Rainbow Bridge

I"ll try to stick to my mission statement but I will admit there's

been way too much else to stand in the way of frippery.

Lots of sadness in and around the traps.

Massive earthquake in Nepal.

Two Australians executed alongside six others in Indonesia.

Lots of rigour at the chalkface.

 And, finally the house-muse is no more.

Here he is in better days, just sleeping.
After a bedtime story.

Last week the house-muse retired to the biggest poodle parlour in heaven.

Over the Rainbow Bridge.

That lovely soft euphemism that includes all pets

returning to their healthy state, trotting around with butterflies and birds.

Thank you for your kind thoughts.

I have been sad for days.

He was my constant for sixteen years and never disagreed with

a thing I said.

I liked him.
Nature permitted him nearly 18 years in total.

I went against good advice and gave my heart to a dog to tear.

It'll mend slowly.
I'll let it take its sweet time.

 Meanwhile, I finished off an orchid inspired and feather leaf headpiece.
Keeping occupied.
Thanks to the stunning blooms at the Orchid Society's Species Show.

 

 

 

 

The Power of the Dog

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 to 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-term 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?

Rudyard Kipling



 

 This has always been one of my favourite portraits, Coco Chanel

with a cream coloured poodle, by Impressionist Marie Laurencin.

 



 



Too Much is Never Enough

 I've been working on this pretty pink frippery where too much is never enough,

then I packed up to go to Brisbane Baroque 2015.

Don't click away because you are about to meet mezzo-soprano

Elizabeth Lewis.

You will be smitten.

She is the loveliest.

  

 I shut up the House of Flora last week and traipsed out with Mr Fascinata to enjoy Dido and Aeneas

part of the Brisbane Baroque music festival.

I would be lying if I said I didn't love it.

With the stunning mezzo-soprano Elizabeth Lewis

who played poor old Dido the Queen of Carthages.
The story is thin on the ground with me, so if you beg to differ, please do.

Dido was overlooked by that Trojan hero Aeneas and some witches cause all sorts of frippery.
At one stage I thought I heard them sing, 'crocodile'.

That's about all I could understand.
The acoustics were brilliant, it was my heathen ears.

The venue was City Hall.

That I do know.

 In keeping with the Italian theme we had a Prosecco before-hand.

 City Hall's lovely façade had its banners billowing.

 Brisbane Baroque.

 Every thing is a weird shade of blue under the dome's arch.

 

 Here's Elizabeth being harassed by the so-called witches.

 And at the end, bereft and distraught.

Full-scale frippery.

 We waited a bit for Elizabeth Lewis outside the stage-door

because I really wanted a photograph with her.

Elizabeth sang at our Wedding.
Here she is at the 'do back in 2011.

 She sang three songs: Ave Maria, Panus Angelicus and It's a Wonderful World.

If you know a mezzo-soprano I highly recommend this treat.

You won't be sorry.
While waiting I took artistic license, telling Mr Fascinata we were doing a fashion-shoot

for Architectural Digest and he obliged accordingly to pass the time.

 

Here's Elizabeth's details.
You better get in quick.
She is in Melbourne at the moment studying with Opera Victoria.

Apart from sitting through a Baroque opera
I am about to re-read Dale Carnegie's book, "How to Stop
Worrying, and Start Living'.
Written in the 1950s.
I had to re-read the dead dog analogy a few times but it does make sense.

There's also another anecdote about how a man de-stressed by watching his wife do the dishes
on a regular basis.
I know.
How are you getting on?
Is too much, too much?
Or, just enough?