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24 December 2005

In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

So, I spent the week house sitting at Maison Mom's. It was wonderful. She has this great little two-bedroom with a fireplace and an Arabian Nights Princess Bedroom Near a Beach, it was really lovely to have a change of scene; to get away from The Pit for a while, unchain myself from the computer and the endless fundraising worries, to sit by the firelight with a glass of wine and just think.

There is something I love so much about the feel of an empty house. I've lived alone for most of my adult life. And that feeling of coming home from work after a long day, that feeling you get when you first open the door and realize the entire place is empty of all energy save yours...it's brilliant. And now I rent a room in a house inhabited by two high loud talkers, with their pets and the mess and the endless steady stream of cliched, superficial dialogue on which they seem to thrive. Sometimes, I think I will quite literally lose my mind. I'm not built for communal living, clearly. I can deal with any sort of person for a little while, but then I need to go home and find peace and quiet.

debergerac
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16 December 2005

December break

****The New News****
Yes well...this month's issue is going to be pretty light. I've been caught up in organizational issues and am focusing on our first fundraising push. So in addition to a new Artist In Residence, I'll be adding a review or two and a perhaps some poetry and will attempt to catch up on the blog. But I promise, January's issue will be packed. We are expanding our coverage to include film, music and theatre in rather a big way. We'll feature a couple of interviews, one with Alice Friman and another with one of the sound designers of the
Chronicles of Narnia. So, I'm taking a kind of holiday-lite in order to rest the brain but you'll be hearing from me. Speaking of speaking check out the PaintingsDirect interview with artist and BotP friend Carole Orr it gives great insight into her work and 'artist mind'.
****The New News****
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09 December 2005

Break Open the Champagne!! Or...

****The New News****
A fiscal sponsor has come to our rescue! And what a sponsor. Fractured Atlas, a national multidisciplinary arts organization has kindly extended their umbrella to cover us. Donate (tax-deductibly) at will!!! Click and select Bakery of the Poets.org from pull-down menu
****The New News****


...Or Cremant de Bourgogne...'cause it's only $8 bucks. Okay so last Wednesday we lost our fiscal sponsor. I spent Wednesday thru Friday, attempting to find another. Then I spent Saturday and Sunday pretending not to panic.

And then in the wee small hours of Monday morning it came to me...like a flash, like vision...like a memory! I'd forgotten something. When I applied to the Shunpike, I also applied to another organization called Fractured Atlas, a titan among artists advocates. After filling out an online app in the earliest parts of November, I received an email telling me I should expect a response a few days after the board meeting on December 6th.

I'd completely forgotten about this application! Hard to say why. Lack of confidence maybe, I've been hoping to receive word of their approval all week and yet when the answer came, "yes," it was a delightful surprise. One I celebrated with a night of decadence, a friend, a bottle of Blason de Bourgogne Cremant de Bourgogne, Thomas Keller's Spanglish BLT and Fried Egg Sandwich, parmesan garlic curly fries, a piece of really fine dark chocolate and the movie Spanglish, which I highly recommend. But make the sandwich first otherwise, you'll find yourself distracted by visions of late night BLT's dancing in your periphery.

THE STARVING ARTIST POLL
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08 December 2005

Good Grief, Charlie Brown! (Or Boo-Hoo my sponsor left)

****The New News****
A new feature of the site, poetry by Edna St. Vincent Millay read by yours truly. Check out Well-Versed

The Starving Artist Poll is shaping with some interesting and unexpected responses
****The New News****


This happened like a week ago, but I was too bummed to discuss it. As you may or may not know we had at last found a fiscal sponsor* in the form of Shunpike an arts organization in Seattle that is doing great things for artists.

I was completely stoked.

I started right away working out the fundraising campaign. I sat down to my computer last Wednesday to begin launch the first emails when I discovered in my inbox a message from the Shunpike Program Coordinator, canceling my contract. They were having some problems, their president resigned and the board decided that they don't wish to back an out-of-state organization. Even more disheartening, was receiving my copy of the fiscal sponsorship contract with the managing director's signature on it. This really, more or less...sucks.

I hopped on the phone and email right away in order to find another sponsor before the end of the year. I was seriously freaking out. But, I think a solution may be immediately on-hand. I'll let you know!!

Yeah...a minor setback, but I can suck it up...walk it off...hit the showers...hit the hay. I'll be fine

*Fiscal Sponsorship:
Fiscal Sponsorship is a financial relationship between smaller nonprofit organizations lacking the IRS 501(c)3 status and a registered 501.c3 Non-Profit Organization, who acts as Fiscal Agent, allowing the smaller organization to solicit funds from potential donors for their project as tax-deductible contributions.
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06 December 2005

Tell me what you think, the results so far

So far 37% of you guys work 2 or more jobs
33% of you work one job
14% support yourselves partially through your work as an artist
14% support yourselves entirely through your work as an artist

A couple of people have raised interesting issues in the comments. Can or should we expect to be able to support ourselves doing what we do best, what we're called to do? Well, you can see my bias, but I'm willing to be convinced otherwise. Leave a comment, I would love to know what you think!

The Comments:
#2 Full time job that pays well enough to allow me to pursue my artwork. And teaches me how to do marketing, which I can apply to my art. I believe that the Starving Artist idea is the most detrimental and has had the biggest negative impact on artists in our society. Stop believing that's what you need to do.

#2 Wish I could work as an artist full time and be recognised and valued as the creative, lateral, innovative thinker I am trained to be.

Click to vote
Starving Artists Poll
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04 December 2005

Happy Sunday!

I went this afternoon to Johnny Carino's with pos business partner Gene. It's funny what putting a face to a voice can do. We've been talking on and off for about two years now and Gene has the most wonderful voice, deep resonant, warm...I've never felt a need to guess at his appearance, I always feel prepared to like people endowed with nice speaking voices.

But something happens sometimes when one is suddenly able to match a face with a voice. This afternoon sitting across from an attractive man of a 'certain age', we were having reasonably pleasant conversation when something happened. The light hit him a certain way, or there was a particular expression which passed over his face and suddenly he reminded me of someone else. This person who, by simply picking up the phone, always managed to impart a sense safety and calm; suddenly reminded me of someone in my past who was the very model of insecurity and irrationality.

Nils and I worked in the same office. He was a person under pressure and, subject either to the trauma of a recent divorce or life-long insecurity, was quickly becoming unstable. I was working as a temp and Nils worked just under the VP who was head of our section. It was a very small department there were five of us closeted away in the back of the building in a small area divided into even more closet-like cubicles. Nils arrived a few weeks after I did, a welcome breath of testosterone in a heavily estrogenated environment.

He was warm and funny. And had the most wonderful voice, deep, resonant, warm. I realized that some of his good humor was showmanship and some of his magnanimity was bribery, and was aware of the tint of desperation which colored them both. However, that sort of thing mattered little to me, I'm often able to "see" these things in people; the weak and the strong, the good and the evil, the beautiful and the ugly, these contrasts are what make my fellow beings all the more awesome, a stained glass mosaic. I don't need people to be all one thing in order to feel safe, but I do need to know them. So I knew Nils and was prepared to like him very much, he was the Pied Piper. Wherever he was people gathered around, he was a one-man break room. It was fun. I didn't feel a need to join in with the crowd, I very much enjoyed observing, liked the way he altered the atmosphere.


