I hope your mom has a good Mother’s Day. Sick burn! Except actually a fond wish …
Alanis Morissette — “The Heart of the House”
Shirley MacLaine and daughter Sachi.
You are the original template.
You are the original exemplary.
How seen were you, actually?
How revered were you, honestly, at the time?
Mirrormask.
Why pleased with your low maintenance?
Where was your ally,
your partner in feminine crime?
But, oh, mother, who’s your buddy?
Oh, mother, who’s got your back?
Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher on Debbie’s birthday.
The heart of the house,
The heart of the house.
All hail the goddess.
Joanie and Christina.
You were “good-ol'”
You were “count on her ’til four a.m.”
You saw me run from the house
In the snow melodramatically.
Marvelous Jessica Walter as Lucille on Arrested Development. It is comforting to know there are many worse winkers in the world than me. (But I wager not a great many.)
But, oh, mother, who’s your sister?
Oh, mother, who’s your friend?
The heart of the house.
The heart of the house.
All hail the goddess.
Shirley and Sachi again, by Leo Fuchs. I adore pictures of the two of them together.
We left the men and we went for a walk in the gatineaus
And talked like women,
Like women to women would.
“‘Women to women would’ — where did you get that from?
Must’ve been your father, your dad.”
Audrey Hepburn and her mother before the Occupation.
I got it from you, I got it from you.
Do you see yourself in my gypsy garage sale ways?
In my fits of laughter?
In my tinkerbell tendencies?
In my lack of color coordination?
Probably like the fifth time I’ve used this picture. Bebe Buell and Liv Tyler, beautiful women and loving mothers both.
All my best wishes to the maternal among us of any age or gender. I don’t believe God intends any of us to be orphans. In the absence of a literal physical “mother,” I hope we are able to open our hearts to others in our lives that wish to help fill that role. And if you have still your original mom, won’t you call her or something? It’s a horrible and complex thing and that’s why none of us mothers are perfect, because it’s the first time you realize that you have to be this role first, and a person second, and though high-handed so-called instruction books abound, your own children arrive essentially manual-less. Cut mom a break and shoot her a thank you, maybe? As Panda says, file that under “just sayin’.” SeaQuest out!
The following Cummings poem is not much like his usual at first blush, but is really full of simple wordplay and tricksy manipulation of conventions that conceals a more complex meaning than simple medieval ballad — which is much more in keeping with what you’d expect, yes? “All in green went my love riding” has been set to music and sung by, among many, Warren Kinsella and one of my patronessiest of patron saints, Joan Baez. The most widely accepted meaning of the poem is that it is a subtle retelling of the myth of Artemis and Actaeon. (Variations of the myth here.)
Modesty Blaise.
As far as I can tell, in the version on which Cummings has based “All in green went my love riding,” Actaeon is a merciless hunter who desires to marry Artemis after he sees her bathing. The virgin warrior goddess is furious at this cheek, particularly that he would spy on her and then imply she owes him marriage (she fiercely protected her physical privacy and chastity).
The lovely and talented Marguerite Empey.
Artemis punishes Actaeon by warning him that, if he ever speaks, he will be transformed in to a stag and devoured by his own bitches, which is where it seems Cummings picks up the thread. Here it is.
All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn.
four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the merry deer ran before.
Fleeter be they than dappled dreams
the swift sweet deer
the red rare deer.
Four red roebuck at a white water
the cruel bugle sang before.
Horn at hip went my love riding
riding the echo down
into the silver dawn.
four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the level meadows ran before.
Softer be they than slippered sleep
the lean lithe deer
the fleet flown deer.
Four fleet does at a gold valley
the famished arrow sang before.
Photographed by Neil Krug.
Bow at belt went my love riding
riding the mountain down
into the silver dawn.
four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the sheer peaks ran before.
Paler be they than daunting death
the sleek slim deer
the tall tense deer.
Four tell stags at a green mountain
the lucky hunter sang before.
Amber Weber for I.D., September 2008.
All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn.
four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
my heart fell dead before.
(E.E. Cummings, “All in green went my love riding.” Tulips and Chimneys. 1923.)
