This morning in Plurk, a friend of mine talked happily of a funeral. No, not like that -- she was terribly sad at the funeral, but the funeral was a good one. I've been to a good funeral in my time. Once, actually. It was for my mother-in-law, a woman of spirit and verve from Baton Rouge. At the end of the funeral, my daughter and I danced out of the hall to "When the Saints go Marching In." I think the best funerals are marked by stories, good, deep stories about the dead person's life, and laughter joins the tears.
I was thinking about that this morning as I wandered through Oubliette. This sim is so deeply Autumnal now that it looks like Rivendell in its fading years. So many things in Second Life are fleeting that I feel as if sometimes I'm writing one long elegy. "This beautiful bubble of creation existed, and now it's gone." Will Oubliette last the Autumn? I hope so.
Today's title is from Thomas Gray's poem Ode on the death of a favorite cat.
- Hair: Calico Clara in dark blond roots
- Tattoo: White Widow Reign of Fire in Snow
- Skin: Belleza Leila Pale
- Makeup: Nomine Tattoo Makeup - Nonbeliever (pack 15)
- Necklace: Bliensen + MaiTai Time Loop necklace
- Vest: *SongF* Windsong caramel vest - FGC
- Bracers: The Forge Viking Bracers in (worn/bronze/gold) Rare - FGC
- Headpiece: Deviance Erulisse Circlet in light teal - FGC
- Earthingies: *SongF* Windburned in gold
- Leg tat: Wicked Tattoos - mystic
- Shorts: Aphorism Hot Pants in rust
- Horns: Lassitude & Ennui Filigree Horns in gold
- Boots: Schadenfreude Amargosa Boots
- Shirt beneath the vest: Schadenfreude Peach Eleanor blouse
- Hands: Slink - elegant
- Nails: Flair