Saturday, January 27, 2007

Hear Welsh by Ioan Gruffudd & Matthew Rhys in “DAL Yma/Nawr”

The Video I originally had here was removed from Youtube. This is the text I had for that video:
Here you have a wonderful video of two friends doing a documentary together.
"This was a film done in 2003-2004 about Bardic tradition in Wales."* It's a completely Welsh language clip, and features best friends Ioan Gruffudd and Matthew Rhys. Thanks and credit go to www.ioanonline.com and *echidna82 for sharing. The clip starts with Ioan speaking while sitting on a rock at the beach running sand through his hands with Matthew striding toward him under the palm trees 50 seconds into the 2:24 clip. Then Matthew, wearing a different shirt, is sitting beside Ioan while they talk poetically in soothing, lulling tones.

So, May 8, 2010 I posted this video with Ioan speaking Welsh:


I am Taliesin spoken by Ioan Gruffudd
Uploaded by yenneffer333


Uploaded by havisham06

Soloman and Gaenor
Not Welsh - Ioan Gruffudd and Maire Brennan/Spillane
Uploaded by kkbronson

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all the things we used to blame on the devil

Why him and not Hillary? Well, I have my rational, thoughtful reasons. And then there is a reason that may not be so reasonable, but it's still important. I feel lifted up by his attitude and the way he exudes excitement and his expression of simple democratic values of caring for people that have been forgotten for way too long. We need to get back to "the people". He inspires. Hillary doens't affect me in that way. She is so very talented, gifted and needed. But, so much, we need a leader who can rally our lost hope and excitement in our basic values. We need charged up.
I saw Diane Sawyer's "Waiting for the World to Change" 20/20 story in Camden, New Jersey, Friday night. How depressing was that?! You just couldn't turn away from the spirit that these children were having so little support from their community and country. The little kindergarten boy who could count the 3 wheels on a tricycle - but who couldn't say how many meals we have a day because for him there were NEVER 3 meals a day. The little girl who in the short time that Diane knew her had eyes and a spirit that went from youthful exuberance to eyes that were lifeless and a spirit that had been drained. The young man who lived in a drug infested Camden neighborhood and worked a job to help the family through high school. You had to see where they lived to get the impact of his story. He slept on the floor with the bugs crawling. He so wanted to make his dad proud and be able to graduate high school in a place that it was most uncommon. He worked harder than you or I ever did to get that diploma. After much fear that it wouldn't come to pass for him, it did. We must care about the poor in our country. We must care about the victims of Katrina. We must. But if we dont' - we will continue to pay, one way or the other

If any of you read my January 25 post " BROTHERS AND SISTERS Finds The Great Divide in the USA" over at my blog at tvguide.com, as ilovemylife, you will understand when I say the following. I went to Huntington College for a year and a half. While there I worked as a creative editor on the college newspaper and boldly made the move to artistically create the following quote as a full front page statement:

"Remember all those things we used to blame on the devil
and all those things we left up to God?
Now it's all a hundred times more complicated.
We Must Become New Men (and Women)
OR Be Satisfied As We ARE . . .
either way WE risk tragedy."
(from Joseph Pintauro's little book, "to believe in man"
. . . OR NOT.

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Matthew Rhys is More Than Kevin Walker

Matthew Rhys Evans' acting career is varied and colorful. He's bold, has great comedic timing and will surprise us, Americans, with his many voices.

I am fascinated with the talent of Matthew Rhys. In April 2000, there was this article in Elle magazine of Matthew and his flatmate, Ioan Gruffudd, whom he has known since childhood. I have the four pages here of the article, but the web address is http://melissaroo.tripod.com/elle/elle.html

Here is something special, a movie clip from "Very Annie-Mary". See if you recognize the other BROTHERS AND SISTERS regular in this clip. Matthew Rhys teamed with pal Ioan Gruffudd to play a gay couple called Hob and Nob in the comedy "Very Annie-Mary".