Now that I think on it, though I couldn't have been more of a fan; to person who needed everyone to engage, to go along with him on his magic carpet ride; my withdrawal, though benign, must have seemed threatening...judging. At any rate, he made me a target.

I was only a temp after all, the perfect person with whom to vent his rage. The complimentary interest Nils showed when he first arrived (what was I reading, where I had been, what I had done, what did I want from life) now paid off in fuel and ammunition. It was all very jolly and 'hah, hah, all in good fun.' However the punchlines of his jokes began to pack an actual sting. He made a thing about his having a PhD and the fact that I never finished college. At first, I barely noticed. I'd never felt particularly sensitive about not having a degree, I always felt my intellectual worth was apparent to those who had need of it, and irrelevant to everyone else.

He used to do this variation of an old joke from Night Court which went, "You may be younger, you may be faster, you may even be smarter. But you will NEVER, EVER, be crazier... than me." Except that he would say, "You may be younger, you may be smarter, you may be better looking than I am..." And then he'd sort of trail off with a mock-sheepish expression and shrug his shoulders, as if to say, "Well, that's it."

On this particular day, he altered the joke slightly just for me, instead of the 'everyone join in on the fun' self-deprecatory punchline, he finished up with, "But I'm better educated.", his forefinger stabbing the air in front of me and then he walked away.In front of everyone in our department. Things went pretty much downhill from there. Nils was not consistently crabby or scornful, just sometimes, a couple of times a week, we'd be having a perfectly pleasant conversation, and then suddenly, there it would be, a dig about my lack of education, an allusion to what he imagined to be my lack of credit-worthiness (we worked in a financial institution) or general nastiness. But always cloaked in good humor or 'helpfulness'.

Everything was so out of balance and off-kilter, at that time anyway. The Columbine shootings had just happened and I spent most of that day in tears. For the first time there was nothing going on in my life that made me feel I was doing my bit for the world. I had a ridiculous job that meant nothing to anyone outside of the building. Financial need had forced me to drop out of the full time ministry work I valued so much. Here were these children, being gunned down in a place where they should have felt safe and there was no place I could go inside myself to mitigate the pain of that. All I could do was keep listening to the news reports, there was nothing I could do to help, except know.

Anyway, Nils. When people are mean or unjust, I simply declare war and think no more about them. But when they are sometimes one thing and sometimes something else, I have a hard time. I sense a struggle and I feel sympathy, plus I want to like them. I want them to be the sort of person they are striving for when they are behaving in an approximation of their best selves. It's harder for me to protect myself with the sort of weapons I would use against a consistent jerk. So between my own pre-existing fragility and his split personality, I just couldn't seem to go to red alert. No shields went up, no photon torpedos were armed. He'd just blast away from time to time and I'd take the hit.

I did find out later that he left not too long after I did (Can't remember whether he quit or was fired). According to my former co-worker, Jill his behavior became increasingly erratic. And the bullying tendencies which had been primarily aimed at me when I was there, were scatter shot a bit farther afield, aimed at far less vulnerable targets than a lowly temp. I think he was fired, or left just ahead of being fired ...or something.

It's strange, this was nearly five years ago and yet I still get a memory sense of that shaky, scared feeling one gets when being locked in a room with an unpredictable animal or walking a tightrope without a net.

And now that I've met Gene and that moment of fleeting recognition has come and gone, as much as I want to go back to my previous memory; that sense of comfort and safety, my Nils emotions have gotten a bit tangled up with my Gene emotions. I wonder what it was like for Gene to finally put a face to my voice. I wonder what happens next.
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27 November 2005

I THINK I should have loved you presently,

I THINK I should have loved you presently,
And given in earnest words I flung in jest;
And lifted honest eyes for you to see,
And caught your hand against my cheek and breast;
And all my pretty follies flung aside
That won you to me, and beneath your gaze,
Naked of reticence and shorn of pride,
Spread like a chart my little wicked ways.
I, that had been to you, had you remained,
But one more waking from a recurrent dream,
Cherish no less the certain stakes I gained,
And walk your memory's halls, austere, supreme,
A ghost in marble of a girl you knew
Who would have loved you in a day or two.

--by Edna St Vincent Millay
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15 November 2005

Shoes, Ships and Fiscal Sponsorship!!

****The New News****
Shunpike an organization dedicated to helping artists realize their potential in every way, has taken us on. Now donations made to us through them are tax-deductible. Yayy!!
****The New News****

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11 November 2005

The truth is...

Three little words. "The truth is..." But how often does the actual truth follow?

I'm up in the middle of the night thinking about relationships and how we connect. I'm thinking about telling the truth and how difficult it is. Why, when we are lonely and in need of another person...why, do we find it easier/better to say "do whatever you want, I don't care", than it is to say, "don't go, I need you and I'm afraid and I don't want to be alone"?

The lie that we tell doesn't make our situation better, it doesn't spare the other person's feelings (quite the opposite), it is a base repudiation of a basic need. So why do we do it?

Why do we behave as if we couldn't care less with our hearts in our mouths and fear clutching our throat? Why is it so hard to tell a simple, universal truth? Why, when we need someone the most, do we say 'go away', instead of 'please stay'?
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26 October 2005

Huh.

So, yesterday all of my bookmarks...my browser bookmarks...just disappeared. And I'm fairly certain, though not quite sure, that there were some rather essential to Life and Breadth links linked therein.

Or...maybe I'm just mad because I can't remember which of the Vanished were links I'd intended to delete, And which were links I really needed or wanted (same thing). That's probably it.

No...but seriously all of my bookmarks are gone. All of them. And it's not my fault cause I didn't do anything. That I remember.

Here's another thing...Elizabethtown. Every once in a while a movie will come along that makes me feel as though I'm being sold snake oil by the studio. It's something to do with the tone or timber in the voiceover guy's voice; or the size of the font declaring the movie, "A triumph...!" by the Detroit Daily Star.

I'm sure it's a fantastic movie. And I will probably go see it, particularly now that I've seen the stripped-down-to-essentials review given by my personal film tutor...Roger Ebert.

Meanwhile in Hollywood...
Catherine Zeta-Jones is linked to a remake of the whimsical, beautiful little German film Mostly Martha.

Unlike some people on imdb.com I am not myself morally opposed to a remake. Jones is a great actor. It could be good, it all depends on who writes the screenplay. My only advice to the uninitiated would be to run to the video store and rent the original. See Mostly Martha as it was meant to be seen, before Hollywood lets it down.

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25 October 2005

Elaine -- Edna St. Vincent Millay

I just turned 31 last week. It is the second birthday after the death of my brother in July of last year. Remember how in movies the way people are able to sense, like picking up vibrations in the air the coming anniversary of a death? You know, the guy whose girlfriend comes to him a day and a half after he has been behaving strangely; gently lays her hand on his arm and says, "It's fifteen years ago today, isn't it? Since your father died."

