in verse.

No, I won't be writing this post in verse, but the subject will largely be upon that of verse--I'm sure none of you needed that clarification but look, I've gone and given it anyway.
This past weekend managed to be quite lovely in spite of the fact that I worked Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Jeremy and I made the trek to Hickory on Friday night through torrential rain to see a show at Drip's, which incidentally was my favorite teenage hangout which was since closed, then reopened under the same name though instead of being a coffee shop with occasional shows and open mic nights, is now a venue that happens to have a full espresso bar. Anyway, yet another needless clarification that I'm leaving in anyway. We arrived into Hickory a bit early so we could make a stop at our favorite public house, The Olde Hickory Taproom--Jeremy got a Scottish Ale and an Oktoberfest Seasonal beer while I got a Black Velvet (half hard cider, half Guinness). It was great to be there again, and all three of my favorite bartenders were working, which is always nice. After filling up on good beer and pub chips, we walked over to Drip's to await the start of the show. The opener, Ian Thomas, was a bit late so the start was pushed back a bit, but once he got there and everything started it was great. Ian was a folksy, bluesy, americana-esque singer, and his stuff was a lot of fun--full of guitar, harmonica, and kazoo, yes, kazoo.
Adrian Rice, Irish poet, went on next to reveal some of his newly written Hickory Haiku, that were absolutely brilliant. I've recently started reading his poetry again, since I've started to understand and appreciate poetry for this first time in my life. Let me tell you, he is phenomenal. I've known he was good, but reading poem after poem cleverly crafted and evocative in each its own way is a screaming testament to his singular talent. I feel honored to call him friend and inspiration to my own poetic aspirations. I was able to sit with him and his lovely wife Molly, and of course Peanut, to whom I look forward to meeting in person in March. It was wonderful to be able to sit with them, and catch up and just see their faces and hear their voices--it had been entirely too long. I look forward to catching up with them again soon, over Guinness and hot Irish stew.
After Adrian, the headliner, Alyn Mearns took the stage with his guitar. Beginning with his own rendition of David Bowie's Nature Boy which was merely the beginning of a beautifully poetic collage of verse and chords. One song in particular stuck with me, the words based on Napoleon's love letters to Josephine, a woman he never could conquer as all the land under his thumb. His whole set was just brilliant, and so unique. During one song, he used a wine glass to distort the sound of his guitar, sliding it up and down the strings. A tremendous talent, and a humble one too, which makes it all the better. His family, wife and kids, were all there too, which I always think is so neat to see. I was able to get a photograph of his son in the foreground with Alyn in the back, on stage, playing--I think it's a poignant shot.
Anyway, it was a great weekend, and so great to see Molly and Adrian, even with the news that my poem and short story were somehow never entered into the contest I sent them too. I've gotten over it now, and am just glad that I had to opportunity to witness such great talent in verse and music, and I hope I'll able to get Alyn and The Belfast Boys up here to Black Mountain to play at the White Horse sometime soon. I'm hoping to continue my education in poetry and shape my own poetic hand as well. Thanks for a great weekend.

Cheers,

Caitlin

delightful.

I've finally changed my background, I've been looking for quite sometime now but hadn't quite found the one that suited me just right. I quite like this one, and I shall probably stay with it for a while. Another new addition, I cut my fringe again. I thought I might grow it out, but found that I missed it ever-so-much and decided to cut it again ( I am still growing my hair out though--just not the bangs.) Hurrah.

Oh, and also my photography website is up and running again. Another hurrah. http://www.ceruleanphotography.info/

art nouveau.

Portrait of me, as would be done by Alphonse Mucha, the Moravian Art Nouveau pioneer. I'm quite enamored with it to be honest.
Go here if you want to try out some crazy face morphing fun.

autumn whispers his presence here.