Check out My Blog at tvguide.com as ilovemylife. Especially, the post "BROTHERS AND SISTERS Finds The Great Divide in the USA" posted January 25, 2007. There you will find links to hear Matthew Rhys speak in different styles. The one I find the most intriguing is the one in his native language of Welsh. You won't understand a word of it (unless you speak Welsh), but still, it is delightful and will pull you in to his world.
This man overflows with talent. We are blessed to see him as the beloved Kevin. But he is so much more than Kevin.
I hope you enjoyed this. I did.

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Friday, January 26, 2007

Oh WOW! I so love this!

Celebrating! I finally got my high speed internet today, just so I could do things like this.

"This is dedicated to the one I love" (borrowed from a "Mamas and Papas" song title)

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Thursday, January 25, 2007

The Power of Beauty - Higher than Reason

Dad and me

What if I die tomorrow and I chose to postpone joy today?

. . . . And what makes life . . . . . . life?

And what makes it so enjoyable, that you anxiously want to take it all in?

For me it's my passions.

So many passions, so little time.

I love being in this bliss.

I never knew my life would be this good. I am humbled . . .


I will not remember

what you are in the form of words,


in essences.

It isn’t words

that give you power over me.

It is important that we open


to our vast resource of emotions and passion,

and that we

give with feeling, from a soul

that has felt its depths

pushed out into

an infinite realm.

The glory of beauty is then crowned,


to be crowned again and again.

Your spirit sustains.

Feelings of you surface

to nourish

the glow in my heart

that is present




I have once shared the wealth of your soul

and humbly

I hope,

you have felt

the warmth

of my soul

reaching out

to you.

And that

each one of us

has entered,


to know again,

the richness to be known

in sharing

the wealth of two souls



they have become . . . to become.

This then would be fulfillment

To have




and to complement itself so.

To allow Life to become one





to the quality of being.

Such union

would shake our senses


would be higher than reason.

The power of beauty we do not know.

Let me try.

I will affirm

your beauty,

I will be loving,



Open to me


do not be afraid.

I must trust

the greatness

of your soul.

Dare I be so vulnerable

to trust

you will be fair

with the receiving of my giving?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ........ Yes.


My poem above was written years ago. It resulted from an adventure in Rome when I met Stelios from Greece. We walked to the Colosseum one day. Then met up again in London a couple years later. Stelios is long gone from my life, but the poem still touches my heart. Memories are such a gift. Enjoy them. I dedicate this wonderful memory to my dad whose "memory" has robbed him of his being so fully human and fully alive, here on this planet, in his mortal body.


I will not remember

what you are in the form of words


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Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Ooh Sha Sha . . . We Gotta Live Together

Sometimes I'm right,

then I can be wrong,

A butcher, a baker, a drummer and then

Makes no difference
what group I'm in.
I am everyday people

Ooh sha sha
We gotta live together

I am no better and neither are you
We're all the same
whatever we do

You love me you hate me
You know me and then
Still can't figure out the scene I'm in
I am everyday people

Then it's the new man
That doesn't like the short man
For being such a rich one
That will not help the poor one
Different strokes for different folks
And so on and so on scooby dooby dooby

Ooh sha sha
We got to live together

There is a yellow one that won't
Accept the black one
That won't accept the red one
That won't accept the white one

Different strokes for different folks
And so on and so on and
Scooby dooby dooby
Ooh sha sha
I am everyday people

Song lyrics of: EVERDAY PEOPLE
It was sung by Sly & the Family Stone


My new post for “Sexual Politics” is at www.tvguide.com and is listed under BLOGGERS on the BROTHERS AND SISTERS CAST & DETAIL page as The Brothers and Sisters and Mother - Are Looking For Connections.


The abc.go.com blog. “Bloggers and Sisters” with the title “New Episode Sunday – ‘Sexual Politics’" was something today. When some see Kevin’s lips meeting another guy’s lips, this very brief encounter singes some people’s hair or feelings or something. I was reading, agreeing, disagreeing cordially, having tears in my eyes and exercising my diaphragm muscles from the physical work-out-laughter. It’s almost like a script.

