Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Rushing is useless; one has to leave on time. To such
Truth witness is given by the Tortoise and the Hare.
“Let’s make a bet,”the former once said,“that you won’t touch
That line as soon as I.”“As soon? Are you all there,
Neighbor?”said the rapid beast.
“You need a purge: four grains at least
Of hellebore, you’re now so far gone.”
“All there or not, the bet’s still on.”
So it was done; the wagers of the two
Were placed at the finish, in view.
It doesn’t matter what was down at stake,
Nor who was the judge that they got.
Our Hare had, at most, four steps or so to take.
I mean the kind he takes when, on the verge of being caught,
He outruns dogs sent to the calends for their pains,
Making them run all over the plains.
Having, I say, time to spare, sleep, browse around,
Listen to where the wind was bound,
He let the Tortoise leave the starting place
In stately steps, wide-spaced.
Straining, she commenced the race:
Going slow was how she made haste.
He, meanwhile, thought such a win derogatory,
Judged the bet to be devoid of glory,
Believed his honor was all based
On leaving late. He browsed, lolled like a king, Amused himself with everything
But the bet. When at last he took a look,
Saw that she’d almost arrived at the end of the course,
He shot off like a bolt. But all of the leaps he took
Were in vain; the Tortoise was first perforce.
“Well, now!”she cried out to him.“Was I wrong?
What good is all your speed to you?
The winner is me! And how would you do
If you also carried a house along?”
Jean de la Fontaine
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Will Bullas- Angel Hare...
Here we have an artist with a sense of humor and love.WILL BULLAS was born in Ohio and raised in the southwest. He was majoring in art at Arizona State University when he was drafted and served in Vietnam. After returning from combat duty, Will took up his art studies at the Brooks Institute in Santa Barbara, California where he studied with Ray Strong. There he met his wife, Claudia, who also is an artist. He supported his family as a printer until striking out on his own as an artist, and soon gained a growing audience of enthusiastic collectors. He lives and paints in San Francisco. Will is a signature member of the American Watercolor Society, The National Watercolor Society and the Knickerbocker Artists of New York. He has exhibited twice with the National Academy of Design in New York City.
See above link to see more of his work!! Be prepared to smile!!
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Old Molly Hare
“Old Molly Hare, what you doin’ there?
“Runnin through the cotton patch hard as I can tear. ”
“Bru’r Rabbit, Bru’r Rabbit, what makes your ears so long ? ”
“Cause, by God, they’re put on wrong. ”
“Bru’r Rabbit, Bru’r Rabbit, what makes you look so shy ? ”
“Cause, my Lord, I don^t want to die. ”
Bru’r Rabbit, Bru’r Rabbit, what makes you look so thin ? ”
“Cause, by God, I’m burning the wind.“
“Bru’r Rabbit, Bru’r Rabbit, what makes your tail so white ? ”
“Cause, by God, I’m going out of sight. ”
American Folk Song
by-Gary Anderson Full Moon
Friday, October 5, 2012
billybob on chair -Lorraine Bushek
Lorraine Bushek has talent, and a great love for rabbits.
Lorraine is a blogger, an artist, animal lover and a volunteer with the Rabbit Advocates in Portland Oregon.
Her profile says she lives with her husband, 2 cats, and 2+ rescue rabbits (the number is always changing).
We rabbit lovers have just got to love her painting of rabbits on chairs (plus other places). Her motivation for painting these rabbits is her belief that rabbits belong in the house with their human companions...not outside in a hutch, in the elements. I think the paintings are amazing! I'd hang one on my wall any day!! Go see them for yourself at the link above. (Be sure to scroll down to the bottom of the page to more!!)
Monday, October 1, 2012
In the black furrow of a field
I saw an old witch-hare this night;
And she cocked a lissome ear,
And she eyed the moon so bright,
And she nibbled o' the green;
And I whispered“Whsst! witch-hare”,
Away like a ghostie o'er the field
She fled, and left the moonlight there.
Walter de la Mare