photography

Living Out Loud

/ Janna Hill / 5 Comments

A bit about the East Texas Book Fest last weekend and then I must get back to writing.


The meet and greet at the Potpourri House Friday evening was entertaining to say the least. Kim and I, myself and Kim, Kim and me (all six of us) found ourselves seated with a journalist, a professor and an adorable retired engineer that had written his first book. The seating was not prearranged, that’s just how it happened. We didn’t mingle much past that due to being inebriated time constraints.

Take 2 cards and call me in the morning.

We barely made it to the book fest on time. Puffy eyed and sleep deprived but on time. We were so excited!
It took all of 30 seconds to arrange our tiny display, say hi to a few folks. ..

Then we were off to check out the festivities. There were authors out the wazoo, writers of everything imaginable, artists and a few esteemed educators but this really grabbed my attention.

Forensic sculptor Amanda Danning was so gracious. Despite our interrupting her lunch, she shared her talent and knowledge with such passion. Between bites of ham and cheese (or was it turkey?) she explained the process of facial reconstruction while her husband narrated the history behind each work of art. They are both amazing.

So all in all I would say the East Texas Book Fest was a success. Will it boost sales? I do not have a clue and you know what? I’m okay with that.  After all, I’m just living out loud and flinging cake against the wall.

A Little Visit to The Big Easy

/ Janna Hill / 12 Comments

Update on my hiatus.

It had been more than a few years since I visited the Big Easy so it was time to  see how she’d changed and stir up a bit of nostalgia and a ghost or two.

After a brief run through the French Quarter and down to Jackson Square [I was on a tight schedule] I must say from what I saw not much has changed. Unless you count the ramp up in police presence. I’ve never seen so many officers of the law in one place – it was kind of scary.

I didn’t have any warrants under my current name so I was like what the heck, let’s party. And we did.

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You just don’t know how close I was to taking a ride on this adorable  pony. I would have too if that nosy NOPD mounted officer hadn’t threatened to give me a ride to the jailhouse. I stepped up in the stirrup and said okay, lets ride.  He called a state trooper in an SUV. My loyal companions intervened and we ran.

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We laid down on the street, pretended to be passed out and they rode right past us. We’re so clever.

One Is Never Enough

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

I was recently introduced to this lovely poem written by “the people’s poet” with a question attached, “If you could ask Robert Service one question what would it be?”

Fisherfolk

By Robert William Service (January 16, 1874 – September 11, 1958)

 

I like to look at fishermen
And often times I wish
One would be lucky now and then
And catch a little fish.
I watch them statuesquely stand,
And at the water look;
But if they pull their float to land
It’s just to bait a hook.

I ponder the psychology
That roots them in their place;
And wonder at the calm I see
In ever angler’s face.
There is such patience in their eyes,
Beside the river’s brink;
And waiting for a bite or rise
I do not think they think.

Or else they are just gentle men,
Who love–they know not why,
Greeen grace of trees or water when
It wimples to the sky . . .
Sweet simple souls! As vain I watch
My heart to you is kind:
Most precious prize of all you catch,
–Just Peace of Mind.

 

 

My answer, “Is greeen really spelled with three e’s?”  (Apparently yes. You can see for yourself here, here and here.) And then I would insist he tell me about his most inspiring travels. One question is never enough.

 

An Affair of the Heart

/ Janna Hill / 4 Comments

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This photo is fresh from the holiday so how about a Rudyard to go with it?

I realize we have already looked at Kipling but I sort of have a crush on him right now. It’s just a spring fling sort of thing that [I hope] will soon pass.

Surely when April is gone I’ll forget him. Until then I only need to remind myself that I am married and he is dead. This will have to be an affair of the heart. I just hope he understands.

Sooo. Back to NPM.
You don’t have to be a dog lover to appreciate this but if you are a dog lover… well just read the darn poem.

 

 

The Power of the Dog

by Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie–
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find–it’s your own affair–
But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!).
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone–wherever it goes–for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long–
So why in–Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?