I've been meaning to write for about a week now. Everytime I'm on the computer I go to my blog and sigh to myself, knowing I haven't the time to write all that I would want to. I did as much today when I sat down, but I decided that some writing is better than no writing at all--so here we are.
I'm still quite content with my job at Biltmore, and am still getting used to everything my head must contain in order to adequately perform said job, but I still love the fact that I get to work at such a richly historical place. I've been actually working inside the house for the past few days, and I absolutely love being able to do so. I get to go behind ropes and discover faster ways of getting from place to place where guests are not allowed, it's rather exciting.
I've also been quite enjoying the days that I have off. I go to work with Jeremy in the mornings at the Black Mountain Moments, and enjoy a latte made special for me by my husband, and a good read whilst taking in the usually misty mountain mornings. The eminent coming of autumn is most palpable on those mornings, particularly the misty ones that require light jacket and scarf--my long lost loves during the torrid summer. These mornings allow for peace and slowness, something not so readily available at work--except perhaps those early morning walks from my car to Biltmore house, though the times passes too quickly and I am swept away into the bustle of preparing for the day's guests. The slow mornings on the wooden porch next to my love are the days that keep me going through all the cumbersome days to follow--I look forward to my latte, book, and time to think and write that I need so badly to stay sane. I have recently taken my hand to poetry again, and trying forms on for size. I wrote a ballad for the coming autumn that I think I'll share, just to spur on the arrival of my favorite season.


Autumn Abides

Autumn whispers his presence here.
It's the smell on the crisp breeze dancing in my curls dark,
The harvest moon rising vast and bright through the halcyon sky
Hailing the brilliance of autumn before sinking to winter's stark.

The crisp grows chill as necks and arms are covered.
Mountain winds blow from the distant peaks.
Clouds shroud the valley in an otherworldly mist
Sailing deeper into autumn's boreal weeks.

Trees quiver in the chill air.
Leaves sway to autumn's musical shade.
A firelight of colors blaze in the canopy,
A flicker of beautiful death before the colors fade.

Autumn whispers his presence here.
It's the smell on the crisp breeze dancing in my curls dark,
The harvest moon rising vast and bright through the halcyon sky
Hailing the brilliance of autumn before sinking to winter's stark.

Autumn abides in this mountain valley
Colors of vermilion, sweet orange, and gold here dwell.
Regal purples join in the serenade of hues,
All vivid before ghosting to the ground in one final quell.

Evening comes here in sun and season
Deep blue colors the landscape and the mind.
Autumn's twilight arrives as Boreas blows stronger,
But my heart is bound to autumn as fast as any can find.

Autumn whispers his presence here.
It's the smell on the crisp breeze dancing in my curls dark,
The harvest moon rising vast and bright through the halcyon sky
Hailing the brilliance of autumn before sinking to winter's stark.



Breathing in Autumn's arrival,

Caitlin

creatively autumn.

Autumn is undeniably on its way, the last two days have been absolutely divine. The air is cool and crisp, and the misty mountains have greeted me each morning with otherworldly moods. It's beautiful, and it's perfect. It is days like these that make me smile, take a deep breath of mountain air, and stare wistfully at the shrouded mountains (I look a bit the idiot when I'm caught doing it, but who cares? Autumn approaches!). With that said, I have something else exciting to tell about. I've ordered some exciting fabric, and it got here the other day--I'm going to start sewing again! Actually, I already have; my current purse is breaking--the strap is tearing off, and I just made myself a new purse! I drew a sketch of it first, and decided what pieces I would need, then began cutting and sewing last night. I finished it about a half an hour ago, and though it looks nothing like the sketch I drew (hah!), it's still wonderful, and I feel so cool that I did it all by myself. It probably was not the best, nor the most efficient way of sewing a purse, but hey! I did it, don't judge me! Hurrah! Here are some super amazing photos of the new bag. :) My next project is a light jackety thing for autumn out of some really soft heather gray plaid material, which I'm really excited about--I'll probably need to pay more attention to measurements and such for this project though.