Archive for the ‘uncategorized’ Category

Blogger Mary

January 15th, 2013 1 comment

To LindaEarlier today  you may have seen a picture of a car in a ditch taken at Imboden, AR.   I had seen it on FB and left a comment that I would share it on my site.  It was similar to other pictures that were showing up on FB, so I didn’t think anyone would mind.  I was wrong.

Tonight I found  two stern comments from someone, unnamed, from the site,  telling me to remove the photo at once, that it had a copyright on it.   They also told me not to use anything from their page.  Yes sir, or ma’am, I certainly won’t.  I wish they had been a little nicer but maybe they felt violated and were just defending their rights.  I don’t want my writings used without permission, so I understand .  Guess I thought being a ‘home girl’ they would be more accommodating, even happy for me to use their picture.  Silly girl. : )

 Oh well, not wanting to ruffle anyone’s feathers,  I wrote an email apologizing.  After all, this is an ad-free site, I’m not making anything off of it.  I don’t assume ownership of anything that is not original with me.  If  I failed to give them credit for the picture then that was an oversight and I sincerely regret that, because I believe in giving credit where credit is due.

Guess I’ve been spoiled in my 5 years of blogging.  With over 5,400 articles posted, I have been blessed by many, many  people eager to share their photos and stories with a greater audience.  Photographer Bill Stice has given me permission to post his amazing photography, Jimmy Simpson allows me to post his wonderful poetry, and Jana Caldwell generously shares her humor .  

Rarely has anyone objected, but since Imboden did,  I removed the picture, ‘post haste’.

Blogger Mary, still learning to play nice in cyber-space.



Beauty of the Dance

March 21st, 2011 Comments off





November 29th, 2009 Comments off

img730 Elva, is a student of Flamenco dancing. (see her in art/photo/dance.)  I saw her dance beautifully  in a recent performance of the CZ Flamenco Dance Company.

The intimate Morgan Wixson Theatre in Santa Monica, CA was filled with family and friends of the dancers, including my son, who invited me along to see his girl friend dance.

I was intrigued since the last time I saw Flamenco dancing in person was forty years ago in Spain.  (I don’t get out much do I?)

The dancers were striking in their brightly colored long dresses, sleek hair styles and posture.  As each entered and exited the stage, she moved slowly, confidently, with aloofness that said :  “I am a strong gypsy woman, and I’m calling the shots. ”

When they danced they came alive and you could feel the power of even the most petite woman. They moved with elegance, their arms and hands flowing gracefully as they swished their skirts, clapped their hands dramatically (called palmas) or clicked castanets.

The accompanists included the traditional heart and soul of the performance, the Spanish singing cantaor; an outstanding flamenco guitarist;  and a drummer who sat on a box-like drum called the cajon.  The three men were on stage throughout the performance interacting with the dancers through the music.

It was an exciting evening watching the small groups of mostly young women, mixing elegant turns and twists with graceful hand gestures, and energetic, vigorous, rhythmic stamping of heels in the dance style originated by Spanish Andalusian gypsies.

The dance instructor, Celina Zombon,  pictured on the cover of the program, gave two solo performances, demonstrating her professional status and skill as a flamenco dancer.  When she took center stage and began dancing on the special flooring, her feet were amazingly fast, and she kept up the hard, loud pace until  I was worn out, exhausted, just watching.  Couldn’t help but wisecrack about the lithe and limber  Celina, “No wonder she weighs 60 lbs.”

Ah, to be young again, like Elva, and brave enough to dance like a Andalusian gypsy, and have a good looking boy friend waiting at the stage door afterwards with a dozen red roses.

Oh well, guess I’ll have to settle for a boot scootin’ line dance in the family room with a dawg named Ralph E. Boy.

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