I am Aslan, hear me roar.

[nullalux]

You're The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe!
by C.S. Lewis
You were just looking for some decent clothes when everything changed quite dramatically. For the better or for the worse, it is still hard to tell. Now it seems like winter will never end and you feel cursed. Soon there will be an epic struggle between two forces in your life and you are very concerned about a betrayal that could turn the balance. If this makes it sound like you're re-enacting Christian theological events, that may or may not be coincidence. When in doubt, put your trust in talking animals.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Okay, this is just creepy. I would never have chosen the Chronicles of Narnia to represent myself right now, but I think this meme just hit the sharpest tool on the head (not to mix metaphors). Oh well, it's not rocket surgery.

The new lantana in the back is doing well; I now have white, yellow and purple. The morning glory vine has really taken off, and we're getting lovely big purplish-blue blossoms. In the front, we put in a couple salvia plants that I just love. The next project, I think, will be some verbena in the plot under the bunny room window in back.

I just received the latest Bust mag, and tutordennis should be back with coffee and delectable pastries any minute, so I'm off to go perpetrate some evil on these Champion City people.

Comments

[cowgirlnoir.livejournal.com]

This poem, published by my friend milkdrunk in a recent entry, seems appropriate here:

Faithfully Dangerous #2: I Am Reading You, Linford Detweiler

I am reading you.
Your Annie Dillard lips,
Kerouac thighs,
Flannery feet,
Dylan Thomas eyes.

I want to open you like a Charles Dickens novel,
A Tale of Two Cities,
412 pages long
and in the superlative degree of comparison only.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter,
Ellen Foster,
Godric,
The Sonnets of Shakespeare,
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe:
I enjoyed all these.

But I am pulling the words out of you now,
the two of us a run on sentence,
warm words on the tip of your tongue
and just beneath the smooth of your skin,
verbs from slender places
and nouns like the thousand different faces you are making
and the punctuation of your heart.

I have no use for adjectives:
my imagination is beneath you.

I am reading you with closed eyes,
uneven breath,
fluttering pulse,
the short and long vowel sounds
of birds flung skyward out of my bending thoughts,
the nest we found,
the praise we made,
our hideaway,
our prepositional phrase.

I am reading you.
Hands on your dust jacket,
my acquisition,
my superbly illustrated girl
in a slightly worn binding,
each blink a handpainted portrait
recording the most important discovery
that you and I will ever make.

Royal folio,
slim octavo,
later full red crushed morocco,
raised bands,
uncut marbled endpapers,
custom cloth slipcase and chemise,
small quarto,
modern buckram,
clamshell box.

Yes.

And I am reading you
woman
like the first book of the vinegar Bible,
wondering why God so loved the world
that he gave you
to me
for these few fleet moments
to be my only begotten son,
my first real taste of everlasting life.




P.S. Also rejoiced over Bust. Is always over too soon.

So glad you're back.

[chalepa-ta-kala.livejournal.com]

Royal folio,
slim octavo,
later full red crushed morocco,
raised bands,
uncut marbled endpapers,
custom cloth slipcase and chemise,
small quarto,
modern buckram,
clamshell box.

Yes.

Mmm, erudition, sensuality, and biblical references: my favorite poetry. Punctuation of the heart, no need for adjectives, long and short vowel sounds...Thank you.

[pause4paws.livejournal.com]

Just stopping by to say hello! I'm amused by the book meme and by your reaction to it, although I have to tell you that I would quite probably react in the same way.

I think it should be called the 'Psychic Book Quiz'. =D

Tara