Cold feet, warm heart . . .
It's the Moon's day … and Northerlies continue to bring a chill to the morning walk to the mailbox here in TulseyTown which was filled with love letters.
Gillian Anderson, the award-winning film, television, and theatre actor, an activist and mother, has published a best seller: Want: submtted by anonoymous (Random House, 2024). The book is a collection of anonymous letters regarding sexuality and circumstance from women who responded to an open public invitation. A recent interview published in Maria Shriver's Sunday Paper ( 10.13.24 ) explored Anderson's motives and responses to the publication.
Close held concerns of men are also the topic of this Huffpost item this morning.
Celine Dion's “L'hymne a L'amour”
They told her she’d never sing again.
Edith Piaf wrote the lyrics and bared her soul in song for the love of her life, who was killed in a plane crash. Celine Dion took on Piaf's pain, added the loss of her own soulmate, along w/ the agony of an excruciatingly painful, incurable illness and gave us this exhilarating, life-affirming masterpiece. Pain, you'd better leave this woman alone, she outclassed you in every way. – adapted from notes posted with Dion's “L'hymne a L'amour” at the 2024 Paris Olympics. I will probably post this many times. As long as time may allow, I will allow.
The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along. – Rumi
The Way
The Way, the is-ness of things
“is” as water flows.
Water flows in one direction.
Its direction.
— jab