He just had to sing all triumphantly, didn’t he, in front of the green mountain? Heart = hart. A synonym for stag. Pretty sure that between the line about stags and the repetition of “all in green,” Artemis changed him in to one of the “Four tell stags” and his own dogs ripped him to pieces.
Liv Tyler.
Also I noticed on this re-read that she dwells longer than I remembered over her four dead does. This makes sense because besides being the ruler of nature and the hunt, she held deer and cypress as her closest animal and plant brethren. The victims of Actaeon’s arrow and his ravaging dogs, those four deer emerge in her description unquestionably as females: they are slender, pale, lithe, slippered — red and rare. Virginal language, am I right? That purity and feminity gives the “Four” power and deserves honor, just as does Artemis’s own virginity, which bathtime-peeping Actaeon and his sleazy, brutish hounds do not seem to understand or respect.
via thechocobrig on the tumblr. fabulous photojournal.
By contrast, in all of the lines which describe his four animals, Actaeon’s “four” appears in lowercase letters — the only Cummingsish punctuation-play in the poem, as the four remain in lowercase despite following periods, which Cummings otherwise obeys with great restraint for the rest of the poem. Actaeon’s four are the four hounds; the miniscule rather than majuscal “f” usage denotes the speaker’s low opinion of them and bodes very badly for them, considering Artemis’s usual respect for nature. The number four, besides paralleling the count of her lost deer, is suggestive of pursuit of living creatures in all four of the cardinal directions, a kind of inescapable squared threat in terms of the swath a disrespectful hunter might cut through the planet of a goddess who considers herself the mother of nature — because of its relationship to “four corners,” “four winds,” etc, the total of four hounds is exactly the right number to appear confounding and problematic. An unignorable affront which must be dealt with.
Abbey Lee Kershaw for Dazed and Confused.
The four hounds may also perhaps be a reference to the Horsemen of the Apocalypse who accompany Death in the Revelation of St. John: the hunter brings destruction to what Artemis is sworn to protect; she is the patroness of life on earth, a mother-warrior figure who gives her attention to springs and deer, and Actaeon is that life’s death, a sanguine, horn-blowing archer with attendantly destructive hell hounds that tear her living creatures apart. An essentially unforgivable encroachment on all that Artemis stands for. Those four lean crouching motherfuckers act as a smirking antithesis to her binding and symbiotic method of mothering the earth, by dismantling and devouring everything they encounter, famished agents of a chaos she is sworn to repel. They tear things up.
In this case, their master, too. Does the punishment fit the crime?
I’ve read that there are allusions here to “The Knight’s Tale” in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. I never make it far through those. I know as a happy medievalist I’m supposed to read and adore them and that what I’m about to tell you could get me yelled at and kicked out of the society of nerds who read material that predates van Leeuwenhoek, the inventor of the very lenses the best of the best wear to strain our eyes over the stuff we love, but I feel that poring over Chaucer is something akin to people in a thousand years venerating the script of Rat Race. Great movie, solidly entertaining, good cast with varied backstories, but, like, how dire is reading it to the quest of accurately intrepreting society in this era? Not much. (Commence lambasting, Chaucer-lovers. Change my mind?)
Anyway. If you follow that link to the wiki list of variations on the Artemis and Actaeon story, you can see that different authors have spent time cataloguing the precise names of the up-to-fifty hounds involved in Actaeon’s punishment.
I guess the lesson here is that, if you want even a chance with Artemis, you need to be green in deed as well as dress. Keep your elbows out and for god’s sake recycle, dudes.
I hope your mom has a good Mother’s Day. Sick burn! Except actually a fond wish …
Alanis Morissette — “The Heart of the House”
Shirley MacLaine and daughter Sachi.
You are the original template.
You are the original exemplary.
How seen were you, actually?
How revered were you, honestly, at the time?
Mirrormask.
Why pleased with your low maintenance?
Where was your ally,
your partner in feminine crime?
But, oh, mother, who’s your buddy?
Oh, mother, who’s got your back?
Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher on Debbie’s birthday.
The heart of the house,
The heart of the house.
All hail the goddess.
Joanie and Christina.