My favorite scene in “For the Children” was when Kevin finally “GOT to” Scotty and apologized with that adorable facial expression, then the chemistry-sparks flew like sparklers, THEN he heroically, so professionally and eat-your-heart-out stuck-up for Scotty after the boss knee-jerkingly and homophobically fired Scotty-the subject of his affections-for lips meeting. And, oh, that onery Kevin-smile as he turned and walked away from the boss man was to-die-for.

My favorite scene in “Date Night” was when Scotty showed up at Kevin’s apartment and owned his mistake, straightforwardly expressed his “like” for Kevin and the sweetest kiss was observed by the cute neighbor, Mrs. Something-berry as well as those with whatever gene that is that allows us to be turned on by four lips meeting.

My favorite scene in “Mistakes Were Made, Part I”, aka “Glass Jumps” was the 96 seconds of Kevin talking to Scotty’s answer machine and watching Scotty’s body language responding while listening to Kevin apologize. THIS was de-e-e-licious sex without the sex. If you follow me.

And my favorite scene of “Sexual Politics” was the 93 seconds, starting with Kevin and Chad Berry first arriving at Inspiration Point until the pan out of the night-lights view. The kiss might have lasted 3 seconds. Personally Chad’s shoulder got in the way of my view too soon. I didn’t have the same feeling of comfort and fireworks with this connection, but it still was pleasurable. And we all do stupid things in love, pretty much our whole lives give or take some more intelligent choices and moves that we can proudly cling to.

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Sunday, January 14, 2007

". . . the thing you are shall make you live and it will never make you do anything less"

Why blog? If I read a blog and I feel nothing really “shows”, no “slip” is hanging out or no feelings are exposed, then I don’t have a reason to ever want to come back and get more of the same . . . nothing, really. I know people read my blogs. Rarely comments are left. But I know people come back. I don’t have any tangible material as to why, but I have well over a thousand visitors per posting over at my other blog as a relative blog-newcomer, so since my stuff is more personal than the other stuff I see, I’m surmising others want what I give . . . sharing my thoughts and feelings. Feelings. That thing that is so special about human beings being human. I’m willing to be vulnerable. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

. . . So . . . . . . …

This is personal. But that’s what I do best.

I feel so good and I have no one to share it with, so I am writing this blog entry. If there is anyone out there listening and “getting” me – cool, so cool. Anyway, I just took my daily walk in the typical place, down my street, turn left, turn left again and walk down Mitchells Lane until I turn around at Wyatt. This was a great walk. I had the cd playing in my ears that I made for dancing to for last summer’s Rwandan Women’s Center fund raiser. It is gray with heavy fog mist, but my heart is so ebullient and my spirit so light that the sun is glowing on the inside. I loved the green ground, the golden past-prime plants along the road, even the browns of the trees of branches. I’ve done virtually nothing today and it is 4:15 p.m. already. Only my yoga, leg lifts and trivial stuff. My weights will be next, then I will finally do what I planned to do – start filing all this paper laying around, some in folders, in boxes, others just laying around. I know this has to be done before I sit down to write the article for the Rwandan genocide anniversary, April 6, *discipline myself to organize my stuff for my book that I will write, record my singing and poetry on a cd, work on my sculpture and figure out how to get my singing and poetry recording on my blog. No small feat – the blog mechanics. Not exactly my forte. (Musical terms – love ‘em – has nothing to do with two music degrees, just love that I know some Italiano: )

*Discipline, now there’s a word. I was raised with so much discipline that I had no idea where I began and where my mother ended. It’s taken a lifetime to figure that out. Thank Goodness I have lived longer than that lifetime so that I could enjoy being me. Outlived Mozart a couple of decades already.

