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All I needed was a blog

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As I begin a novel I remind myself as ever of Camus’s admonition that the purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself. And even while thinking, well, fat chance! I find courage, reach for the heights, and if the rock keeps rolling down again so it does. What the hell, start again. Rewrite. Be of good cheer. Smile on, Sisyphus! _Faye Weldon, Writer

When I opened my Blog this morning, what a surprise! look a this award below:

6 Year Anniversary Achievement
Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com!
You registered on WordPress.com 6 years ago.
Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.
Isn’t refreshing?
So, thank you WordPress team fist, for hosting my blog gracefully for the longest and for all your support during this wonderful journey of writing. And  thank you dear reader, the loyal, and the passer-by as well for stopping by.
I smiled at the sole quote above from the writer Faye Weldon that came well àpropos in an email to me, as well, for from WPress team.
 I had no fat chance, ever 6 years ago. i just started a blog, with a vain idea.
It happened that I wrote sometimes a couple of months ago a post, blogging about the writer Albert Camus”s admonition that purpose the writer to keep civilization from lost of its memories, remember the time back to Neolithic era, when writing was not yet created, only left with some carved painting on stones and caves (The Grote of Lascaux) and the punishment of Sisyphus by the Gods of Olympus, the rolling rock, and the encouraging  the team to me, to keep on writing.
At the beginning, it was a chimeric idea that came from a Daily prompt: Imagine an a special holiday, and it was the first day of spring, and as I just came back from Algiers, Algeria, I had in my mind a thought about the goldfinch_it’s a national pet out there, don’t be surprised. The thing is, it became an endangered species, and although it is protected, thanks to the environmental authorities, it is still targeted and captured by aficionados and smugglers.
So, I just hold on that thought, and  post my first blog in gibberish languages some sort, in the hope to grab the attention of a passer-by reader hopefully from Algiers.
Recently, I saw on YouTube that young people out there started by launching individually a campaign to free the caged  bird, I felt that somehow, and somewhere I wasn’t so vain.
That we come to think about a main subject, at the same time, in any part of the world, of common issues. Sisyphus, is still calling, although from a vale that had no echo. we just keep blogging,  right? write…
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home,Unveiled

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Unexpected imaginary encounter with William LangewiescheBooks & Authors

The  Physics of Blowen Sands

To the longing for a home, not as an unspeakable grief or rage they carry in them , but merely as in their acceptance of the odds, by having fate in a better morrow. As they travel to where their camel leads them, in their pursuit of such moments of happiness gone by, a mirage of such tremendous wisp, to never give up on labor, and without a home where to cease from strife, as the day ends, The Men in Blue of the Sahara desert, whither they bake under it their bread, they make their bed of sands, and then in the night, under the sheltering sky’s,  to make from the dust of the stars a blanket, a cover to rest, and sleep to a single dream, with an image in it, a home retaken from the sands; what is real in their life fines itself down.

The Sahara is like a woman unveiled, and because of that,  the men of the desert;  while they walk with pride, and loftiness  in their pace, they always humble themselves,  to cover their face before it.

Original, below:

Expert from: Sahara unveiled A Journey Across the Desert

Unveiled2

But your house is your heritage, and you would like somehow to preserve it. As the dunes bear down on it they will collapse the walls. The defense is again the Saharan acceptance of destiny: having lost the fight against the sand, you must now invite it in. Sleeping on the sand, covering your floors with it for all these years, helped prepare you mentally. But shoveling in the sand is not enough. Your last act is to break out the windows, take off the doors, and knock holes in the roof. You allow the wind to work for you. If it succeeds, and fills your house, the walls will stand. Then in a hundred years, when the wind requires it, the dunes will drift on and uncover the village. Your descendants will bless God and his Prophet. They will not care that you were thin and poor and had no work. They will remember you as a man at peace with his world. The desert takes away but also delivers.

