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, with the smell of gumbo permeating the air and the gentle quiet of not having to do anything I'd rather not exhilarating me. Long post-starved readers, might I share with you my perfect morning? This morning I awoke at 8.30am after having slept precisely how long I wanted to. I took a shower with what can only be termed the water pressure of the gods, a lovely massaging showerhead, and my favourite creamy bodywash (coconut and lime verbena). Emerging from this watery paradise, I feasted upon berries in yoghurt and green tea with raspberry echinacea infusion for breakfast, checked my email to find exactly the message I was looking for and a brief bonus google chat as well. I then proceeded outside under the gigantic blue, sunshine-filled sky to walk and sing and think, the later yielding a personal revelation that's been a long time coming - nothing new, exactly, but more a crystallization of previous thoughts. Returning to Mum's, I borrowed a blanket, took it to the back yard (garden) and did about 45 minutes of yoga in the sun. This is something I've wanted to try for a long, long time, a fantasy close to my heart but rather difficult to attain in the North of England. And it was as wonderful as I'd imagined it would be. I am so much more flexible under the sun, and everything synched up - the sky, the sun, my breath, the birds, the small lizard on the screen door, my muscles and joints and skin. What an incredible experience. I came inside and ran though some belly dance conditioning and exercises and drills, then sous chefed for Mum (I love chopping vegetables).
I feel so warm, like I'm carrying the sun underneath my skin as it dapples the streams running through me with prisms of brilliance. >^,,^< // |
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I hope you all had (for the US residents among you, have) a marvelous Sostice. Mine was spectacular, and the image below is in tribute. May Sol rise triumphant in your spirit as you journey on through the winter. 
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Here's one I'm feeling a lot recently. Kubka Khan In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war! The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me
That with music loud and long
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And drunk the milk of Paradise. ~~~ |
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I just shimmied my way through the entirety of Led Zeppelin's "Moby Dick." That's 19.04 of almost continuous drum solo. Now feeling triumphant, sweaty, and mildly battered by the power of John Bonham's drumming. If you ever want a serious shimmy challenge, warm up to AC/DC's "Rat Salad," and then give Moby Dick a try. Guaranteed to be entirely too much fun. :) Shimmyshimmyshimmyshimmyshimmyshimmyshimmy... >^,,^< .//
Current Location: |
home |
Current Mood: |
 yeah! |
Current Music: |
Led Zeppelin | |
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This one's mainly for me .... if you were there you know all this already, so do feel free to pass this one by. We had a performance at Hyde Park (Leeds) Unity Day the weekend before last, and it went really well. It was an outdoor, one-day festival (I live in the Hyde Park neighbourhood of Leeds), and we weren't due to go on until 7.15. Around 6.30 dark clouds began to roll in, and the wind picked up a lot. We were getting some serious 'going to be rained out' vibes, but desperately hoping this would not be. It started to drizzle, then rain, and by 7.00 those of us who'd brought umbrellas were huddled under them and those who hadn't were discovering yet another use for a veil! Then, as if some crazy magician had been focusing her Will on holding off the rain, at 7.10 it stopped raining. We dancing three choreographies - first a sha'bi piece with veil work (interesting outside with strong wind), then a Raks Sharqi piece to a track by Hoda, and finally our new sai'di choreography, also to a Hoda song. I _love_ dancing with the sai'di sticks... as it was originally a martial arts form, and only for men, sad'di dancing feels very strong and powerful. Some of the moves mimic the movements of a horse, as well, which is always fun and frolic-y. ;) I wasn't step-perfect in my performance, but I had an incredible amount of fun, with PerformingHigh kicking in almost immediately. And I made a breakthrough. One of the most difficult aspects of belly dancing for me has been communicating with the audience -- establishing eye contact, making people smile, and using this communication to set the audience on fire with enthusiasm, which they then bounce right back at you, so it grows sort of exponentially. I did this. It was amazing. Much different then performing something on stage, where with the foot- and flood-lights you don't really see the audience, let alone make eye contact. Many friends showed up from all and sundry to see me dance, so I felt all loved and cherished, which is a good feeling to have. Almost as if on cue, not 7 minutes after we finished dancing and took our bows it began bucketing down rain. Strange, that. >^,,^< // |
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Hyde Park Unity Day
Saturday 16th August
Dancing, Live Music, Poetry, Crafts, Food, etc.!