You were “good-ol'”
You were “count on her ’til four a.m.”
You saw me run from the house
In the snow melodramatically.
Marvelous Jessica Walter as Lucille on Arrested Development. It is comforting to know there are many worse winkers in the world than me. (But I wager not a great many.)
But, oh, mother, who’s your sister?
Oh, mother, who’s your friend?
The heart of the house.
The heart of the house.
All hail the goddess.
Shirley and Sachi again, by Leo Fuchs. I adore pictures of the two of them together.
We left the men and we went for a walk in the gatineaus
And talked like women,
Like women to women would.
“‘Women to women would’ — where did you get that from?
Must’ve been your father, your dad.”
Audrey Hepburn and her mother before the Occupation.
I got it from you, I got it from you.
Do you see yourself in my gypsy garage sale ways?
In my fits of laughter?
In my tinkerbell tendencies?
In my lack of color coordination?
Probably like the fifth time I’ve used this picture. Bebe Buell and Liv Tyler, beautiful women and loving mothers both.
All my best wishes to the maternal among us of any age or gender. I don’t believe God intends any of us to be orphans. In the absence of a literal physical “mother,” I hope we are able to open our hearts to others in our lives that wish to help fill that role. And if you have still your original mom, won’t you call her or something? It’s a horrible and complex thing and that’s why none of us mothers are perfect, because it’s the first time you realize that you have to be this role first, and a person second, and though high-handed so-called instruction books abound, your own children arrive essentially manual-less. Cut mom a break and shoot her a thank you, maybe? As Panda says, file that under “just sayin’.” SeaQuest out!
I miss the lovely and talented Bebe Buell, Miss November 1974 and mother of marvelous Liv Tyler, too much not to revisit her. Here are some of the pictures which I did not use last time, and fresh quotes. Plus bonus shots of both Liv and Bebe with her mother, also a vintage model!
Photographed by Richard Fegley
Sometimes, when I see my picture in a magazine or watch Todd play at a concert for thousands of people, I almost have to pinch myself when I realize that less than three years ago, I was just a nobody from Virginia Beach who didn’t even know that there was a Todd Rundgren or such a thing as rock culture and the lifestyle that goes along with it. (“Bebe,” Playboy, November 1974. — I love that they did not even bother with a cutesy title. Really, who needs it?!)
One week not too long ago, for instance, Eric Clapton was in town for a concert. Todd and I were invited backstage, at which point Eric asked him to sit in. Then Mick Jagger walked into the dressing room, and later, when Todd was onstage, Mick and I talked and he said, ‘Why don’t you and Todd come over to my place tomorrow?’ His place turned out to be Andy Warhol’s summer cottage out on Montauk Point. And since then, he’s phoned several times from London just to find out how we are.
I bet he did.
I was turned on to rock ‘n’ roll by my grandfather, who played me my first Elvis Presley record. I went absolutely crazy! I was only seven, but I knew that from that point on, music was going to be my life. As I grew older and heard the Beatles, and then the Stones, my mind was made up — it was rock ‘n’ roll for me! (“My Story,” by Bebe Buell, Playboy.com)
Liv and Bebe in 1980
Just as we [Bebe and her former band the The Gargoyles] were getting ready to seal the deal and go on tour, my daughter’s paternity situation became public. And I had to really sit down and find that place inside of me that wasn’t going to be a narcissistic rocker and say, ‘Okay, what’s important right now?’ and because of Liv’s age at the time (14) when all this went public, I had to be there for her or she would have had a warped identity I think—what if I said, ‘Oh, I’m going on the road for two years, see ya honey. By the way, you have two dads!’ Steven Tyler was the actual father, Todd Rundgren raised her as his. (“Air Kisses for the Masses,” John Pfeiffer, The Aquarian Weekly, August 18, 2009.)
The rest of the quotes are from a very sweet and gracious interview Bebe did with LovelyLivTyler.com on the occasion of Liv’s 27th birthday.
Liv, Steven Tyler, and Bebe, 1996. Awwwkwaaard.