Well, I forgot. He died on July 12, 2004, I got the call the morning of the 13th. Three days and a year later, it occurs to me, that there had been an anniversary. But last Monday I turned 31. And he should have been 30. And it breaks me apart.

Elaine
by
Edna St. Vincent Millay

OH, come again to Astolat!
I will not ask you to be kind.
And you may go when you will go,
And I will stay behind.

I will not say how dear you are,
Or ask you if you hold me dear,
Or trouble you with things for you
The way I did last year.

So still the orchard, Lancelot,
So very still the lake shall be,
You could not guess--though you should guess--
What is become of me.

So wide shall be the garden-walk,
The garden-seat so very wide,
You needs must think--if you should think--
The lily maid had died.

Save that, a little way away,
I'd watch you for a little while,
To see you speak, the way you speak,
And smile,--if you should smile.

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28 September 2005

Don't Judge Me, But I Love Fall TV!!

So now it's officially Fall. Some people think that Fall begins on September 22. But it doesn't. It is a little known fact, but a fact just the same, that Fall begins on whatever day starts off Premiere week on the telly set.

Oh, how I love new TV! So much. There are all these new shows, with all these new people, and a lot of old people that I really like but haven't seen in a while because their last new show got canceled. I love trying to predict which shows will hit, and which will tank. I love thinking, writing and planning about new TV.

My cup of joy overrunneth...Doggonit!

Right now at this exact moment I'm watching Invasion.
I officially want to love this show. It stars some of my favorite actors (Kari Matchett, Eddie Cibrian and William Fichtner) from my Actors Most Routinely Dissed List. I knew this last week. But then today I paid attention to the opening credits and realized that the love of my pre-adolescent life, Shaun Cassidy is the show's creator.

He has a very deft hand with story and dialogue. Five years ago he created Cover Me: Based on the True Life of an FBI Family which was a tightrope act of writing, he always managed to stay on just the right side of humor and the right side of pathos. It was a great show, that is until, he stopped writing it himself.

But anyway, I was still capable of impartiality, that is until that scene this evening...The one when semi-alcoholic ET nut brother came wheeling out to drag his sister out of a press conference to tell her something, you know, "really important". She says, "You're my brother, and I love you"--at this point I've almost stopped listening, expecting to hear the obligatory, 'but if I have to hear about one more of your crazy conspiracy theories blahdy blahdy' instead, she says--"I'm tired, I'm pregnant and you're medicated."

So unless Invasion becomes truly unwatchable...I'm afraid I'm stuck. It'll be like that guy, the one you know you should give up. He's no good for you, he hurts you and makes you nuts, but you just can't let go. Not even after like, eight or nine girlfriends do an intervention because they love you and want to save you from his evil clutches and recall you to your senses. It'll be like that.

Without the sex, lies and chocolate binges.
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25 September 2005

Friday Night Lights Grammar Rant

***The New News***
Two items tonight. First, due to forces beyond...hehhehheh...my control (I've always wanted to say that); Artists in Action: Katrina Aid Auction will be postponed to October 6.
The Views and Reviews page has been updated w/ mini reviews of and will continue to be updated on a weekly basis.
***The New News***


When did 'close to' become 'close with'? As in, "She's really close with her brother." I saw Friday Night Lights yesterday, great movie by the way, Peter Berg is shaping up to be very substantial in the directing department; from the very wonderful Wonderland which he wrote and directed, to the twisted Very Bad Things also written by Berg, to The Rundown (crazy funny starring The Rock, Rosario Dawson and Christopher Walken). He's like Brian Cox, Colm Feore and Chris Cooper. Every time you see one of them, you think 'Who is that guy? He is good, he's the guy from that movie about the thing.' If the movie is particularly good, you might remember to look for his name in the credits. At the time you tell yourself that you won't forget him again cause That Guy is good!

But of course, in the time it takes to move the dvd from the player to it's case, Brian/Colm/Chris is already little more than a dim memory. Until the day when almost completely under the radar Chris Cooper walks away with an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor.

Peter Berg is That Guy. When Friday Night Lights was released, the reviews were strong, the movie was good and the studio doubled it's money. I think in the industry his rep is strong, his numbers are good, the reviews are good and he keeps attracting respectable projects with talented people.

But outside of Hollywood...

He hasn't really arrived yet. Will he win his Oscar after he does arrive? Or will he walk away with an Academy Award under the radar a la` Chris Cooper? 'Cause one way or another the little gold guy is destined to take up residence somewhere in Pete Berg's house.

So I liked the movie. I fast forwarded a lot of football stuff, cause I find football boring and violent. An amazing combination, as it is generally difficult for something to be both violent and an incredible snooze fest. But that is football for me. I loved the movie but just before credits rolled they ran a 'where are they now' tag after the name of each player. One said that such and such player 'continues to be close with his dad'.

Let me preface my hysteria by admitting that my relationship with language tends to be very emotional. I feel about words, rather than think about them. 'Relationship', you know a word describing interaction between two parties. 'Relation' describes the relative position of a person or object to another person or object. 'Close' a word describing the relative position of a person or object to another person or object.

You are close to a person not with...'to' not 'with'.

When people talk to me about being close with someone; it makes me crazy. As crazy as performers who clap for themselves along with the audience after an introduction or performance . Literally...crazy. Close with insanity.
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23 September 2005

A Clear Midnight by Walt Whitman

THIS is the hour, O soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best:
Night, sleep, death, and the stars.

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22 September 2005

Hurricane Rita

Our thoughts and prayers are with all those on the gulf who may be affected by Hurricane Rita.

Carole Orr, who lives in Houston, e-mailed yesterday to say that she was leaving for Austin.


More movies I'm looking forward to: In Her Shoes with Cameron Diaz, Shirley MacLaine and Toni Collette, one of those mother-daughter-sister movies that feels as though it may have significance in my own life. In Her Shoes will release nationwide October 7. But watch for sneak previews in your town over this weekend.

The Family Stone presents a great sampling of raw talent, past, present and future. Starring Diane Keaton, Claire Danes, Rachel McAdams and the lovely Evan Rachel Wood; and the unforgotten dreamboat Dermot Mulroney. It's a story of boy meets girl, boy brings girl home to meet the family and they hate her on sight. Or something like that.

--dB
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20 September 2005

Nobody Panic, We're Professionals

Okay, so at first I was panicking. But the plans for our auction are ticking over just like clockwork. We have a number of artists who are offering their works for sale in the auction.
We've finally hit on the name for the event, it will be called; Artists In Action: Katrina Aid and will begin on eBay on September 30th. Please keep checking back for information.
Well, we've survived, or rather are surviving our first minor catastrophe. Or as I like to call it, the Case of Milady's Computers (see, The Sting) I've managed to find a shovel and though it will take a few months, I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Think good thoughts everyone.
In a rare outing by Jodie Foster Flightplan comes out this weekend. Yay. A movie based on the Tony award-winning play Proof, with a powerhouse cast of Anthony Hopkins, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jake Gyllenhal and Hope Davis goes into limited release this weekend and wide release on the 30th. Double Yay.
And speaking of movie news, the glorious Annie Hathaway is taking on Lauren Weisberger's heroine from her novel, The Devil Wears Prada. The book about a the long-suffering personal assistant to the boss from hell is currently filming. The great Meryl Streep is playing the Devil of the title, magazine editor Miranda Priestly.
Personally, I would have loved to see Glenn Close playing Miranda, in fact, misread and thought Glenn close had the role and told about half a dozen people how excited I was. But, you know, that Streep girl...she's good too.
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13 September 2005

Hello, everyone

People are responding wonderfully to our efforts. The nice people at Borsini-Burr Gallery in Half Moon Bay are looking for works that may get involved and finally , thanks to our friend Carole Orr, we have made contact with the curator at PaintingsDirect.com.

