flights of dalliancy (I made that word up)

got all excited, over there at my zootcase blog, about the black rhubarb i had dreamt about, then the description that i later found online. never knew it really existed, honest. but there i was, dreaming it, and connecting it to my 'heart' venture, only to find out the next day that this strange 'growing thing' from ancient times could give a person the feeling of flight and overcoming gravity. this is exactly what i need, not only for my project, but, i would say, every day.

of course, one can't always be all mystical and supernatural, can one?, - levitating all over the place. but they do recommend searching 'the dreamiest dalliances of your own heart', and that, i can earnestly support.

dally away, all ye who would fly, and delve into the black rhubarb of your soul.

bleary blues

been too long on the computer today; my mind is fading fast. i really want to
get myself into the pool and do my zen-inducing laps. just got so damn much to finish first.
speaking of finishing first, i've actually watched a fair amount of the vancouver olympics, unusual for me. great fun, except that i found that it produces 'olympic ass' after a few sedentary hours, quite the opposite of all those astounding,vital young bodies throwing themselves fearlessly into the air, or speeding with such control, or creating such gorgeous moves. no bleariness there.
not so great that Canada lost the hockey match last night, but hey, it's a game, right? and it was a good, fast one.

and so what am i accomplishing today, you might well arsk.
just doing the normal necessaries to get the music and the shows out there.
had a great night on saturday at the private jazz whoop-de-do. does anyone use that expression any more? well, we had fun; musicians played their usual amazing abilities, i sang my little heart out, and all the party patrons ate and talked and enjoyed the music all night long.

the 'underwear' video is coming along. i'm hoping it will be on youtube in a couple of weeks. don't wet your pants.

i gotta go. the water is calling me: return to the womb, zoe. splash and frolic, and tune out the world. ich com, ich com (don't know how to spell german).

quand il me prend dans ses bras...

such a romantic song, (see title, although i know that's not the title, but everyone should know that one) and saint valentine's day just around the corner (i walk a little faster). i wonder how many song titles i could work into one post. no, i haven't got time (gotta put it in your pocket till i get back!).
lovely day. got a couple of gigs coming up - the private one (sorry, folks) on feb. 20 with the jazz trio, then two on st. paddy's day, where we'll be parading all the irish tunes we know, and talking with an irish accent, nach bhuill? sure, and of course we will, because when i'm not taking after the italian grandfather, i'm after taking after the one from connemara, the west coast of ireland, where all the ponies on my website were that rainy day on the mountaintop.
in that photo,i look like one of those fat people on oprah's list of losers, but it's really just the six woolen sweaters underneath the hastily purchased raincoat that give me such a rotund figure. i'm really just a slip of a thing, and sure, lovely too.
but getting back to the french, and himself putting me in his bras, (such a strange one), - i hope everyone has some love come their way this sunday, and what the hey!, every day.
because what the world needs now....

hogging the ground

one of these days, i'm going to publish the story of when i first moved out of Toronto, and into the wilderness of the Haliburton bush. oh, what a thrill!!!
you know how naive and idealistic all the city-dwellers can be. how they hold such romantic notions about living in the country and eating their own home-made bread, and loving, just loving!! - everything possible about nature.
yeah.
that's before they experience living with black flies, and the joy of covering oneself from head to toe before you can even step outside the door (so much for the great outdoors). and the story i refer to above, which is the ground hogs. yes, very funny creatures in a movie, or charming when they're on a newscast telling you spring is coming. but monsters from HELL when they invade your car, via underneath the hood, and they eat all your car wires: spark plugs, brake linings, and whatever else whets their stupid little appetites.
whoops. went all mentally unpolitically correct there. supposed to love them all, right? sure. you try having to park your car a mile away from your home, at a corner gas station, and then riding home in the pitch black, which you have to (not) see in the country, away from all artificial light, to believe, and all that on your rickety bike, because otherwise they'll eat the new wires you just replaced, and thank god when you drove you didn't fly over the highway ledge with no brakes, and into one of the numerous lakes we are blessed with in Northern Ontario, or worse, smack dab, at high speed (oh not too high because your car is running on the only one out of four cylinders that they didn't eat completely), but still, any speed is dangerous when you run head on into the Canadian Shield - that's rock, cold, hard, granite-type, face-smashing and unforgiving.
so actually, i hate the critters, truth be told, and if the damn thing poked its head out in my vicinity on a february day, or any day, i'd just as soon shoot it, if i had a gun.
i'll tell you another time about the mice.