There is so much of both of us and Todd [Rundgren] too in Liv’s personality. When she was little she stood just like Todd when she was “thinking” about something important. She has bits of all of us and then the individual things that are uniquely Liv. She has only the best of us three.
Liv, Bebe, and Dorothea Johnson at a Breast Cancer Awareness charity event
My mother [Dorothea Johnson] modeled in the 50’s and had her own “charm school” for girls. I got into the business from some photos that my mom sent to the agent Eileen Ford. She sent for me at the age of 18 and I was off to New York City in 1972. Liv was born in 1977.
What I wish for her is continued true love, good health, a family of her own (grandchildren for me), a wonderful career, personal happiness for she and Roy, long life for darling Neal and for her to find all of her dreams. She seems to be on her way. I bless the day she was born.
Livvy, Mommy loves you. xoxo I’m so proud of you and the beautiful person you are inside and out! — Bebe Buell, NYC 2004
Oh, man. There is … some kind of dust in my eye. Very dusty in here. Ridiculous, all this … this dust.
Twice now, all this “Miss November,” “Playmate of the Month” nonsense — to which I will never commit again, even though I plan to continue featuring noteworthy playmates and models as time goes by; sorry, but doing all the Misses of the month in that month is nothing less than exhausting — has lead to me tagging posts “Liv Tyler” without having a legit standalone post yet for her even though I think she is completely the bees’ knees. So let’s remedy that stickity-stat!
Photograph by who else? Ellen Von Unwerth
I am scared of becoming a mother.
I love to go shopping at Target. They have so much stuff there!, and you can buy almost anything, it’s really amazing.
I don’t think I’m particularly beautiful at all.
Photographed by Henri Tullio in France, 2005, at Givenchy’s dedication of the Liv Tyler Rose.
The age I’m at now, you go from being a young girl to suddenly you blossom into a woman. You ripen, you know? And then you start to rot.
I’m not perfect at all.
Um, NEVER to both of those; I think she is disarmingly honest and kind and special. Do you love that she is barefoot? Liv “Rundgren” Tyler, you so cool.
Love what I do and I have no regrets, but the people I care about are by far the most important thing. I would kill for them. They make my life worth living.
There is no definition of beauty, but when you can see someone’s spirit coming through, something unexplainable, that’s beautiful to me.
With gorgeous sister, model-author Mia Tyler — I am so sorry about the huge “Corbis” watermark in the center of this picture.
I don’t want to spend so much time obsessing about myself. I love to cook and I love to eat. And yet, if I am not careful, I could be considered chubby in the film business. That’s why it is great for me not to live in Hollywood. I love to go to the country where I can wear my pajamas all day long if I want.
Oh, my God, this amazing cool breeze is coming through my window and the sun is shining. I’m happy.
Photograph by David LaChapelle
Half my directors have no idea about my family situation. [Stealing Beauty director] Bernardo [Bertolucci] had no idea who Aerosmith was. People always want to take away from the work that you did, like they want to think it was easy, somehow. I got those parts because I worked hard to get them.
Screencapture from The Fellowship of the Ring, one of those tricksy Hobbitses movies.
I was staying with some friends in England, and it was New Year’s. My husband, Roy [Langdon of Spacehog], and I were sleeping, and I woke to the sound of our friend’s two little boys. They were going around the bedrooms opening the doors and looking in.
When they got to our door, one little boy went to open it and the other said, “No! Don’t open that door! The princess is sleeping in there.”
It made my heart leap out of my chest. I think that was the first time I really realized the impact these [Lord of the Rings] films had on people.
Miss November 1998 was the lovely and talented Tiffany Taylor, who had already appeared in Playboy several times on tearsheet type pictorials.
Photographed by Richard Fegley
She totally looks like Liv Tyler in that shot, don’t you think? I think there is a strong similarity. Then again, it could just be a case of me seeing what I want to see.
Even at a young age I was fascinated by the women on swimsuit posters. I thought those women were the most beautiful women ever and I longed to look like them. This began my desire to be a model. (official site bio)
I was very shy as a child (a trait I still have today) and could barely order food for myself when I went out to dinner. Luckily my step mother helped me to break out of my shell a little bit and become more assertive. My childhood was happy and filled with love, family, and lots of pets.