I love being impulsive again. After teaching for 3 decades of my life where children responded to my impulsivity but also needed routine to feel safe and secure in my classroom and after living in a committed relationship for 15 years most of which was very lonely – being free of both of those things has led me here. To my life of welcoming impulsivity, liberated reservations and limitations, an unadulterated joy of life and a reaffirmation of all of my feelings and vulnerabilities. I AM so happy with who I am. I don’t want to sound boastful or superior. If that is the way that you see me, then I can’t help that and I’ll just shrug my shoulders. Because I would never give up how I feel about myself at this time in my life. Several years ago (that is 7 or 8) I wanted to die. Seriously. Every part of my life was dismal and I didn’t have my self together enough to withstand the unbalance in my life. No body in my life had his or her life together enough to bolster me up with sustenance to bridge the gap from wanting to die to wanting to get up every morning and feel like I feel now. I fought the meds offered me and basically did it the old-fashioned way. I worked through it all, minus the fog of prescribed medications and never a drink or any unprescribed drugs.

I am so excited about life. I look in the mirror and wish it was the younger skin there in the mirror, but love that beautiful spirit that is visible in the eyes and the expressions that I play around with in the mirror. I am so in love with who I have finally found in there, inside of this mortal body. I have been high in love before but it was with a male, not with who I myself was. But I wager now that even those times of being so high on life and in love, were really just a reflection of myself. One man actually said that to me once. Maybe he got it way before I did.

I wonder about him. But not even a google brings him up.

Any way, I feel good today and I wanted to share with someone. So whoever you are – I am sharing it with unknown you. We all serve a purpose of sorts. Mine is to be happy. And I am.

“To believe in God is to know the thing you are shall make you live and it will not make you do anything less." from Joseph Pintauro’s little book “To Believe in God”

NOTE about the Picture: When I was in my twenties, taken in Rockport, Massachusetts, aka Cape Ann.


Monday, January 8, 2007

My TV BROTHERS and SISTERS Family Makes It Real

Thoughts after viewing BROTHERS and SISTERS episode "Family Day"

After hearing by way of phone about my own family dysfunctional drama this weekend, it was so nice to sit down and watch my TV family, Brothers and Sisters, vocally duke it out in a believable functional-dysfunctional way in the “Family Day” episode. If only my family . . . well could put two sentences together about their feelings without crushing the other person . . . My script has me smack dab in the middle. I’m the one they each take their turns, turning to when the chips are down. Of course, none of them has ever been my soft place to fall. And certainly never my rock. How did I get this role? I’m the exiled sister and daughter living on the east coast with a brother on Maui, a sister in Indiana where we all were raised, a mother who has put my father in an institution for the rest of his life, while she lives . . . well some of this stuff is coming out in my book. : ) : I :.. ( I don’t know . . . I am in such a great place in my life, with such balance and acceptance of my exile status. I mean, I can’t change how the members in my family judge my life, and having a choice of trying to placate them or living my own life – I choose living my own life. Too bad it took me so-o-o long to be this happy with my self and my life - and stopping the waiting for their acceptance.

The thing is I am the one that has taken the “turn” most of the adult years to get blamed for keeping the family from being a perfect family. I’ve been hailed the sinful daughter, the wayward one. Now I’m basically immuned from their opinions of me. They don’t shake me up anymore, I find. I know who I am. And I really like me. There isn’t anyone I’d rather be than me. Just like to be in my thirties again. You know, so the guys that flip my heart over would be within some sort of reality range of connecting for at least a date. No one believes me when I tell them my age. My talk therapist tells me to stop telling people how many years I’ve lived. I know I look 10 years younger than what I am, but still, what beautiful guy wants to date someone old enough to be their mother? : ) Okay, enough.

What is so surreal is I got this call out of the blue this weekend from one of the exilers. While I’ve learned to live out here in exile status and find my true state of bliss while out here, my older brother now feels some commisserative kinship because he thinks he finally has experienced what I’ve gone through my whole life.

One thing I love being is ”out there”. . . being me without all those reservations, without the limits imposed by a mother who hasn’t a clue who I am and definitely at a loss as to who she is. I love when I see the Walkers talk to each other even in the hot, flawed ways that they do, because it is refreshing to see that happening even if it’s not my own family. They feel like family. And personally I have experienced communication actually working in hot and tense situations, just never within my family of brother, sister and mother.

This is scary even for me to put this out in the universe, but I’m set on this thing of fully being alive and living my life out loud. I don’t make this stuff up.