It's coming together.

For now I have started a page dedicated to Katrina relief efforts. There are a dizzying number of ways and means for donation. And it's hard to discern the best way to help.

I have begun a page of links. I've checked into them for efficacy, legitimacy and accessibility. No promises, but I don't think you will go far wrong by giving money to any of the organizations listed on our Katrina page. If you know of any organizations that aren't listed but you think should be, email it to me and I will look into it.

So now...I've discovered a site that I'm completely obsessed with. The Hollywood Stock Exchange . I'm in love. I have the coolest portfolio.

They give you $2M in Hollywood dollars and you are able to invest in, movies, actors, directors and even a couple of writers (sigh)! I. Am. In. Love.

--dB

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05 September 2005

In At The Deep End

Okay, so we are in no way ready to handle a project like this, but we are going to try.

This is the New New News. We want to do our part to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina, in both Louisiana and Mississippi. We are joining in to support and to help facilitate a fundraising art auction that is the brain child of artist Terry Gardiner.

Our friend, artist Carole Orr has kindly offered her help and our first Artist in Residence Diego Marcial Rios has offered to donate a piece. Future Artist in Residence (we hope) Chris Fabbri, has gathered several artist friends and with them, is making some of his own work available for the auction.

We've never done anything like this before...but if there was ever a time to rise to the occasion, it's now. And you know me...I've always been more of a if-all-else-fails-read-the-directions kind of girl.

More tomorrow.

--dB
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02 September 2005

Life, Or Something Like It

I don't know exactly what to say. I came here tonight to rhapsodize on the joys of friendship. But the first thing I saw was that photo of New Orleans and the title of yesterday's post. "Stop, Children What's That Sound..." And it stopped me.

It is amazing that there is such catastrophe in the world, and yet...Life goes on. For the rest of us there are still jobs to go to and shopping to be done. Gas to be bought, children to be fed, papers to be written, arguments to be had...over money, over sex, over children and love; life goes on. For the rest of us.

But for people in Mississippi and Louisiana; life, as they have known it has come to a screeching halt. Think of the things that are gone. County records; births, deaths, marriages from two centuries. Beds and tables and chairs and family pictures in the home where you lived, the home in which your grandmother was born, swept away; precious memories never to be recovered. Homework...schools are gone, as for going to the job, the job is a memory, and no idea of when, or how, or from where, you'll go to another job again.

Yes, tonight I came here to rhapsodize about friendship and couldn't. Not tonight. Don't worry folks, the feeling will pass...and no doubt sooner than it should.

Life...it does have a way of going on.

--dB
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31 August 2005

Stop, Children What's That Sound...

Jason Reed/Reuters
From above, coastal Mississippi resembles moon-like wasteland
San Jose Mercury News, United States - 56 minutes ago
... An aerial view Wednesday of coastal Mississippi's devastation, two days after Hurricane Katrina tore through, revealed that nothing was as it should have been ...
Frustration at slow emergency response grows on Mississippi coast San Jose Mercury News In Mississippi: 'This is our tsunami' Minneapolis Star Tribune (subscription) Death is everywhere in Biloxi's nightmarish landscape Centre Daily Times
Hundreds feared dead in Mississippi
Monsters and Critics.com, UK - 16 hours ago
... Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour told CNN the hurricane had destroyed "every one" of the casinos that generated $500,000 per day in revenues for the state.
Power outages hit 900K in Mississippi; health officials issue boil ... Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal
Katrina Devastates New Orleans; Mississippi Death Toll Rises To ...
MTV.com - 15 hours ago
... While looters ransacked clothing and jewelry stores on New Orleans' Canal Street, in Biloxi, Mississippi, they ripped into casino slot machines to snatch coins ...
Hundreds feared dead in Mississippi Science Daily (press release)
New Orleans reels under worsening floods, looting
Taipei Times, Taiwan - 34 minutes ago
Engineers scrambled to plug two broken New Orleans levees and rescuers searched for survivors clinging to both hope and rooftops as the swirling, tea-colored ...
Total evacuation of New Orleans begins Chicago Tribune
Death toll in New Orleans expected to swell into thousands
San Jose Mercury News, United States - 34 minutes ago
NEW ORLEANS - A major American city all but disintegrated Wednesday, and the expected death toll from Hurricane Katrina mushroomed into the thousands. ...
New Orleans outlook bleak; at least 100 dead in Miss. USA Today Gulf Coast struggles to reach living, New Orleans to stem flood Globe and Mail
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29 August 2005

Xenophobia?

***The New News***
Bakery of the Poets: The Store. Here is my brand-new money making scheme. heh heh. We have become partners with the grand folks at Powell's Bookstore and will be selling books through our website. So please, take a look at few of my favorite titles and use our search engine to shop for more books. There's more to be done in store. (Hah. I made a rhyme. I'm a poet and I didn't know it. Look, I did it again. Am. I. Not. Brilliant? Let me take a moment to reflect) Yes, in the coming weeks more things will be added to the store as soon as I figure out how to do the shopping cart thingy.
***The New News***


I love Powell's. Seriously, they are the only bookseller on the web that doesn't make me feel as though I've sold my soul to the devil when I buy from them. They are a bookseller and are so clearly about books. Author interviews, essays, criticism, really great, kinda funky editor's/staff picks. They're the Berkeley of online booksellers. Even if they are in New York.

I try not to hold that against them.

I live in Northern California, which is this place of temperate climate and at times, astonishing beauty, and a cool, eclectic population. And I love it. I am, however, ruined for almost any other state.

Now, I'm a pretty easygoing girl, the past couple of days of whining notwithstanding, but after 27 years in Nor Cal I don't think I'm capable of moving to another state.

Actually, I should rephrase that, most other states. I could live in Washington, I'm pretty sure. It does rain a lot, but I like rain. Plus, they have islands...and ferries. I like ferries a lot.

I could live in Maine. I think. They have foliage and poetry. (don't they?)

I love the idea of New Mexico. And if I were to move there, I'd live in Sedona not Santa Fe. I read a Martha Grimes novel set in Sedona, and it seemed like an outrageously interesting place. But the problem with New Mexico, in fact with that whole SouthWest-ish area, is the heat! It gets crazy hot there! So, clearly New Mexico is out. And Arizona, and Texas.

And that whole area to the right of Texas.

