anyone lived in a pretty how town ... called venice

Things have been pretty hectic lately, and my morning walks have suffered. Well, TGIF, and my reward was a glorious, gorgeous morning stroll all over town. I hit the Venice Farmer's Market to get my citrus and salad fix for the week, and say hi to all the lovely locals there. I was thinking how I haven't gotten out that much and my stories have suffered as well ... and then on my way to the beach, I turned a corner on Venice Boulevard and got another reward.

e.e. cummings is one of my all-time favorite poets, and there painted on a little bungalow's fence was one of my all-time favorite e.e. cummings poems - anyone lived in a pretty how town. It could not be more charming, and could not have made my day more ...

... until I turned the corner again, and saw the triptych of lovely hand paintings that accompanied the poem.

A sand stroll was extra necessary after this, and the view from the Venice Pier this morning was breathtaking. I thought about the poem again.

It made me happy, and made me grateful that the artists and the poets of Venice are still what make it a pretty how town.

A beautiful start to a beautiful weekend for everyone who lives in our little town by the beach, and to all everywhere. Good vibes only this weekend, ok, Universe? Thanks.

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

- e.e. cummings 

Spring Fever!

We might not have the cherry blossoms in Venice, but we have these guys ...

You can feel the Spring in the step of everyone around. It's subtle here, and lacks the total relief of colder climes when the blossoms first appear ... but when the evenings get longer and the town bursts into color against skies so blue it makes your eyes hurt ... you feel it. Like in this gem, from e.e. cummings -

“sweet spring is your

time is my time is our

time for springtime is lovetime

and viva sweet love

(all the merry little birds are

flying in the floating in the

very spirits singing in

are winging in the blossoming)

lovers go and lovers come

awandering awondering

but any two are perfectly

alone there's nobody else alive

(such a sky and such a sun

i never knew and neither did you

and everybody never breathed

quite so many kinds of yes)

not a tree can count his leaves

each herself by opening

but shining who by thousands mean

only one amazing thing

(secretly adoring shyly

tiny winging darting floating

merry in the blossoming

always joyful selves are singing)

sweet spring is your

time is my time is our

time for springtime is lovetime

and viva sweet love” 

- e.e. cummings

Viva sweet love! Viva Spring! Wherever you are.

Eat Flowers

"The thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not be afraid." - e.e. cummings