Hey y’all. Hope these make you smile. Stay healthy and safe. We’ll get through this. Love to all.
Tucker’s Quarantine
Tag: style
Deity in Diversity
Maybe someday we will
have written about humanity
and grace so much
that the paper we scribble on
will burn down
the forest of hate
that grows in casket-closed minds,
eradicating words like
racism, hate, bigotry.
The fire cleansing away
evil and ignorance.
Strike a match with
your pen.
Let’s try at least to
direct the language toward love.
Let’s keep moving the
adjectives higher and higher.
Trust the verbs to lead us,
the pin of light, to the fire.
Maybe as the trees come undone,
leaves igniting,
branches bursting with truth,
charity and clarity will rise.
Rustling beneath skin.
Love rising, tapping deep.
Opening eyes and cleaning tongues
in the dialect of compassion.
Hope slipping into the core.
Porous and large.
Looking out in every direction
until it is inside the sky,
the rocks, the moon.
Lacing the night and hearts with promise,
the rainy season finally over.
Until then, let your pens sway
against the dark waves.
Let’s push our boats against the current.
Light the candle wick.
Kiss it with fervor.
Give flame to the wind and waves.
-Tosha Michelle
Photo, my own
How to be an Expert at Life.
Praise imperfections.
Ask questions.
Don’t fear the answers.
Do fear snakes, toads,
and Donald Trump’s hair.
Adore books, animals,
weaknesses, the broken,
and growing older.
Find a love to orbit around.
Have a constellation seeking brain.
A heart that star gazes.
Don’t trip on what’s been
gone for years.
Walk hand in hand with today.
The one seemly not
telling the truth is
the one you should
listen to the hardest.
Pay attention to your
conscience, make
sure it’s really yours.
Know there’s beauty;
in words. The ones
you use and the ones
you leave out.
Read the classics.
Brighten to artistry
Don’t be afraid to improvise.
Listen to jazz while
drinking iced coffee.
Don’t admire yourself
too much, this can
lead to disaster.
There are two types
of people in the world,
be neither of them.
Know sometime what
seems useless is
full of meaning.
Learn how to bend,
not break.
Lose yourself to love,
to madness.
Always carry a suitcase
full of mischief.
A passport of adventure.
Don’t forget to add a dash of moonlight.
Season the nights with heat.
Create the scene.
Live it.
Lose your shoes and inhibitions.
Split the wishbone.
Know nothing important
comes with a manual.
Just because your
spirit is tangled,
doesn’t mean your
soul has to be tied in a knot.
Be full of vigor,
meaningful chit chat
and chocolate. Lots
of chocolate!
Know there is holiness in the missteps.
Grace in the fumbles.
Remain unfinished.
Be the light.
-Tosha Michelle
Bridges and Blissful Beauty.
Some random shots from our latest outdoor adventures and a song that fits the mood. “ On Our Way” by The Perennials. Gorgeous tune. Happy Monday. 💕
Let It Be.
Happy Monday, y’all. I hope everyone had a lovely weekend. On Saturday we attended a wedding of a friend. It was a beautiful ceremony.
Sunday we went hiking.
Today, I’m in a musical mood. When am I not, right? Here’s one of my all time favorite songs. Listening to it always makes me feel peaceful and brings tears to my eyes. It speaks to my soul every time.
“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be”
Key, Pearl. Wisdom
We cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are.
Max DePree
The Wingspan of History
Years later if you do find yourself
giving into nostalgia’s fancy, flight
and all. Do not lament the departed
back or the wingspan of history,
the lost of what was.
Remember my dear, the albatross
left its shell long ago,
only the scent of sea water lingers.
If you must soar back into the past,
take solace in those bygones
summers, magnetic in their reticent sweetness of air. Recall the pleasure
of moonlight and innocence. Be
grateful for every hour spent, lessons
learned by the skin of heart.
Do not think of how the storm came,
or the way the Earth bent and folded,
instead give yourself to sentimentality
of summer’s rain soaked showers.
Once you’re throughly drenched,
feel your feet slowly touch the
earth again.Watch as the past drifts
and wafts away.
My how it shimmers in the distance,
riding on the whims of the sky.
The warm updraft feels nice for a
moment but not as lovely as the pull of the ground and the beauty of now.
-Tosha Michelle
“Though this be madness, yet there is method in ‘t.”.
Before I get into the post, I apologize in advance for the formatting. I’ve been having issues with WordPress recently and it making me exceedingly frustrated. Of course, my lack of tech savvy could be the real culprit (but GRRR either way). Happy Monday, beautiful people. Speaking of the beautiful…
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Just finished reading The Richard Burton Diaries. Oh my lands! What a journey it was. As usual, I’m late to the book signing, the diaries came out in 2012, In fairness though, by that time, RB had been dead for almost 30 years. Hopefully, he won’t hold it against me. May he rest in lavish, bookish, and superior peace.