The middle won't work, because they have various and sundry devastating storms on a regular basis.
People complain about California and earthquakes, but for the most part, our earthquake issues are pretty tame in comparison with many kinds of scary storms that carry away with wind and flood with rain certain places in the middle...every year!

Fugedaboudit.

Plus, I require water. I need to be near an ocean. Something about having the tidal push and pull nearby regulates my temperament.

Does that make me Xenophobic? Or do I mean the other thing?

--dB
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28 August 2005

The Sting, Part 3

..."(Starting to get mad, she knows durn well we can't "just add to the order" the has already been invoiced and staged, and we have customers waiting I've only said so five times)"...

So,eventually...when the first order was delayed...'shipped' via a different carrier. Time was wasting, so we placed a second order.

The long and the short being we paid for 10 computers, were expecting two computers and no computers came. Eventually, I understood that we had been scammed, (although the 'general manager' was sending me emails, swearing that I should expect a delivery later that week) I called to inform Paypal, emailed my customers, the bank, the FBI and many others...and waited for the sky to fall. Which it did.

It's horrible, I can't seem to escape the feeling of how much I've let people down. I can't seem to stop going over and over the things I did, the precautions I took that made me feel as if it would be okay climb out on this limb.

And finally there is this pain.

People lie, people cheat, people steal, this I know. But knowing that did nothing to prepare me for how it feels to be cheated, lied to, and stolen from. For days I was paralyzed. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to find out what to do. I no longer trusted my own judgment. At the same time, I knew my own judgment was needed to help extricate me from my current pickle.

And I was hurt. I mean like, my feelings. I didn't know how to put it into words until a few days ago. But, I assumed when going into business with these people a certain amount of good will. A sense that we were attempting to reach out across the ocean and each of us better our situation. They were a company attempting to break into new markets; I was an idealist attempting to finance a dream. I enjoyed the idea of buying and selling in a foreign land, like the traveling merchants of old, trading in one place after another. Nowadays we can touch the world from our keyboards.

Yeah...I touched. And got my fingers burned. And I felt it.

--dB
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25 August 2005

The Sting, Part 2

Well then...I became brilliant. The first order of business is a computer. So, why not hit up various computer dealers offering them (heh heh) the opportunity--the Lofty Opportunity of making a donation to a good cause. In the process of culling the web for computer resellers. I came across a B2B import/export site that was offering the exact, ex-gen computer I wanted for the insane price of $9.00+$45.00 shipping! I talked to a friend of mine whom I knew to be in the import/export business.

$9.00! I said, $9.00! Is it possible? Of course, she told me. Electronics are so cheap to manufacture and if you are able to buy direct from the manufacturer, it's entirely possible.

Yes. Well. Of course $9.00 was a typo (accidentally on purpose or not) the real price was $900. And as silly as it sounds when I found out, I, for a while, was deeply depressed. For at least 10 or 15 minutes. $900! The price might as well be $9000! And because they had a minimum order requirement I had to buy 2 of them! But then, I started thinking. (Full stop. Yes, if only I had. Stopped, that is) What if I sold two on eBay, had them shipped from the manufacturer in Asia, and then kept one for myself?

And wonder of wonders, they were willing to give me an even lower price if I bought 5. That way my friend could sell a couple as well and take a little money for arranging the shipping and all that custom, export stuff.

So okay, we did it. We sold four, ordered five and any minute DHL would rain down computers from heaven. (You don't know how unbelievably stupid I feel telling y'all this) Expect for one thing. Whenever my friend and I got together for a little game of 'count the computers', something odd would happen. 1 for me, 2 for customers, profit to me; 3 for customers, profit to you (mygooddearwonderfulfriend)? Wait, that's six!

No, no. That last part should be '2 for customers, profit to you'. Oh...i see (starting to hyperventilate just a tad) you say you sold 3 computers instead of 2. But you didn't tell me...hm. Just ad to the order you say? (Starting to get mad, she knows durn well we can't "just add to the order" thato has already been invoiced and staged, and we have customers waiting I've only said so five times)

Tomorrow, Part 3 of our saga.
*******************************************

So for now, soon, I'll be coming out of the other side of this. But it has weighed on my mind a lot. And my health a little. Not a lot of left over energy for creativity.

But yesterday, I received my copy of Once and Again, Season 2. I'd forgotten how good the show was. The way it took the events common to everyone's life and reflected...no, created from those events a story that is as emotionally true as anything that has happened in our own lives.

It's a Zwick, Herskovitz, Holzman thing.

Remember My So-Called Life? Anyone? Anyone? Every girl who ever saw the series recognized the emotional intensity of Angela's crush on Jordan Catalano. We've felt it. Remember that guy in high school or junior high, the one that made you forget to breathe just by walking past you in the hallway? Crazy. It never to me that anyone would capture that feeling in print and then convey it on a television screen in a way brought the old madness back all over again. It never to me that any one could, or that anyone would want to. But for these guys, Z, H and H. It's their specialty.

They can make us feel these things. Like an emotional memory.

So there's this art gallery in Half Moon Bay. They carry, display, show the work of a particular artist I would like to feature on BotP. But then, I looked at their site and realized, I would like to get the gallery itself involved in the de Bergerac Society. It could be kinda cool. They seem kinda cool. I'll let you know what happens.

Also, there are actors in the Bay Area I wish to interview. And a filmmaker or two. So everyone, the site is shaping up. It's a continual work in progress and you never know what's going to happen next.



--dB

24 August 2005

The Sting, Part 1

***The New News***
Yesterday called Bedford Falls Company, production company of Edward Zwick and Marshall Herskovitz to ask for sponsorship...imdb'em, if you don't know who I mean, you'll be surprised. We'll see what happens.
***The New News***

It happens so often as to seem commonplace, and yet, like everything else in life, from falling in love, to falling off a log, when it happens to you it feels anything but.

I been stung, scammed, ripped off. And to add to the horrific nature of the situation, I lost not only my own money (all of it), but that of a few other people into the bargain.

This has been keeping me stressed, awake, riddled with guilt frantically searching for ways to make good and, well, away from here. There is another emotion. One I shy away from mentioning, or even feeling, because it seems so silly to my logical mind. My feelings are hurt. What a ridiculous thing to say, huh? But they are. We know con artists exist. We know there are bad people out there who pocket their profits illegally, using the sweat of everyone else's brow. Dishonesty, crime...it's epidemic. One would think, that when it happens to you, you wouldn't take it so personally.

But the story; Part 1, anyway

I need a laptop. My health is such that working from bed is often desirable (read: necessary). And sharing space and time on a community computer, while trying to create and finance a magazine, verges on intolerable.

So, I got busy calling various Arts organizations in California to see about getting a helping wallet with start up costs, including the cost of a new laptop. That Arts funding in this country is in a shocking state, I sorta knew before I started, that the California Arts budget had been cut by a whopping 95%. 95 PERCENT! I did not know. As a result all arts organizations are feeling the pinch and needless to say disinclined to fund upstart Arts organizations who have not even their 501(c)3 standing. Ohwelltoobad.

Well...then...I became brilliant

Part 2, tomorrow
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23 August 2005

Stalking Darragh O'Donoghue, Part 2,

This just in. as in hot off the presses!

