Comments for metonymicalpen

Comment on Where O Where Has Metopen Been? by dplblog

dplblog — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 14:06:28 +0000

If there ever is an uninspiring place for ideas, it’s a hospital. Good luck getting through these latest of life’s reminders.

Comment on Where O Where Has Metopen Been? by JC

JC — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 06:33:21 +0000

Hope life mellows out a bit for you. In the meantime, keep painting. They’re lovely.

Comment on Academic Notebook by World Literature: The Street of Crocodiles by Bruno Schulz « The Good Read

World Literature: The Street of Crocodiles by Bruno Schulz « The Good Read — Tue, 10 Apr 2012 06:08:36 +0000

[...] of Interest: The Art of Bruno Schulz, Review of Schulz at Metonymical Pen, schulzian.net, 92Y at [...]

Comment on While I Write, My Dog Waits for Me by becomingamazon

becomingamazon — Sun, 25 Mar 2012 21:40:03 +0000

Oh, I love you. And here I am….sneakily avoiding my own deadlines by using the excuse that my writer friends are sitting out there, just in case someone happens to read them, tails wagging and waiting for acknowledgement. So here is your firm rub down, the caress to your head and kiss on the nose. I see you. We are all dogs, waiting and loyal for someone to be ready for us……
and off I go back to my own computer writing, and waiting too.

Comment on 1,000 Days by metonymicalpen

metonymicalpen — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 16:47:30 +0000

I am not suggesting that making an equation for life events (or thinking about Dylan Thomas while driving) is healthy. Stop that.

Comment on 1,000 Days by judith

judith — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 16:42:46 +0000

There are two stories you know well, one where I couldn’t wait to be taken outside the next time so I could play with that wonderful, cool, white stuff I got every time I went outside…and when I finally was taken outside and put on my blanket, it was gone. All I could find was my leg. And on 10th Street, after a winter of sickness, waiting so eagerly for warm weather so I could go outside (always wanting to get OUT, right) and sit in the tall, tall grass and smell its special smell. This time I went in crying to mom, ‘our grass is dead.’ It wasn’t; it was green and lush. It just wasn’t my old grass, almost as tall as the trees. Like your memories of change, these are bittersweet as I think of the experiences. But other, not better but different experiences took their place. Like getting you. And then getting her. I am at the point where I sometimes think, and you hate this, how many days? Probably more than 1000. But 3000? Or 6000? Maybe. Or not. We have our work cut out for us, huh?

Comment on Love, Writing & Jerusalem Artichokes by judith

judith — Tue, 06 Mar 2012 01:17:21 +0000

This is the last thing I will share on the subject… of Jerusalem artichokes, not metaphors.

From Gerard’s Herbal, printed in 1621, quotes the English planter John Goodyer on Jerusalem artichokes:

“which way soever they be dressed and eaten, they stir and cause a filthy loathsome stinking wind within the body, thereby causing the belly to be pained and tormented, and are a meat more fit for swine than men.”

Comment on Love, Writing & Jerusalem Artichokes by metonymicalpen

metonymicalpen — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 16:05:08 +0000

I stand by my assessment. Both metaphorical and gastric.

Comment on Love, Writing & Jerusalem Artichokes by judith

judith — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 13:19:50 +0000

Alvis moved to Brownwood from a Navy base in Mass. for the sole purpose of growing, and becoming very wealthy from growing, Jerusalem artichokes. He had fields of them. And I learned to cook them in various ways. They can be rendered quite tasty, in the right hands. And I’m sure the terroir has something to do with it, also. I think that imperfect metaphor holds.

Comment on Love, Writing & Jerusalem Artichokes by becomingamazon

becomingamazon — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 06:59:52 +0000

This was an amazing post – I LOVED it (even if you used words too big for my small brain lacking wine at this late hour of the night). You captured the mealtime fiasco to perfection…..and yes, we did learn to endure the truth – not only in our food, but in ourselves. For a few of us, this was an opportunity to fast from nonsense and come to a deeper commitment to our highest selves….and to leave less weighty for it.