Location: Sad Cafe in my Beret

Ignatius is thankful for his wool beret, as the first winds of autumn shake summer’s last flowers.  He sips his cafe au lait and laments, in the depths of his ravaged soul:

Oh, how soon the flowers must fade.  Oh, the ennui of my Second Life. Even these women who have been so kind to this suffering artist do not truly understand me…oh, sigh. Di must log off to change her contact lenses and chase her vomiting cat with a towel. 

Cynthia and Tenchi have gone to bed…it is deep night in Germany, as dark as the dark night of my soul.  There is no one to share my angst, my pain.  No one to understand the emptiness of life…the agony of a tortured soul so full of the bitter dregs left when the passion of Art burns so low….where is my muse?

The waiter gives Iggy a dope-slap and reminds him to pay his tab or leave.

Yes, I’m wearing a beret. Stuck it on my bald head and everything changed!

I’ve been looking for one for so long to create just the pretentious Beatnik look that defines part of Ignatius Onomatopoeia.  And Di gave me the right long black duster to wear as I trek to Cecil’s art show to buy his painting for the gallery in my soon-to-be-built home on UR Island.

I want to thank Elizabeth Zeno for creating just the perfect beret. Her work can be found at *77 Degrees* Fashion and Accessories (Envy 58, 95, 22).

When I bought the beret, I left a message for Elizabeth, and she replied that she likes “to provide an alternative clothing line. . . and tell a story at the same time (in character development mode).”  There’s a great image of this is Elizabeth’s shop; a woman in clothing straight from An American in Paris zips along on a Vespa.  That’s the type of creative look one just does not see enough in SL, and, just with images alone, it conjures up a story.

I keep thinking about how refreshing it would be to see more berets…I have not yet seen one on a guy in SL.  I wonder—just wonder—if any of the over-inked cyberpunk biker types (hmm…about 50% of SL guys) might not get the women and the attention they wanted if they tried out a different look once in a while?

Seems to work for a certain hillbilly guest writer for this blog…

Well, back to moping over my 5th cafe au lait.

I return to muse upon this battered copy of Proust,  as the Montmartre twilight deepens and the shadows of the past haunt my tortured soul.

See you sad artistes in-world….

Be sure to check the “In a Strange Land” Archive for old posts

sounds good :D if you catch me online simply tp me in

That would make a great blog—we’ll all go to the Paris sim and sit about looking sad

Next week, ladies?  I’ll be there in black. Wish they had virtual Madrid in SL—I could fake that pretty well, having lived there IRL.

Oh great - now I want to see “La Bohème” and meet you two in Paris!

I have to practise my French first, but every attempt makes me sound more like Pepe le Pew…

How about a photo shoot in SL’s New Paris (or Paris 1900)? I have the matching outfit and my beret ready!

Well if you say so Arguing with someone who should better then me doesn´t make much sense right?

See you around at Hillbilly Paradise soon

Poetry can be tongue-in-cheek and play off of other writers’ work…just as you did at the start here.

And I’m not fooling around at all. I enjoyed the poem and thing we SLers need to write more about this strange world we inhabit.

*shysmile* don´t fool around. My first poetry ever and I didn´t even think much when the lines were written ... apart from stealing from shakespeare as an opener

Yes….yes, you way-gone Beatnik kitty…as Dean Moriarty would say to Sal Paradise in On the Road, YAAASSS!

You must come to the poetry reading that Cecil and I have planned…and read this!

Oh we few,
we lucky few,
having finally met in the world of our imagination,
drifting betweens prims,
hurrying from lag to lag,
being the hellbillies that we are,
searching for the truth behind the mysteries of the masters ways,
will we meet again in this day or the next?
maybe we will, maybe we won´t,
yet still it is certain we won´t meet again that young that we are now since everything has to fade,
but like the band on the titanic keep that music playing because everything moves on and even if it is the cold arms of the mercyless sea.

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