Wait...yes, it has been a week and for the past few weeks posts have been thin on the ground. There is a very good reason, which I'll get into tomorrow. But for now...

Hot off the very hot presses! Newsflash.

Okay, you may or remember, I have been desperately seeking great reviewers for this site one in particular Stalking Darragh O'Donoghue. Who would of thought in the day of imdb Amazon.com, Netflix, etc, customer reviews, that getting someone to pick up the stinking phone (figuratively, of course) and take my call would be nigh on impossible. You know, the call that says, (suave lounge lizard voice...with a southern accent) "Hello...I've seen your work (on Imdb, Netflix, Amazon) and I like your style. Write for me."

How many people have I emailed? Well clearly I can't tell you, 'cause it would be too embarrassing once I tell you that not a single person responded. Not one!

So Darragh...
I was determined not to let him go. Finally, I let my fingers do the walking through the international white pages. And what did I spy with my little eye? A phone number!

I let my fingers do more walking...and more walking...and more walking, until just a moment ago...results!

(youngish male voice...younger than I expected actually): Hello?

Me: Hello, is this Darragh O'Donoghue?

Darragh: Yes.

Me: The Darragh O'Donoghue who writes movie reviews?

Darragh: No. (what!) No but I've heard quite a lot about him.

Wait a minute, I'm still hung up on the 'No'. How can it be 'No'? They have the same name, they're in the same town in Ireland. How is it 'No'? Finally I start listening so I can find out. "I've heard quite a lot about him. We belong to the same film club, actually. It's funny, I go to the bookstore to pick up a book I've ordered, and they say, "Oh no, Mr. Donoghue, you've already picked it up. Like I said, we belong to the same film club. I went to join and they told me 'But Mr. O'Donoghue you've already signed up.' He was just in front of me actually, like I was 68 and he was number 67." He pauses. "Best of luck in finding him though."

What? No wait, don't hang up. All I could see was the ocean that lay between me and my goal, whereas he-- "You've got to help me."

He'd been terribly friendly up till now, and well, still was. It was a fine joke between he and I, getting hold of the wrong Darragh, but to drag in an innocent Darragh (even if it was the Darragh I wanted) using him was another matter. He began to get cautious. "What do you want him for?", he asked (you know, cautiously). "I am desperately seeking a reviewer for my site." I replied, well desperately. "Let me take your email, actually I write reviews as well," he sandwiched in almost under his breath, "but I'll see if I can get your information to him."

This statement of course sent me into a whole new flight of fancy. Two Darraghs! Darragh the Elder and Darragh the Younger, The Dynamic Dueling Darraghs. All sorts of things...heh heh.
(No...guys, wait. Don't run away. I promise not to use any of those titles. I won't. I really won't.)

The long and short?
Another exciting chapter in the Stalking of Darragh O'Donoghue
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17 August 2005

Pink Elephants in Space

I can come up with really great titles. Even when I have nothing to say.

--dB

13 August 2005

Hello Young Lovers

Hello people,
The song Good Night My Someone is floating through my head. But Hello Young Lovers, the music and lyrics to which I've never remembered in my life is the song title that keeps running though my mind. What's that about.

Anyway I'm mellow mood. Publishing the site, or even partially publishing it always puts me in a mellow mood. Hm...loverly.

In the next few days you should look for a review War of the Worlds written by Maya Jewell. Our Artist in Residence, Carole Orr; article and artwork. She is having at two locations in Houston this weekend. at two locations this weekend in
Houston. Magnolias new gallery location, 10515C Katy Freeway 77024 at Town and Country. And Diamond Domani, 5175 Westheimer #2100 The
Galleria Houston 77056

What we have today is the poetry of Alice Friman and Joan Marques. And the wonderful, wonder Stephen Tulloch has kindly leant us the use of his drawing Cyrano de Bergerac. We hope to feature more of his work in the future.

Everyone has been so nice, it just reinforces my belief in the generosity of the artistic community.

Ciao for now.

--dB

12 August 2005

Diverted...Distracted....Disengaged

Due to technical difficulties beyond our control the regularly scheduled programming is hereby...postponed. Until tomorrow.

I'm sorry everyone. Unfortunately we have run into deadline difficulties and will have to put off our launch until tomorrow. I beg that you bear with me.

--dB
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11 August 2005

Stalking Darragh O'Donoghue

Heh heh heh. You may have noticed...but perhaps you haven't...that the Views and Reviews section of our little 'zine isn't exactly on fire. The problem is--well, I'm not really sure what the problem is. My heart was searching the Web for my true sorrow. And then I read a review for one of my favorite French flicks of all time: MERCI POUR LE CHOCOLAT, (US Title: NIGHTCAP) cool, Hitchcockian piece of cinema, featuring chocolate and classical music.

I loved the movie, I loved the review almost as much. It was written by some chick named Alice Liddell. No, I did not catch on. As far as I'm concerned the surname of little-Alice-who-went-down-a-rabbit-hole-and-had-an-adventure will always be: In Wonderland.

I learned in due course that Alice Liddell was actually Darragh O'Donoghue of Dublin, Ireland. My efforts to get a working email address, for Mr. Odonoghue lead me all over the web. He popped up in the oddest places; Amazon.com, Sensesofcinema.com, a fully formed web-presence. Until he disappeared. So now, I search for Darragh who is possessed of a finesse, a sensibility an abject adoration of film and literature, that makes me feel I cannot give up until I find him.

I had to let go of littemissknowitall who wrote that great FIREFLY review. I refuse to lose another man! Into the breach!
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--dB

09 August 2005

The reason I love going to the movies and the theatre alone

The Concert
by Edna St Vincent Millay

No, I will go alone.
I will come bak when it's over.
Yes, of course I love you.
No, it will not be long.
Why may you not come with me?--
You are too much my lover.
You would put yourself
Between me and song.

If I go alone,
Quiet and suavely clothed,
My body will die in its chair
And over my head a flame,
A mind that is twice my own,
Will mark with icy mirth
The wise advance and retreat
Of armies without a country,
Storming a nameles gate,
Hurling terrible javelins down
From the shouting walls of a singing town
Where no women wait!
Armies clean of love and hate,
Marching lines of pitiless sound
Climbing hills to the sun and hurling
Golden spears to the ground!
Up the lines a silver runner
Bearing a banner whereon is scored
The milk and steel of a bloodless wound
Healed at length by the sword!

You and I have nothing to do with music.
We may not make of music a filgree frame,
Within which you and I,
Tenderly glad we came,
Sit smiling, hand in hand.

Come now, be content.
I will come back to you, I swear I will;
And you will know me still.
I shall only be a little taller
Than when I went.

-----------------------
Good night all.
--db

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04 August 2005

Bridezillas: Let the Misogyny Begin

When the first Bridezilla aired a couple of years ago, it had more of a documentary feel. The brides-to-be featured had more than a little something wrong with them. One of whom nagged and whined and generally made all women look bad while attempting to wheedle a diamond necklace, because it was 'sparkly'. The other bride, who truly frightened me in the original series, was the one who kept looking at her groom as though she hated him ...during the ceremony! When he went to give her the kiss, I thought she might slug him.

