Tag: blurtso

“Blurts loses control”

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I can’t stop thinking about a jenny I saw at school yesterday. I saw her once, passing on the lawn, and I can’t get her out of my mind. I wonder who she is? I wonder if she’s a student? It’s exciting to think of her, but it’s tiresome, because there are so many other things to think of. But no matter what I do, all I can think of is her. And I don’t even know who she is. I’ve seen other jennies, here and there, and now and then, but none like her. I’m dying to keep thinking of her, but wish I could stop. I’ve been here all day, while the hours passed, with the birds and the trees and the shadows and sounds, and I haven’t seen a thing, not a single thing, because I can’t stop thinking of a jenny I saw once, and may never see again. It’s times like this that make me wonder… if any of us have control over anything we do.

“Blurtso and Alex take tea”

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I am mortified, said Blurtso. What? said Alex. Poor Jane, said Blurtso, and poor Mister Bingley. Who? said Alex. I never saw a more promising inclination, said Blurtso, he had grown quite inattentive toward other people, and is not general incivility the very essence of love? What? said Alex. I am mortified, said Blurtso, I am humbled, I am grieved, and hope against hope that Wickam and Lydia will be married. I have been so ungenerous to Mister Darcy, and now we owe the restoration of everything to him. What on earth are you talking about? said Alex. And what’s that book you’re reading? It’s Pride and Prejudice, said Blurtso, by Jane Austen. Oh, said Alex. You are too generous to trifle with me, said Blurtso, if you will take another cup of tea, please, tell me at once. Another cup? said Alex. Why yes, I shall accept your offer, with gratitude and pleasure.

“Blurtso forgets to remember”

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I wish I could remember, said Blurtso, trying to remember what it was he wanted to remember. It must be here somewhere, in my brain, ears, eyes, hoofs, or smell. It must be something important. Blurtso looked at the grass in front of his nose and took a bite. Mmmm, he thought, remembering how good grass tastes in the early morning on a spring day. Mmmm, he thought, taking another bite and forgetting that he was trying to remember. Now I remember! he said, running off to meet the others who had remembered to remember.

“Bonny and Ditto share some quality time” (XVII)

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The art of painting, said Bonny, is to capture one of life’s moments on canvas. The art of living is to let those moments go.

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Excellent!

“Ditto thinks of a leaf”

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Hmmm, thought Ditto, would you look at that… a leaf caught in the stream. Wavering on the water, pushed against a stone. It’s a dry leaf, yellow and crinkly. I wonder how long it will remain here, softly battering the stone? I wonder what will become of it when I’m gone? I wonder if it will miss me? I wonder if I will think of it at night when I’m home? I wonder if it will still be here, softly battering the stone?

“Blurtso slips into stone”

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Watch Blurtso slip into stone on Youtube

Into stone people come and go, slaves of Michelangelo…
Artist carved a brand new beauty, polished it and made it clean,
but now the stones are rough and the artist’s dust
and the statue’s going home, slipping back, slipping into stone.

Into stone people come and go, slaves of Michelangelo…
Mommy has a brand new baby, dress him up and keep him clean,
but the years will reach him, and time will teach him,
tear him down ‘fore he’s full grown, leaving him slipping into stone.

Into stone people come and go, slaves of Michelangelo…
So you think you’re doing fine, think that you have got it made,
but the music’s slowing, you can hear it going,
like a long forgotten poem, like the faces in the foam,
and all the places you’ve ever known, they’re slipping into stone.

Into stone people come and go, slaves of Michelangelo…
You can’t run, you can’t hide, doesn’t matter
if you’re nice or if you’re mean, midnight walking,
all-night talking, there ain’t no stopping going home,
‘cause you and me, we’re slipping, slipping into stone.