Well-Read Women

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In reading this post, Today, my thoughts goes to my mother first, and the four other women in my life, My Wife, my three daughters , and my sister, whom are so faraway

yadadarcyyada

1read4

“I’ll think about it tomorrow, after all, tomorrow is another day.”
Margaret Mitchell may have written the words of Gone With The Wind, but it’s Scarlett O’Hara we think of when we read or hear them.1read3

Elizabeth Bennet      Anne Shirley      Daisy Buchanan
   Auntie Mame      Catherine Earnshaw      Nancy Drew
Holly Golightly      Dorothy Gale      Jo March      Cosette
Jane Eyre       Juliet Capulet      Nora Charles       Charlotte
Blanche Dubois     Pecola      Alice      Daisy Miller      Lily Bart
Becky Sharp      Mary Lennox       Emma Woodhouse

We’ve had tea and coffee with these women.

Ate ice cream and chocolate with these women.

Even taken baths with these women.IM000471.JPG

Stretched out under a tree with these women.

Flew with these women.

Drank with these women.

Dreamed of being these women.

View original post 228 more words

A sailor|if I have a hammer|prompts of the day

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Echoes of Sinbad the sailor: Flickr photo of the day

If I have a hammer
I would be a carpenter,
and I would be an Art-painter
I'll build a boat,and I'll trace route
If I have a hammer
I would be a sailor,
I'll say then lo,
and I'll pray,Oh! Lord! 
I have pain in my heart to sooth

I would have astrolabe, Sextan,and compasses 
maps, and routes I'll  draw, as hour passes
So, I'll throw off the bowlines behind, and go asea,
and see people, and things I would never see
I would be a skipper, I got
urgent desire, a heart on dire to see the seven seas_
"Les Îles Marquises,
le ciel est bleu la mer est grise."
Then, I would reconcile my heart
with  that old dream of mine,
I had once ago, when I was a kid of nine.
That's would be it, a state-of-mind, and art?

Then, I'll  say cheers to all the tears, and all the fears, 
and all the dreams, loves and friends left, behind.
That, shall I have  a toast with a glass of wine

Then, I can sing Brel,
and I  draw like Gauguin 
With peace in mind

https://kmlkoubablog.wordpress.com/2014/04/25/just-to-make-this-dock-my-home/

 

just to make this dock my home

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petescully

SF Balclutha
Recently I took a couple of days in San Francisco, the City by the Bay. I know lots of other cities are by bays as well (and this isn’t even the only city by this bay, nor the biggest), but when we talk about the City by the Bay we mean only one place. Anyway, to San Francisco I came, not to sit here resting my bones as such but to draw furiously, and draw furiously I did. After this one, anyhow, which was drawn calmly, peacefully and without any fury at all. It is lovely down there by the water’s edge, listening to the tide as it rolls away. I was blessed with a beautiful warm day (I always get weather-lucky in the city), the day before a huge storm washed away any doubters. I didn’t fancy sketching the mania of Fisherman’s Wharf much, and considered going out to…

View original post 310 more words

high time for chocolate

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petescully

SF Ghirardelli Square
Here’s another from San Francisco. After sketching the Balclutha , I stood on the corner of Beach and Larkin to sketch the sloping view up to Ghirardelli Square . You’ll know Ghirardelli as a famous chocolatier, and they do make really nice choccies. I even treated myself to a delicious hot fudge brownie sundae after this drawing, setting me back a cool $10 but ermagerd, it was good, so good. This place is on the U.S. National Register of Historic Places. I coloured this in later – I had stood there long enough, and there were plenty more things to draw. I also added a map into my sketchbook showing the locations of my sketches so far – there it is below. You will see a lot more of these maps from now on, as I have decided to paint little maps accompanying my pages. Let’s see how long that…

View original post 21 more words

A writer! Yeah, right..!|Make me smile

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Make me smile

A writer!

 

What? A Writer!…

 

Yeah, right!

You kidding me, yeah right!

 

“Yeah, right! Make me smile!”

When I feel like  I’m blah, or sometimes I have a lack of inspiration, I go to see my friend Bob The cat, at the alley cats next door. He comes always at a certain time of the day to the entry of my building, I usually find him at the threshold of the door,  early in the morning on my way to work or in late afternoon, at five when back home. So we said hi and often I asked him what’s   the weather today, and or the news of the neighborhood, according of the moment. This day, as he didn’t come, so I swung by the alley cat for a small talk, he left his friends just as he saw me and came to meet me half-way. After purrs and hi, I told him that I envisage to become a writer; so now you know the answer.

Ps: Morality; we only have the muse that we can afford.

for the weather forecast, see below

No snow today

No snow today

 

 

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