I kept yelling at the grooms: Run! Run! Run for your lives!

But the new series ... I mean come on. Sure the announcer chick hypes every single interaction as though the bride is just two octaves below a full-on "NO WIRE HANGERS!!!!", screaming fit. But the show simply does not live up to its name. What I see are a group of women, some who are naturally very detailed, some who are not, attempting to put together the biggest event of their lives...both in scope (a wedding is a large and complicated event) and in personal significance. They are emotional and busy and stressed and the fiance's aren't usually pulling their weight, but none of the women I've seen are truly monstrous.

But the show calls them Bridezillas. Meaning if you take the tailor to task when; one week before your wedding you arrive at a 'final' fitting to discover that your dress is no where near ready, you're a Bridezilla. If you discover your wedding gown has a tear in it---an hour before the ceremony---and you call the bridal shop to cuss them out; you're a Bridezilla. If your reception hall tells you a week or two before your wedding, that you can't have the DJ you've booked, because you now have to pay extra for insurance, and you get a little edgy; look out, you're a Bridezilla.

I hate this show. So why am I still watching?

--dB

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03 August 2005

There's NOOO Butter In Hell!!!

There really isn't. I've checked. And there is no butter in hell. So why should such an obvious statement of simple fact gives me the giggles every time I think of it? The blame rests entirely upon the manifold talents of Ian McKellan who plays the scruffy, hygiene-derelict and practically incomprehensible religious zealot, Amos Starkadder of Cold Comfort Farm. Though he may by far, be one of the least odd characters on that benighted place. There have always been Starkadders at Cold Comfort Farm, so there are quite a few people scattered about the place who are certifiably as mad as snakes.

If you don't believe me about anything else. Trust me on this, watch this movie. Start a new tradition, get a bottle of wine and a few friends, and discover why the phrase "There's no butter in Hell!!!", should be so darned funny.

--dB 
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29 July 2005

What a Girl (or Start Up Nonprofit) Wants

Yes indeedy the transformation between businesswoman and writer/editor/artist-type is starting. I can feel it converting my insides. Hoohooohoo. Heh. Heh. Heh.

No but seriously folks. I've decided to begin sharing with you the joys, excitement, trials and tribulations of starting our little nonprofit. The business stuff first. While awaiting our Prince Charming bearing a battered leather briefcase (read: pro bono attorney), we have begun selling some things on ebay, in hopes of gathering a little dough to cover our filing fees, et cetera.

Artistically and editorially...

We still need reviewers. I've been beating the Web for the past two weeks in order to find visual, literary and performing art lovers who write. Hopefully, hopefully someone will respond soon. You know...or else. Yeah...you know.

That's all for now. Sayonara and signing off it's

--dB

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27 July 2005

Split Personalities and the Caped Crusaders

Yes, I have been away. Did you miss me? One hopes. Sorry everyone, I have been submersed (read: drowning) in business mode for the past few days, attempting to raise enough money to keep the lights on and food on the table.

We are in a bit of crisis mode here at BOTP; attempting to juggle artistic, editorial, business and networking tasks all at once. And what has suffered? Besides me, that is?

The grave musings of the (a?)musing Bergerac.

But this is a great spot and I love it.

I know what I said, when I was feeling all high-brow when last we met. I said that I was just about to embark on a reading of Sylvia's Lovers by La Gaskell. Well...not really. I tried, but print was so very small and Nero Wolfe was calling my name. So I'm actually reading Too Many Cooks by Rex Stout, the master craftsman of storytelling.

In a couple of weeks on August 12 we will be launching our second issue. In it we have to look forward to the poetry of the great Alice Friman, an article written by artist Carole Orr. And the very first in what I hope will become a regular feature in BOTP. The work of a very young, very promising poet, who I will be talking a little more about as we get closer to publication date.

See you in my dreams.

--dB
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18 July 2005

"Yes sir, Cap'n Tight-Pants." -- Kaylee, 'Firefly'

All hail Firefly! All hail Serenity! All hail the Sci-Fi Channel!

So Firefly is being re-aired on the Sci-Fi Channel starting Friday. Ohhhh....yay. You do not understand the nature and the depth of my obsession with loving this show. Omigosh. Hot dog.

Each time the promo airs...when it starts, I tell myself that I will absolutely refrain from 'Wahoo-ing' at the end. I am, after all, a nearly 31-year old adult, fully capable of a normal amount of self-control. It isn't as though I haven't seen every episode...y ou know...a hundred times. It is not as though I can't quote long passages of dialogue from abso-frikkin' memory. Given the givens, there is no call ('call'...see...'call', positively marinated in Firefly-ness, I am) for letting out a big ol' 'Wahoo!!!' as the promo fades to black and punching the air with both fists!

Invariably, the promo comes to an end and (usually in mid discussion with self) a big old 'Wahoo' erupts from my lungs and my arms are raised in enthusiastic victory.

There is something wrong with me.

Really and truly.

Because I haven't even gotten to the best part of this little episode. Yes, Firefly will be airing on the Sci-Fi Channel, beginning this Friday. But I will not be watching. I'm psychotic; which bring's to mind a whole other Firefly remembrance, which hopefully you guys will be able to enjoy, when the show begins airing this Friday.

That's the point. I'm this excited. Yes, this excited, not because I will be able to watch Firefly on TV again (cause believe me whenever I need a Firefly fix I rent the dvds, no commercials and no waiting until next week), but because everyone else will. The actors, writers, directors, production designers and costume and lighting designers are all tremendously talented. This show, butchered by Fox and canceled without ceremony, deserves a second chance.

It is pretty PG-13, in places. You're going to want to exercise your own discretion. But oh, my goodness. There is so much junk on the air waves right now that is far more intense and is getting safe passage from the networks.

I. Love. Firefly. Yay.

Okay...
Okay...

WAHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm gonna order the discs.
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17 July 2005

I know what I like

I know nothing about art. But I love it. You know like, visual art...in particular, painting. It's just one of those things. I want to learn, but, honestly where to begin?

It's the human condition. I mean...well. Here--I love Italian (the language, guys) and could probably speak far better than I do; if only I would simply open my mouth. Whenever I call Cavalli Book Store I always mean to place my order in Italian, but I don't. There's fear of course. Those of you who have experienced my pushi...persuasiveness on behalf of Bakery of the Poets may not believe it, but I am a very shy person.

No, seriously, I am.
Stop laughing.

But the Italian inhibitions aren't related to bashfulness, it's the keen awareness that I don't know what I don't know, that weighs down my tongue. Am I sure the verb is sto and not sono? Is the tense past or present? Feminine or masculine? I don't know enough to be sure, so when that incredibly impatient sounding guy comes to the phone, I order in English when I long to speak Italian.

It's the same thing with art, I am not at all conversant in its language. And that's always been okay. I've liked what I liked and when the shape of my own ignorance threatened to step between me and enjoyment of the art form; I simply backed off for a bit and waited until I no longer felt quite so stupid.

