on paternity fraud this eastern tale i read a couple of decades ago came to mind. paternity fraud is a strange other-sex social phenomena in which males raise other males children apparently because they are told the children are theirs. some of them seem quite upset upon finding otherwise. they could take inspiration from the zen monk in the story.
easter may have come and gone for another year, but the lilies of easter have not yet finished proclaiming the return of the sun.
lilies in the Allan garden greenhouse.
a heavily insulated south facing box along a walking path to enjoy a break from inclement weather or for sitting in on winter days. something similar, though not as enclosed, can be found in the writings of gordon cullen, his townscape books.
the example in the photo comes from the orientation of buildings or planning for sunlight by william atkinson. the text of the book is available at archive.org. using the information in the book one can plan their dwellings and other buildings to be as light and sunny or dark as thit wants.
found this blog while looking for an e-book of jacques penrys "looking at faces and remembering them". I think he was a canadian of french decent, from Quebec, that explains his name, who worked in the British isle. the blog anthropomorphe has links and posts on the human body.
while internet-browsing images of alister crowley this photo of a plate of food came up with the other visual offerings. it led to a blog with a miscellanea of arts and culture posts. it is the method of cooking the rice that interested me. some of the authors other food posts describe her mothers cooking and reveal the truth about the chai latte. ( reposted from reginesenotebooks )
another of the harasseurs sent to incite a violent response after my iPad was taken from me. she showed up near the queen street entrance of the eaton centre, in the richtree cafe, a frequent haunt of csis employees and that ilk. i noticed someone approaching me and when i glanced up she turned and slunk off.
when i finished my coffea and went to catch the king street car there she was waiting in view at the corner of king and yonge waiting for the lights to change.
i think she may be the one known as agent half-pint, the one with the guy who approached me early one morning at st.claire bridge in 1990. they offered me orange juice which i passed on, to a very suspicious look from them, explained to me how they had escaped from the united-states, just walked in on some unprotected road, figured they would try their luck in canada. their luck as cia harasseurs?
wendell castle time piece, titled full moon, on the east terrace of the cibc property at yonge and bloor.
salt stained risers of steps the west entrance to the hudson bay tower at yonge and bloor.
st.james clock tower on the east side of church street, reflected in a mirror window to the west side of church street.
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