Come on out for this fab local festival. My lovely bellydancing mates and I will be performing in the Performance Area (centre of the park) at 7pm. Additionally, I will have the lovely Michelle visiting from the States, so come meet the reason my puns get so out-of-hand at times! teehee....
Comment if you need more info, or want to arrange to hang out for a bit before the dancing. Hope to see you there!
<3
>^,,^< // |
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Cue the headline: UK Transplanted Amazon declares bellydancer Ariellah at Least Five Shades of Awesome
Today I took Ariellah's "Expressive Hands and Arms" class, thinking that I might finally be able to nail some arm moves that I've been struggling with forever. Had a bit of nervousness, as I don't take Tribal (Ariellah is a Tribal bellydancer) and because I practice at home to her DVD, I have a bit of a hero thing going on for her. Despite having to watch her carefully to figure out what she meant by very basic Tribal terms such as 'the flutter,' 'taksim,' and 'maya,' I learned a lot in my two hours ... and having initially feared that my poor, weak arms would fall off by the end of two hours of work, I really could have stayed in that class learning from her for at least another two hours. Ariellah is incredibly graceful (likely in part due to 12 years studying classical dance at the London Academy of Dance) and she teaches sets of moves very quickly, but she is also funny, personable, and has the gift of putting her students at ease almost the moment the class starts. As I often say to other bellydancers, one can be the most gifted, versatile, incredible performer, but being a good teacher is another kettle of fish entirely. Ariellah is both. Though I've been home practicing snake arms for a year now, today I finally got them. Something clicked that hadn't clicked before, and I feel confident that with dedication and practice my very long arms will do lovely serpentine expressions. :) In class we learned several very cool gothic tribal moves, including the Spiderweb, the Agitator, and something Ariellah's students named The Vampire with ADD. teehee.... it's really a lovely move, and hearing her explain how it got it's name was hilarious. In addition to several new moves, I picked up some great conditioning excercises to increase strength and fluidity, a few excercises to massage the shoulders while working with them, and a new (for me) yoga move springing from the Downward Dog called The Dolphin. The floor was a bit slippery for me to succeed at The Dolphin, but I'm looking forward to trying it at home. Possibly the most important thing I gained was a bit of confidence. That's always a good thing!
Right. Time to pack, stetch and journey to the Land of Nod. Tomorrow is "Dancing on the Right Side of the Brain" with Tempest, and then back to Leeds.
Buenos noches!
>^,,^< //
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Good Evening, Gentles: First, I must say that I just witnessed the most incredible evening of bellydance performers that I could possibly imagine (and I have a good imagination). Khalgani: Devils of Fusion (B'ham, UK): Spooky skeletons with UV details. This was outright halerious. And it's very interesting to see what a camel looks like on one's skeleton. Fun!
Fulya (Rugby/Northamton, UK): A burlesque-inspired piece with feather fans to Depeche Mode's It's No Good. I beg to differ --- it's very, very good indeed.
Weird Sisters (Wrexham, UK): Trouple of three dancing toLa Ultima Hora by Breed 77. Love the music -- Spanish industrial gothic. All three 'covenmates' had flowy skirts swirling about them like bat's wings. Very pretty.
Aarachna (Leicester, UK): Dance to a Doctor Who themed piece called Exterminate, Annihalate, Destroy. She has amazingly fluid arm and hand movements, and cunningly concealed blue lights in her hands, which she utilized to accent certain beats. Nice.
Her Royal Hellness Mistress Lucretia (Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, UK): A beautiful dance with irridescent blue/purple/black Isis Wings to Bela Lugosi's Dead. Atmospheric and well executed.
