All evidence concludes that the brain and the body are intimately involved with each other. Today, as I was eating my ninth large watermelon (It is believed the fruit has a "viagra-like effect"), I witnessed two neighbours - Hans Faraway, and Constance Compass - in what can only be described as an electromagnetic clinch. His brain, and her body, danced in a "trance-like state" (not unlike Florida). Faraway's brain was wearing the large head of a donkey, with very long ears. Constance's body - which was facing north - attempted a bungee jump without the requisite elastic cord. She was last seen waving hysterically from a hot-air-balloon, and using unfamiliar sign language.
Inspiration arrives at the strangest moments. I was reading, and analyzing, Seamus Heaney's poem titled, "Bogland", and was immediately inspired to compose a poem of my own titled, "Bogland" - a short poem of seven, four-line stanzas. Not dissimilar, I agree. In fact, the first stanza commences: "We have no prairies, To slice a big sun at evening ..." I believe it's only fair to dedicate the poem to S. H.
I'm currently considering names for a short story; working title: The Laughing Hypochondriac. A character's name should proclaim his, or her, nature. I'm toying with Shirley Nott, as the male lead, and Friedrich Sniffer, as the wife, who gets drunk and reveals she is a cannibal. Friedrich is then recruited by the army with a mission to reduce troop numbers - her only weapon; a bottle of HP (Brown) Sauce. Objective: to reduce the army's basic pay, benefits, redundancy, and severance pay budgets'. I've written the end of the story first to see how long the story will be. I estimate about 60 metres, if the weather holds out.
Van Gogh's right ear has been in the news recently, and it's not talking. It's still keeping quiet about events in 1888. It's believed that Max Clifford of MCA (his Public Relations Company), has taken "the ear" on as a client. Can we expect a "front page exclusive" with a Sunday newspaper, or a TV interview with the ear?
It was originally believed the Dutch painter cut off his ear with a razor after a row with Gauguin. Van Gogh walked, hopped, or ran, to a nearby brothel, and presented the severed ear to a prostitute called Rachel. She said she would only accept money for her services, and told him to stick his ear. Where? According to observer's, she didn't elaborate. Some believe Van Gogh's right ear ran off to Milan and became a successful opera singer, and that the current ear is an impostor. The French police have announced that investigations are ongoing regarding the whereabouts of Paul Cézanne's hair; Claude Monet's beard; and Edgar Degas' nose, which hasn't been seen in Paris since 1917.
Harsh times, indeed, for connoisseurs' of the art world.
Reflections: I used to live in a "run down" area. The majority of elderly residents left as they preferred to live somewhere they could walk.
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