Q : Unlike a lot of Playmates, you don’t want to be an actor. Why not?
A : I don’t like the Los Angeles party scene. I’ve seen too many people my age who look like they’re 30 because they do drugs and party all night. I’m a real homebody. I suffer withdrawal when I miss South Park.
(“Taylor Made,” Playboy, November 1998)
YOU CAN NEVER HAVE ENOUGH
Ferrets, Coca-Cola, good loving, time to sit back and relax.
I’M ALWAYS
Driving fast, dining out, playing with my babies (my 7 ferrets). (Playboydata sheet)
I am totally on board with the driving fast and the preference of Coke over that nasty oversweetened malted battery acid the jokers call Pepsi, but ferrets? Hell to the no. J-Mys had some when she was engaged to Senor R way back in the day (just saw J-Mys this weekend for the first time since my wedding day, it was really good and she looked beautiful, blonder but still gorge) and those ferrets stank up the whole upstairs of their house. Grody to the max.
New York Comic-Con 2007
Ms. Taylor lives in Los Angeles now. But she does find time to travel back to the East Coast for special appearances. Here she is a couple years ago at the NYC Comic-Con with some lucky stormtroopers. Dude, I seriously love that picture so much. That’s one of the best I’ve seen of a playmate in present action yet.
edit, 8/17/09: I couldn’t understand why Tiffany Taylor shot up so high in people’s google searches that land them on my journal, so I googled her myself. She has just been a featured cast member on HBO’s very, very popular original series True Blood, based on the Sookie Stackhouse novels. I do not, myself, watch the program, but major kudos to her: get it, girl! A steamy cameo on a hotly-buzzed-about show is a huge opportunity for a young actress right now.
via shesocrazy, visit the site stat for more shots and fun pics and commentary on all the lady-news that’s fit to print (like this site, essentially nsfw — but super-loveable!).
If you need a snack or a potty break, now’s the time. Cause the lovely and talented Bebe Buell is about to suck up your entire life until you are through with this entry. … Welcome to the jungle. Better men than you have been lost in its vines.
Before I go on with her basically amazing life-story, I’d like to point out that this gorgeous slice of strawberry cheesecake was basically the hottest ticket in the musical world in the 1970’s, and she rocked a pretty plush rug Down There. All-natural goodness, from a kind and confident lady. What gives with the kind of freakish waxed hardwood floors I am seeing in commercial porn lately? Meanwhile, on the flip side, the most popular amateurs over on the redtube and the tube8 generally sport Hair Down There and feature a throwback to women in pornography and erotica looking convincingly real. Vivid Video, this recently rediscovered art of the legitimate nude, this sexytimes pictures and video trend informed by raw, sexy authenticity, is why you guys are now losing the game almost completely to amateur streaming videos. Pubes and kissing are what make the difference between a so-so, mainly unconvincing video and a really special one. Write that down. Okay, so on with the show.
In 1972 while working as a teenage model in New York City, Buell met and dated rock star Todd Rundgren for several years. During and after her sometimes open relationship with Rundgren, she also became intimate with many other famous musicians, including Iggy Pop, David Bowie, Mick Jagger, Jimmy Page, and Steven Tyler while maintaining homes with Rundgren in both New York City and the Woodstock, New York area until late 1977.
Buell then moved on to Rod Stewart and in the summer of 1978, she began a tempestuous affair with the married but separated Elvis Costello which continued on and off until 1984. She was also involved with the late Stiv Bators and actor Jack Nicholson. — the wiki.
Okay, so the backstory, which is really more like a sexual history. Look, I think it is wretchedly unfair when a lady’s life story is framed by the boys she has bagged, but holy jeebus, Bebe Buell. How can I not bring it up??
Oh, you. You wonderfully nutty, gorgeous-movie-star-baby-spawning, Penny-Lane-in-Almost-Famous-inspiring, strawberry blonde minx! Gawd, how I love her and her sweet, vivacious life outlook. This chick is truly endless entertainment, you guys. I mean it. And she is sweet as hell, too. A real person!
The Thought Experiment 