“Dorothy was at the sideboard, breaking eggs and spilling them into a bowl. Just watching the oval things crack in her white fingers and spill forth with a golden plop created a series of small explosions inside me. My calves shuddered as she scrambled them with a fork and they turned yellow like her hair. She poured a bit of cream into the mixture and the silken smoothness of the descending cream had me reeling. I wanted to say, ‘Dorothy Parrish, I love you’, to take her in my arms, to lift the bowl of scrambled eggs above our heads and pour it over our bodies, to roll on the red tiles with her, smeared with the conquest of eggs, squirming and slithering in the yellow of love”.
from 1933 Was A Bad Year by John Fante
mandala drawing and photography by clinock
Simply beautiful
Thank you for your kind words
You’re welcome!
“Nature’s first green is gold. Her hardest hue to hold …” I can hear Frost’s gravely voice when I think it. And Dorothy followed the yellow brick road. Fine poetry, such as your “Spring — Resistance is Futile!” is strong image insight for our thought journey … so, thank you, John.
Always lovely to read your thoughtful and poetic comments Bonnie, and thanks to you for your visit and inspiration.
Your beautiful drawing and the photography are knockouts, John. I am really intrigued with the ring of river rock around the tree trunk! And I am a Tom Waits fan…so bulls eye on three fronts, John! 🙂 I enthusiastically welcome spring each year, and really enjoy seeing the season make appearances in climates and locations so different from what I know. Lovely!
A Hat Trick, YAY! The rocks and the tree are in love, with a hey nonny-nonny…
I appreciate your generous words and your visit very much Debra