My humble take on the inner wordings of flawed greatness, turns out Richard Burton was not just an accomplished actor, but also a gifted writer. The diaries are a superb read, magical and moving for their realism, and gut wrenching for Burton’s sometimes biting cynicism. If you’re not familiar with Richard Burton, he was an acclaimed Welsh actor of both film and stage, probably best known for movies like Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, (my favorite) Where Eagles Dare, and his renounced stage performances as Henry V, and Author of Camelot. One also can’t think of Burton without mentioning his turbulent romance and marriages to the legendary and glorious Elizabeth Taylor. The latter takes on a leading role in his diaries. In one passage he writes of Taylor:
“I have been inordinately lucky all my life but the greatest luck of all has been Elizabeth. She has turned me into a moral man but not a prig, she is a wildly exciting lover-mistress, she is shy and witty, she is nobody’s fool, she is a brilliant actress, she is beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography, she can be arrogant and wilful, she is clement and loving, Dulcis Imperatrix, she is Sunday’s child, she can tolerate my impossibilities and my drunkenness, she is an ache in the stomach when I am away from her, and she loves me!”
Their relationship was one for the ages and fascinating in the way only tormented love can be. However, it’s not as intriguing as Burton himself, with his melodic voice, rugged good looks, and command of the English language (both written and spoken) Just look at how eloquently he described the wonders of traveling:
“Of the gladdest moments in human life, methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands. Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of Habit, the leaden weight of Routine, the cloak of many Cares, and the slavery of Home, man feels once more happy. The blood flows with the fast circulation of childhood. Excitement lends unwonted vigour to the muscle, and the sudden sense of freedom adds a cubit to the mental stature. Afresh dawns the morn of life. Again the bright world is beautiful to the eye, and the glorious face of nature gladdens the soul. A journey, in fact, appeals to Imagination, to Memory, to Hope-the sister graces of our mortal being.”
Burton’s diaries begin in 1933, when he was just a young lad of 14. They conclude in 1983, the year of his untimely death at the age of 58. The journals provide an intimate glance into his private life and innermost thoughts. Thoughts that come across as lyrical, profound, self indulgent, deeply introspective, surprisingly scholarly, and always captivating. Like all of us, Burton had his demons, his vanities, his disappointments, his heartaches, his less than moments but also his successes and Mohammed mountaintop, (isn’t life a glamorous hoot) glimmer and glimpses. In some parts, the book reads like a Hollywood gossip column, in others, an erotic love story (always on the precipitate of becoming a Shakespearean tragedy), and in still others, a collection of Dylan poems with Yates’ Revolutionary Road thrown in to make you ponder the banality of even the most extraordinary of lives.
As an aside (and noteworthy, for all of us reading fiends), his love of books almost rivaled his love of Taylor. He consumed volume upon volumes of reading material. He read ferociously and obsessively from every genre. His knowledge of literature was extraordinary. He was very opinionated on the novels he read too. His summation of The Godfather and the Bond books made me chuckle. His knowledge of Shakespeare and Blake was astonishing. I’ve added a few of his suggestions to my reading list. Thanks RB! I think he’d probably hate that I’m calling him that. It beats Dick though.
The impression left upon completion of the book, Richard Burton was a multi dimensional, brilliant, curious, tender, sometimes lovable, other times unlikable man but a man who was always authentic, generous, and genuine in his assessment of himself and the world around him. Like most creative types, he did have periods of misanthropy and depression. At times he was full of self loathing and a natural born critic, both of himself and others, but he tempered his harshness with an engaging wit. He was wickedly funny. If I had to sum up Richard Burton, I would say in my pedestrian and utterly lacking way, he was a bit of a Dickens character, mixed with Oscar Wilde and King Lear.
Oh and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I highly recommend The Richard Burton Diaries. It’s a stellar read for anyone who is a fan of old Hollywood, rags to riches tales, love stories, engaging writing, and tortured men with faces like a Greek God. Men who don’t mind getting deeply personal with their journals. Note, the writings really take off around his 1965 entries. You can see his progression as a writer. Richard Burton was more than apt with a turn of a phrase and danced his way through the pages with the grace of Baryshnikov. If you choose to read the diaries, you will come away with an intimate portrait of a wonderfully complex, indelibly flawed human. He may have been Hollywood royalty but his heart was just like ours, one that bent and broke on occasion. I wish I could do justice to his musings, but you’ll just have to read him for yourself.
-Tosha Michelle
The best scene from “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” The acting is mesmerizing.
Love. Love. Love
The love blog, soon we’ll be making another post. The love blog promises something for everyone or (whatever floats your “Love Boat”). Pretty sure only people of a certain age will get that dorky reference. Anyway, greetings y’all. How about some quotes on love to brighten our day? Happy 4th of July. We’re off to see the movie “Yesterday”. The reviews are fairly good so we’ll see. 💕 Here’s the trailer and then it about love.
“True love stories never have endings.”
-Richard Bach
“The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.”
–Audrey Hepburn
If you keep giving up on people so quickly, you’re gonna miss out on something great.”
-Robin, from How I Met Your Mother
“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.”
–Maya Angelou
“Souls tend to go back to who feels like home.”
-N. R. Heart
“Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age.”
–Anais Nin
“Happily ever after is not a fairytale, it’s a choice”
-Fawn Weaver
It was the time when they loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Life would still present them with other mortal trails, of course, but that no longer mattered: they were on the other shore.
Me!
What’s up, y’all. I haven’t had much time for writing, or social media, but wanted to post something. Taylor Swift has a new single out. I like it., Oh my gosh, the cats are the best part though. Check it out. Happy Saturday! Lots of love ❤️❤️❤️