With literature it's different. I've read so much and written so much that when a narrative doesn't work I have (by now) an instinctive understanding of the reason. I may not be able to fix it, particularly when it comes to my own work, but I can usually say where the writer went wrong. And when something really works, something that makes my mind feel like it's floating on big fluffy clouds (Austen's Persuasion) or makes me feel as though my chemical makeup is being altered (Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway). I know why and even if I don't know know, I understand.

When it comes to visual art, I am at sea. So can anyone tell me why, yesterday, when I saw John William Waterhouse's Psyche Entering Cupid's Garden; some tiny knot deep in my stomach (one I hadn't even known existed) relaxed and unraveled? Or why, when I saw Daniel Gerhartz's River's Edge; I suddenly wanted to cry?

--dB
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14 July 2005

I like sheets...dang-it!

I love many things at various times. At this particular moment one of those things includes Ebay. It's cool. Yeah it's cool. A couple of friends are decorating and redecorating their bedrooms, and I have been tasked to procure high-thread count sheets for them. Okay...so actually, I tasked myself to procure high thread count sheets for them. There's nothing like shopping with other people's money.

And also, I have a bedding and linens fetish. This, I freely admit. Nothing can compare to the feel of high thread count sheets against the skin. Or big, fluffy towels of 100% Egyptian cotton. Yum. So far the highest thread count I've been able to afford (for myself) is 360tc at eBay prices. Hold on, afford, did I say afford? I did not mean 'afford'. I meant 'buy'. As to the price, it was so low, low enough to make Angels weep. I know a girl named Angel, and I cannot bring myself to name the price for fear she would start sobbing. For the sake of all the other Angels out there I will continue to keep the great price strictly to myself.

Anyway, the point is...What was the point? Oh yes. Some people like one thing and others like something else. I for instance would prefer creaturely comforts like a nice bed with high thread count sheets, body lotion with real shea butter, organic skin care...okay, well the point is, that I would sooner indulge more sensual (you know what I mean) preferences than aesthetic ones.

Other people...for instance, my mother, enjoy beautifully appointed rooms. With china collections, vases and...other...prettily-sitting-around-type things. Odd that.

Goo-bye (yes, I know!)

--dB

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13 July 2005

Oh save my aching arches

So have you noticed how some of the captions of the emoticons don't really match the icon itself?

I'm in a bit of a noticing mood tonight. Which is why I started reading back through some of the old posts. I found them amusing, even if I do say it myself. They are pretty darn good. The entries I've been writing lately sort of suck, but, once upon a time, I was a good writer.

Ahh, for the good old days. Anyway, I have this friend (whom I love worship and adore) who is just a little half-baked. Not incompetent exactly. She (may she live forever) has a tendency to not quite dot her eyes and cross her tees (yes I know) in rather a big way. And I myself am a compulsive 'T'-(see I can do it when I try) crosser. I have to know all my ducks are in a row. I like to have a plans A, B and C all spelled out before I start something.

So what do I do? Something incredibly stupid. In an effort to make myself and this site financially viable, I have mixed myself up in a project with my friend. You know how people say, you shouldn't mix business and friendship; well we are a perfect example of that particular truism. She's great, and I'm great. But just like everyone else, we have our little neurosis in particular areas. In this case, my neurosis and her neurosis are completely incompatible.

Everything is going to be fine, it will all work out, but in the meantime, I'm stressing. I'm trying not to call her every ten minutes because somewhere in the region of my higher reasoning faculties (which still have control over my motor skills) I'm aware that compulsivity (hah!) Is terribly unattractive.

So until it all works out, I'll be over here in my little corner of the room chewing my thumbnail and not panicking.

'Til tomorrow.

Except no, wait. The dogs. I'm house sitting for friends and they have the most adorable floppy-eared, long-bodied, short-legged pair of mutts you could imagine. They're called Lady and Honey. They remind me of me and my brother when we were kids. Honey is like Jason, small, wiry, always ready to grab the spotlight or be on the go, always banging in or out, usually with some gross kind of show-and-tell cupped in his hands. Lady is more like I was, friendly but shy, usually sitting in the corner of the room trying not to be noticed by my mother, for fear she'd send me outside to play when I'd rather be reading or listening in on a conversation that didn't concern me. They are very cute dogs.

a domani

--dB

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12 July 2005

Yay!!!!!

So we're launched and I couldn't be happier. The site has some minor formatting issues, some due to my own ignorance of formatting and others are editing issues that I will work out in coming days.
So, I launched 13 minutes late. I had a of some sort, like two hours later, too wound up to settle to celebration after hitting the 'Publish To Web' button. Like I said there are some things, but I'm very happy with the site over all. I am very grateful to those of you who have answered my ad, or who have been kind enough to answer my direct requests with articles and artwork. Thank you!
My brother died a year ago today. I really began to feel it after all the hoopla died down. But I'm glad, hereafter to hold July 12 as a bittersweet day, rather than only a bitter one. 'night all. --dB

11 July 2005

Watch this spot at 2 o'clock

Tomorrow at 2 p.m. I will tip a glass of something alcoholic and push 'Publish'. So will begin a new and exciting chapter in my life and I hope, a useful and successful one. If you're around and you feel like it, watch the hour strike and tip a glass of a little something yourself. Thanks for hanging in there with me folks. --dB

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10 July 2005

Yay...hello, I'm tired

Just had the loveliest conversation with Diego Rios. Interviews are like, my favertist think...thing. I'm really tired, have I mentioned that? What I hate (with the heat of ten thousand suns) is transcribing them. Especially when I'm transcribing from notes rather than audio tape. Ick! But it's done, and hence, my exhaustion. Anyway, enough about that. Introducing our editor extraordinaire Daphne O'Neal. (applause, stamping of feet, whistles) Ahem. We will have more about her tomorrow. I can tell you this, she speaks and/or knows her way around several languages. Which may come in handy, if we are able to become as international as I would hope. Last, but certainly not least. In another addition to the generosity that seems to have become a theme in my life during the past few weeks. New York based writer and author of the critically acclaimed A Little More Than Kin Rebecca Kavaler has donated some of her poetry. So come back on Tuesday and you will see that as well. For now people, 'good night, sweet prince, I'll see you in my dreams'. yrs dB
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09 July 2005

Four days to launch!!!

And who do we have? Who will be taking part in our maiden voyage? Well, I won't tell everything, but July 12th will usher in a new age for BOTP. Our first Artist In Residence is Diego Marcial Rios. He has kindly offered to contribute images of his work. We will be talking to him about his work and process in our first issue. You can view his work at Art Xpo.com How cool is that? We also have a new editor (Thank goodness!)a lovely and talented young woman who will be saving our collective skins in the coming months. We will introduce her after finalizing a few details. She's very cool. So right now, I'm watching Monk. How much do I love Tony Shaloub. Not only is he a talented...talented man. But I love saying his name. Tony Shaloub. Tony Shaloub. Tony Shaloub. It's a great name. One more time. Say it with me now, 'Tony Shaloub'. Tell me does anyone remember a show called 'Stark Raving Mad'? Or am I the only one? I probably am given the speed with which the show was canceled. Righty-ho, people. Good work and good night. --dB
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