Lucy Simpson's Open Salon Blog

Off of OS Permanently - Goodbye

Sun, 6 Jan 2013 10:01:27 -0500

Here are my reasons for departing:

the fact that editors can't get on my site

the fact that I can't get on to read my favorite bloggers

the fact that there is not enough art on this site -visually it is pretty blah, save for a few photographers

So adieu, just Google me and you can probably find me somewhere in the netsphere. I will do the same.

Lucy,bidding you all a fond farewell

Iphigenia in the Hotel Laundry/ A Ghazal

Thu, 29 Nov 2012 08:11:30 -0500

Sin of my father stains sheets,
binding me in death-pains sheets.

Sky today bleeds peach cloth
as girls bleach out stains in sheets.

Cracked hands awaken to ache,
imprisoned in wet plain sheets.

Burned, scraped and cut, our skin is,
we fold paper cranes in sheets.

A thousand perfect bright clouds,
as the skin peels, drains the sheets.

As I plunge into the pail,
stings my arm veins with sheets.

So like the harsh salt water,
we sing sea song refrains, sheets.

Not loved enough by father,
but bound with horse reins and sheets.

His vessel home, my sweet corpse,
my brain’s disrupted lanes, sheets.

Winding my own starched white shroud,
purgatory’s remains, sheets.

The sky outside peels raw too
through windows’ Plexiglas sheets.

A woman laughs in the raw,
rattling of her chains, damp sheets.

I am still aboard father’s ship,
dead, wrapped in those insane sheets.

Lucy Simpson, 11/3/2012

Peak to Prairie (A Photo Essay)

Fri, 23 Nov 2012 14:11:05 -0500

Those who know me, know that I struggle with asthma. Finally, with five breath-breaks, I, with my family, made it up the inclined trail to the second reservoir. A bandana over the face does wonders keeping out the frigid dry air, but I did look like a hills bandit. Had fun pretending my fingers were guns and mock-shooting my children.

I don't HDR my images, since I am not trying to create an exact replica of reality. I am trying to see something that is below the surface, something that emerges in painting, sculpture, writing and photography - a reflected world, which somehow, at least for me, goes deeper than the surface. I use writing and visual art to understand myself and my place in the world.

Sun Rise over Trees and Human Habitations

This connection between human habitations, largely square and rectangular, and the wild, lacy curviness of nature inspires me. Both are beautiful, especially when paired together, the human part in moderation. This is why I hate suburbs, the world's ugliest architecture, even if someone did try to make it look like a Tuscan village, cut off from the natural world. Love cities, because they contain some of the best art and architecture from different eras.

Sun on the Reservoir

The word reservoir comes from the French word for storehouse. I love that the water here stores the reflections, those simulacrums of trees made different, metamorphosed. Love the singed-by-sun wild grass.

Water Holding the Sky

Here the water holds the sky and the pine trees, framed by yellowed grasses, that rasp, and a sturdy rock covered in dry moss. The moon rose later, crescent self, and it too was contained in the water.

The Tune of Siva's Eye

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 19:11:29 -0500

If the song is palpable
then be scared, for
the river will flow skyward
and wood will wax-drip.

Fish will join in the singing,
the carp with the bass notes,
the trout with the tenor,
and that tiny crawdad soprano,

but, honestly you should shut
your ears to beautiful death,
your eyes to the catastrophe.

Choose to harvest morels
those twisted toes,
placing each morsel
in your basket,
while others run screaming.

Become part of the scene.
It is not a painted backdrop.
Your right arm will be visible,
disguised as a deer's antler,
the silver fuzz worn off.

There will be a hush following
the song. On the other side
of the world, The Great Wall
will shiver and a crack will form
and widen until it becomes
a grin and then a howl.

Lucy Simpson, 9/3/2012

Facebook Personality Types

Sun, 11 Nov 2012 18:11:35 -0500

The Whiner

Nothing is ever right for the whiner, whose sole purpose for logging into Facebook is to share his or her misery. “I couldn't sleep last night. The world is a swirling, swirling pit of despair into which I am sinking.” Normally, in a crowded party, you would do well to avoid this individual, because if you show the least bit of compassion, they will latch onto you for the whole night and prevent you from mingling with others, but fortunately on FB, you can do your best to get them to laugh or to console them with a few words, before moving on to happier pages.

"Oh no! The milk it has spilled. My life is a whirling, whirling pit of despair!"

The Grandstander

The sole purpose the grandstander logs into Facebook is to tell everyone how wonderful his or her life is, thus making some people feel inspired, while making others feel like poo. Their disastrous effect on the whiner is noteworthy. “Charles, the children and I have just returned from a year in Zimbabwe, helping to make wells, so the locals could have fresh water. During that time we did the no-diaper method with Zoey, who is now potty trained at one and Zachary learned to read at three. He's now reading Crime and Punishment. What have you all been up to?”

"No accidents for little Zoey here! When not tackling Crime and Punishment, Zachary enjoys a fifteen mile bike ride."

The Hypochondriac

The sole purpose the hypochondriac logs on is to see if some long-lost high-school acquaintance can diagnose his current ailment. “Woke up today and there is a green spot on the tip of my penis. It is oozing and very sore to the touch. Also one of my toe nails fell off yesterday. Not sure if this is related.” Such posts worry others and are simply gross. If the person is truly tactless and does not care if you are eating breakfast while checking your Facebook, he or she will post a photo. Such a person will get responses galore. Don't forget another type, not mentioned here, is the “amateur doctor.” “Rinse the area with apple cider vinegar. Stand on one leg for an hour while singing O Canada. Should clear up soon.”

Ew! I'm eating here! Get this image out of my brain!!

The Bon Mot

The bon mot simply makes everyone feel stupid. He or she is busy making witticisms. “Tried to put the slipcover on the sofa today and it was like putting a wetsuit on a hippo.” The bon mot will slip wit in wherever and whenever possible. Your own posts will be taken over by the blazing fire of witticisms and repartee. At the party, the Bon Mot seems quite popular, but people are secretly wishing that a sharp wit recklessly and selfishly wielded would cut the user.

I never knew Voltaire (he lived centuries before me.) He was not a friend of mine due to us living in different eras. You sir, are no Voltaire.

The Cause-Monger

People are starving and dying on this planet. The Cause-Monger wants you to feel personally bad about it. You can sign a petition, but you must still feel guilt to be sitting at your computer, safe from war and famine, with your cup of coffee in hand “Think of the children....”

"What have you done for the planet lately, you lazy American fat ass!"

There are many more types of Facebook personalities, but these are a few of the most prevalent. Think of it as a big party in an uncomfortable room without any hors d'oevres. So pour a cup of coffee or wine. Get yourself some cheetos or whatever your sin is. I'll be hanging with the Bon Mots. Then I'll mosey over to the Grandstanders. I'll drop some consolation and love to the Whiner. Tell the Hypochondriac that what he has looks mighty painful and that he should see the doctor, whom he is afraid of. I'll listen to the Cause-Monger and agree, if I agree. Then, if it all becomes too much, I'll retreat to the corner of the room, take the lampshade off the lamp, put it on my own head and become the lamp.

Photo by Michael Kitchin - BE THE LAMP