I just wrote an essay entitled Orange: Emancipation from a Hatred of a Color of the Sun for my stylistics course. It was cathartic. Here is the first paragraph: Orange: Emancipation from a Hatred of a Color of the Sun If you are confused, check with the sun Carry a compass to help you along, Your feet are going to be on the ground Your head is there to move you around... --REM, “Stand” Orange is a color of the sun, the color of a citrus fruit from a tree, and a color of a shoe that was stolen from me in a cruel keep-away game in middle school in the early 1980s. Orange is the color of the last scrawny pumpkin alone and surviving in the pumpkin patch, the colorful combination of primary colors: red; the color of passion and pain, and yellow; the color of joy and jaundice; a colorful blend of the red stoplight and the yellow caution light that proved to be directionless in a scarred musical memory—one of many, a plethora, and in the pain of the memory here I stand. I also wrote lyrics based on the essay and it needs to be turned into a song. Here are the lyrics: Orange: Emancipation from a Hatred of the Color of the Sun Lyrics by Lori Caskey Sigety -2012 Orange is… Eh)-manci-pation from a hatred of a color of the sun emanci-pation from a hatred of a color of the sun orange you happy I’ve become orange you happy I’ve become emancipated from a hatred of a color of the sun Orange is (a) color of a citrus fruit that tastes so sweet (a) color of hightop shoe stolen off my feet (a) color of a little pumpkin left in the patch (a) color of keep-away-game from bully-bully trash (Eh)-manci-pation from a hatred of a color of the sun emanci-pation from a hatred of a color of the sun orange you happy I’ve become orange you happy I’ve become emancipated from a hatred of a color of the sun Go west, go north, go east, go south Go west, go north, go east, go south Her percussive light was green But why the boys and men so mean Orange you happy happy happy we’re not so mean? (Eh)-manci-pation from a hatred of a color of the sun emanci-pation from a hatred of a color of the sun orange you happy I’ve become orange you happy I’ve become emancipated from a hatred of a color of the sun No boy can steal my shoe, No man can stifle my sound, No one can steal my song, As I play percussion LOUD! (Eh)-manci-pation from a hatred of a color of the sun emanci-pation from a hatred of a color of the sun orange you happy I’ve become orange you happy I’ve become emancipated from a hatred of a color of the sun!
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Java and Moshi Relaxing on the Couch, LCSJS 2012
Grades for speech class were submitted via telephone and internet. Thank goodness for a caring department head and modern technology. When I am feeling low, usually it's a precursor to an illness. (I should have known something was physiologically up after my previous post. )Thought I dodged the sinus bullet when Steve fully recovered from his particularly nasty infection, but it sprang over, manifested, lurked and hit strategically after I conducted my last class. I am grateful it was Thursday night rather than last Sunday night, so classes would not be missed. Sadly, I am spending my weekend sleeping and on the couch rather than traveling with my cohorts for a lia sophia retreat to reboot my jewelry business, but there's a time and reason for everything. I am grateful for a week off from everything--except for my favorite writing class--so I can recover. I like to plan things month to month. It makes life interesting--and manageable.
Monday, March 19, 2012
On days like this, I wonder where I am going in my life. On days like this, I feel like life is going in the wrong direction. On days like this, I am sliding down a slope, and I no longer want to make the climb. On days like this, I am tired of feeling unsuccessful, not measuring up, and feeling abandoned. I am saddened by days like this.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
This quote, sent to me by Steve, is appropriate for today. Technically, it is still winter and St. Patrick's Day in Northern Indiana. Even though I'm part Irish, I'm not really too enthusiastic about St. Patrick's Day this year. Perhaps because my attention, like most cooped-up midwesterners, is diverted to the allure of the summery weather outside. Mostly, though, especially in recent years, I am attracted to the beauty of an ordinary day. (Except for Mondays, perhaps. Those can be rough.) I reminded myself to play a little today, so I ventured out into the backyard and started planning this year's gardening season. The last two years have proved to be amazing and I want to maintain a gorgeous--and natural--landscape. The summery pre-spring fever hit me so hard that I wanted to plant wildflower seeds today. And technically, they would be okay unless we are hit with snowfall in March or April, and then I have to remember to cover them. (Honestly, that's probably not gonna happen.) I'm ready to plant, and Steve gently said, "Remember, Lolo, it's still technically winter. Give it a little time, and then start planting." He's right, so I refer back to the quote he sent me today: "Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished." Nothing like a little zen for St. Patrick's Day.
Friday, March 16, 2012
(This photograph was taken in 2010) Last night I noticed the glow of three yellow daffodils in my front yard. The flowers were planted almost twelve years ago by the previous owners and bloom in the spring. I have considered adding more of the sunny flowers in the front yard by the porch for curb appeal. Although I am a summer flower person, I do enjoy spring flowers. Perhaps I get so caught up in the summer and fall flowers that I forget about the springtime ones until I notice them again on an unseasonably warm night in mid-March.
Wednesday, March 07, 2012
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
It's been an interesting day. I drove to campus in a coat and hat; I left campus with my coat draped around my right arm. The day is balmy in Northern Indiana. I can't help but maintain a healthy suspicion of warm weather in early March. It seems that an underlying storm tends to brew in the winter when it's supposed to be cold. My heart goes out to the victims and survivors of the tornados that hit our Indiana neighbors to the south, Illinois, and Kentucky. I also dedicate this blog entry to our snow angels;our neighbors;our extended family,who lost a family member this week. We love you and send healing thoughts your way.
Sunday, March 04, 2012
This is one of those kind of days. Today as I type, Sakura climbs up next to me on the couch and goes into a trance, kneading on the gray blanket, first left polydactyl paw, then right polydactyl paw, in a march-like rhythm. Left-right, left-right, left-right,left-right. Her eyes are closed and she purrs softly. I wonder what Sakura is dreaming about,perhaps her kittenhood, and dare not interrupt this very sweet and primitive moment. Knead, purr,knead,purr,knead,purr. Knead,knead,knead. Purr, purr, purr. Then Sakura jumps off the couch and saunters into the office to greet Steve with her tail and then Steve lifts her on his lap. I'm sure the other cats are calling her a sellout to the humans.
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