The Bride of Dracula Cast (Kent, UK): A dance from the full-length musical bellydance show The Bride of Dracula, this piece featured four incredibly fit women feeding on each other, snogging, bellydancing ..... I don't imagine any straight woman could emerge from seeing this without questioning her orientation. Hot!
Morgana (Madrid, Spain): Morgana can have me. Any time. Dancing to several bits from movie soundtracks mixed together, and telling the story of Chinese sword martial artists who had to practice their art in secret, as women weren't allowed to practice, this was the sexiest, most technically amazing, most beautiful performance I've ever seen in my life. Morgana is astoundingly good-looking and has such presence that if she was standing still posing on stage that alone would be stunning. If I came all the way to Leicester and the whole weekend all I saw was this performance it would be completely worth it. And did I mention she's Spanish? I have a new hero. http://people.tribe.net/6ef7e300-efb6-49a0-a2ac-24a49c5e102b
Raqs Macabre (northeast England): Three heavy metal bellydancers, the lead with a giant codpiece, dancing with their 'axes,' literally. RM is always a joy to watch, and they have vast quantities of humour woven into their performances.
Akasha (Southampton, UK): A medieval fushoin dance with finger viels, I wanted every single one of my medievalists friends to see this utterly lovely performance. Flowing, beautiful.
Tempest (Philadelphia, USA): Dancing in her self-invented 1920's bellydance (Art Novaeu) style, Tempest was flirty, seductive, smooth, technically brillaint and a lot of fun to watch.
Dawn (B'ham, UK): Dancing to Small Town Witch by The Sneaker Pimps, Dawn performed her trademark, amazingly precise pops and locks with panache.
Deva Matisa (Germany): Deva invented her own style of German Tribal Gothic bellydance, and set it to a Wumpscut song. She is a gorgeous woman, and her style is very strong, almost agressive, and utterly captivating. You wouldn't want to run into her in a dark alley --- well, actually, I wouldn't mind....
Sashi of Ascend Tribal Dance (California, USA): From the neighbourhood that brought us Rachel Brice and Ariellah, Sashi has the body of a yoga master and the presence of a master storyteller. She's gorgeous, but this is not surprising --- she danced to a lovely and ambient, largely piano-driven piece with heart-breaking sadness coupled with stunning, almost surreal lovliness.
Ariellah (California, USA): One of my home practice DVD's is Ariellah's, so I've been excited to see her dance for months. I was expecting a stunning performance with techical perfection made all the more spellbinding by the carriage and grace of a classically trained dancer and the sexiness of Ariellah's Moroccan heritage. I was not disappointed in the least. I'm certain that after the weekend many of the performances (except Deva Matisa, who expressely forbid videotaping of her dance) will appear on either the Gothla UK website and/or YouTube. It won't be as amazing as the live experience, but I know I'll be checking them out. It was good timing to put the hafla at the start of the conference, as I am feeling completely inspired. I have a class with Ariellah tomorrow, during which my arms may fall off (two hours of arm work --- eeeee) and a class with Tempest on Sunday (Dancing on the Right Side of the Brain), during which I hope to gain the inspiration and confidence to improvise better and more creatively. Good night! >^,,^< // PS - yes, I know, it's not spell-checked. must go rest for classes tomorrow! ;)
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Just bring on the weekend already!
Current Location: |
work |
Current Mood: |
 cranky |
Current Music: |
not allowed anymore :( | |
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So, before I head out to see The Last Mistress (corset squeeeee!), a brief tail (sic). The Sweety and I were sitting at the table finishing our gumbo, and Kira came up, perched herself on the arm of the sofa to better be within our field of vision, and began projectile purring. Cue the music: "Get your motor runnin',
Chow down on some cat food;
Man, that shit is tasty,
And it elevates my mood...." The Sweety: *chuckles* You've got to write that shit down. Done. >^,,^< // |
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"Be the hour auspicious, and the gate of life open in peace and in well-being, so that she that beareth children may rejoice, and the babe catch life with both hands."
Liber XV
Congratulations, Brooke and Matthew! <3
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premabast's journal
inspired
enthralled
blame it on the root canal