“My Funny Valentine" mixed by Stéphane Pompougnac, for the Album, 'Hôtel Costes'. Writers: Richard Rodgers, Lorenz Hart for a musical comedy "Babes in Arms". (1937)
“My Funny Valentine" mixed by Stéphane Pompougnac, for the Album, 'Hôtel Costes'. Writers: Richard Rodgers, Lorenz Hart for a musical comedy "Babes in Arms". (1937)
Mission: Outward Grace
Donna being interviewed, just before Christmas, on M-Net's "Carte Blanche"
by Derek Watts and Ruda Landman, about her Pagan/Wiccan foundation,
"Circle of the African Moon".
Ever-Steady. In her famous
"Valentine Dress" she had designed and had made for our Very
First Valentine Dinner in 2008.
Donna sent me these words in an e-mail, on our second Christmas together
in 2008.
by Dorothy Lamour with the Jimmy Dorsey Orchestra
I remember you,
You're the one who made my dreams come true
A few kisses ago
I remember you
You're the one who said I love you, too, I do
Didn't you know?
I remember too a distant bell
And stars that fell like rain out of the blue
When my life is through
And the angels ask me to recall
The thrill of them all
Then I shall tell them -
I Remember You
Source: azlyrics.com
Writer: Johnny Mercer
Recorded in 1941, The music was written by Victor Schertzinger.
The poem was accompanied by a Demand!
"If you want your Christmas present - you will have to take your Shiny
Wife to the Cattle Baron Restaurant
for a Christmas dinner - and feed her her favourite steak.... xxxxxxx".
What IS a man to do?
I wrote Donna back - this piece of flow-of-thought prose.....
Yes it is so slow and slinky smoothe I promise each day will be Valentines
day. I promise if you stay in my life.
Ah the slow tinkle of music rising to dance in the warm evening by the
sea… I can see the night will provide all the gifts her lilting Egyptian, Nefertiti
mouth whispers to
me . . . and we dance . . . Where does love begin . . . in the taste
of a kiss the color of the sea . . .
near where I lived and want to live again
with the one that has always filled my heart.
She filled my soul with enough love to last me all my life. How long it
has lasted. aah . . .
It is morning I watch the movement of dreams on the slick café side walks
of my ocean city... She tells me all sorts of little meaningless things.
That are neither important nor comprehensible. All I can hear is her voice
and it the music of my soul. I slide and swirl through her words down her
throat to her heart. Listen to its rhythyms... I really don’t know what
she is talking about, but I do know that I know her through her voice….
A little faster thru the traffic
rush. stop. rush. stop. brakes. red light green light. We are always in
a hurry to go some where to relax. Race thru this chaos to get to paradise...
The paradiddle off the bongos coincides with the swing to over take on
the free-way and as we cruise thru the underpass and on to the open beach
road I realize that I am driving us to craziness.
Light another cigarette and speak in secret alphabets.
And I know that we are the party. Hot heated hot... I think I am suffering
from radiation sickness caused by the heat from her physique. And when
I talk to her I observe that she melts a little more. Melting right out
of that print floral dress... the big red hibiscuses are trailing off the
fabric and out of the window leaving a trail of red smears across the smooth
cyan dome of heaven...
No. I DO know her name – I mean the NAME she calls herself. THAT NAME.
The one I want to carve on a palm tree some where on this beach of for-ever.
Seven - As the tabla begins to play in the cool evening breeze,
and the sound of the flutes rise into the dark blue, I take one deep breath
... ... ... watch her dance. “Rapida, rapida, rapida…”
Nine - she rises out of the sand…and I begin to sing her praise…
Are there not enough words to describe her ineffable beauty. Is there not
enough blood in my heart to ring the bell of heaven? Enough air in my lungs
to rend the stars out of their vault. For at each turn she fixes me with
her stare, as steady and piercing. Demanding, beseeching, begging me not
to stop my exultation of her fluid dance of Kali in the flames of her own
desire.
Ten – Cool early morning… There are not the words. Except The
Word. The snake charmer flute she slides down, and I sing that song of
a thousand days of watching her slide. It is all a dream. Only a dream?
A dream coming true or reality fading into a dream. I cannot be sure except
that I do not want for it to ever stop.
Eleven – ah my Little Snake of Isis. What could any man want
more than to feel the silk of your touch? Cool and hot at the same time.
I am breathless for you. When you sing to me…sing to me… sing to…sing…
sing... jussssssst... .aaaH!
Twelve – Back to reality oh no! No ! The drive is back. Get
dressed baby we are going out!
Oh my, my... Oh Hell Yes! Honey put on that Valentine Dress...!
My Christmas card to Donna was a Valentine card. LOL. I wrote
"I promise if you stay in my life...Every Day will be Valentine's day"
And we slow-tango-waltzed to this song on Christmas morning.
Being a Graphic Designer has its Benefits.
My second Christmas card to Donna was also a Valentine Card, which was
occassion for much thrilled laughter, and hugging and kissing.
