weialala leia!

[ontology]

So, I've realised an interesting fact about myself. Most of you will probably not be surprised.

When I enter a new fandom, or am rediscovering an old one, I attempt to connect it to Eliot somehow. Um, yes. While I was waiting to get sleepy last night, I paged through my Complete Eliot and decided that Angel (so far the most likely candidate for Elioting) might find certain passages of Ash-Wednesday and The Hollow Men rather apt. A bit of Rhapsody on a Windy Night, too. Um, yes. I have a feeling it is too late; therapy cannot do me any good now. (But just look at them, will you? I mean really.) And hey,

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

-- reminds me of Simon Tam rather a lot. Oh dear. I haven't really found anyone in any fandom who suits The Waste Land, although I can see River quoting:

A woman drew her long black hair out tight     
And fiddled whisper music on those strings     
And bats with baby faces in the violet light     
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a blackened wall     
And upside down in air were towers     
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours     
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

And most of you lot know that T.S. Eliot is Remus Lupin's favourite poet. (Shut up. He is. Look at Preludes! And Prufrock! They were practically written about him! And, um, I actually possess about half a draft of an entire Remus-fic based on Rhapsody on a Windy Night. Yes.) And that Four Quartets was written after Mr Eliot took a spin in the TARDIS (definitely post-Time War, because there are references all over the place). And ressie_noldo and I decided once that the Weialala Leia are an alien race, but that's beside the point.

So, this is Banui's brain on, er, madness. Yes. Going away now.

(Stuff about Life later, maybe. I've been having a few days half-out of the world, which is nice, but I also feel about three times as absent-minded as usual, and I've always been terrifically absent-minded.)

Comments

[take-a-sadsong.livejournal.com]

I'm going to find a book of T.S. Eliot poems. somewhere. at the library. I will.

And I do the same thing, but with Bliss Carman poetry. His poems don't fit people as much as much as it does events in time, and random feelings.

I really need to sit down and write poetry. I used to so much when I was little, but now I feel like everything comes out really cliched. I'm realizing more and more that sometimes editing poetry and working on a poem for months doesn't necessarily mean I'm cramping creativity. I hate editing though. bahh. >_<

I should actually try writing fanfiction. I don't really know what I'd write it of, except for Narnia. I WANT TO MAKE A NARNIA FANMIX SO BAD BUT I DON'T HAVE CD BURNING SOFTWARE AUGH. >_<

Oh, and I've been wanting to call you, but I don't know when it's a good time. I hate calling people when they're eating dinner or something. When is your day usually telephone-friendly? :D

[oh, and, for the extremely little I know about Lupin (since reading HP is off-limits, but I've seen the first three movies), he does seem a great deal like Prufrock! ♥]

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

It shouldn't be terribly difficult. ^-^ Even my library's got a Complete Eliot, and it's...fairly pathetic, as poetry goes. (It's got some pretty first- or second-editions of Millay's poems, though, which I adore for the sheer gorgeousness of the books and would even if I didn't love the poetry in them.)

I really need to sit down and write poetry. I used to so much when I was little, but now I feel like everything comes out really cliche.

Ugh, me too. I have so much difficulty with poetry, although it's getting better now that I'm forcing myself to try not to be too -- metaphory. Because I'm not good enough at it yet. I had -- have -- so much hideously pretentious poetry it makes me want to hide my head in shame. So I'm reading people like William Carlos Williams, who writes these exquisitely simple poems, like

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

-- and some more involved but still minimalistic poetry, and it's actually much harder than it looks (which is the beauty of it, I suppose.) Anyway, it's helping a bit. But I still produce approximately one poem every three months or so, give or take a little. Sigh. And yep, editing is NOT MY FRIEND. Poetry is so spontaneous, and there's this crazy fine line between sucking the soul of the spontaneity out of it and yet improving on the original idea. Argh.

Um. Calling. Let me see. You're in California, yes? I can't remember time zones very well, but I have this awesome feature on my iPod now so I can add time zones to my clock -- scroll through and it's got the Pittsburgh time (nearest big city to me), and currently I've got London and Alaska, I think. Anyway. I'm home most of the day -- well, no, actually lately I've been over at Alessandra's a lot, which is weird for me because I've never really had a social life before at all. But I'm still home a lot. Mondays I've a guitar lesson at three, and I'm usually gone for an hour or two afterwards running errands with Mum. Sunday mornings are church, of course -- Sunday's a really good day, actually; we usually stay home and relax and my parents nap and sometimes we watch a film or play a game in the evenings but mostly it's pretty predictable that we'll be home. If you call after about one thirty we should be finished with lunch. (We have a big family lunch on Sundays and just eat on our own for dinner, unlike the rest of the week.) It's probably best to call after twoish most days on account of school. Saturday is probably the only really bad day, though; I spend most of it at the library and the candy shop and hanging out with whichever friends come to the library with me most of the evening. ^-^ (Again, WEIRD STUFF. But a good weird.)

[take-a-sadsong.livejournal.com]

I'll definitely be looking for a complete collection of Eliot. Probably tonight, actually, since I ordered a book and a DVD from the library, and it's always fun to get a bunch of library books at once, and also it saves on gas.

Ahh, every three months? I don't think I've written a poem in over two years. I don't know what's wrong with me; these past two years have flown by, and I feel like I haven't accomplished anything. I used to make graphics and write and do things, and now I don't really do anything but read things online and talk to people. I really need to go back to icon making. I always enjoyed that so much.

Ah! :P Actually I live in Florida. Which is better than California, I think. Cali still seems like it's out in the middle of nowhere, you know? Okay, so I'm obviously biased to the east coast, but you know. WE WERE DISCOVERED FIRST. XD Anyway, I might try calling you tomorrow (which would be Monday, later on in the afternoon/evening), if theater class doesn't drain my blood. xD

Oh! And I just emailed you the most epic email ever, with gigantic blocks of text that will probably make your eyes burn. ^_^ So if you get a minute, you should read it. XD

[suangelita.livejournal.com]

If it makes you feel any better, I never had a social life until now. Leastaways not one that wasn't Internet Only, type thing. And you didn't answer last night when I called. I was majorly depressing and I don't even know why. Well, I sort of do.

And I'm craving chocolate... and it's not fair because I *do* have chocolate in the room, but it's *supposed* to be for my fiancé for Valentine's Day... >_>

The point of this is to say... are you doing anything this afternoon/evening after your guitar lesson? (other than writing my letter *winkwinknudgenudgesaynomore*)

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

Aww, I'm sorry. My parents tend to have the answering machine pick up a lot to screen the call, as it were, since we don't have caller ID or anything of the sort. If you ever call and get the answering machine and it's pretty logical that I should be around, just leave a message -- we might be listening. :)

Don't eat Roberto's chocolate! *smacks hand* Argh, I really need to make more cookies. My family managed to eat almost all of the ones I made WHILE I WAS OUT WITH YOU. There were approximately six left when I came home. :p

I would say, we should totally stock up at Hockman's next Saturday so that it'll last a while, but you know what? IT WON'T LAST. The more we buy, the more we'll eat, is all.

My plans for this afternoon and evening involve reading up on mythological beings, writing your letter, watching Giles don a fringed sombrero and Buffy and Spike plan their wedding, Angel swooping around in a black leather coat woven of pure awesome whilst having his life narrated by Spike, listening to you tell Roberto about your new plans for the wedding, peering at bits of Star Trek in Romanian, and writhing around on the floor laughing until I am no longer capable of breath or dignity.

That was oddly prescient... ^-^