Stephen Evans

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Stephen is a playwright and author of The Marriage of True Minds and A Transcendental Journey.

Flipping the Omelet

Very few people who have eaten my cooking realize that I am an expert cook. My topic today is flipping the omelet.

(Disclaimer: my omelets don't look like this)

Never flip an omelet from the center.

Always flip from the side.

If you are right-handed, flip from the left side.

If you are left-handed, flip from the right.

Never flip from out to in.

Flip in to out if you must.

Never flip from back to front or front to back.

It just confuses the omelet

Not to mention the cook.

These instructions apply to many areas of life, especially if butter is involved.

 

(From the archives)

 

 

Recent Comments
Rosy Cole
And does this in-depth advice also apply to pancakes? Will it preclude adherence to the overhead light fixture? There's less than ... Read More
Thursday, 18 January 2018 18:37
Stephen Evans
This is the whole of my philosophy. Via con huevos.
Thursday, 18 January 2018 22:26
Katherine Gregor
What's wrong with just using a fish slice spatula to turn it over?
Sunday, 21 January 2018 17:30
967 Hits
5 Comments

Going to the Dickens

I have never read anything by Charles Dickens. The closest I ever came was playing Young Scrooge in a production of The Christmas Carol (many years ago - Dickens was probably still living). 

I have decided this is the year to correct this oversight, and I am looking for recommendations. Anyone have any favorites?  Other than Christmas Carol.

 

 

 

Recent Comments
Ken Hartke
Happy reading -- there's a lot to choose from. I had to read Great Expectations and Tale of Two Cities in school and still remembe... Read More
Friday, 05 January 2018 16:33
Rosy Cole
Are you sure you want to read Dickens? You can't skip all the narrative with him! He's much dramatised, but hardly the postage st... Read More
Friday, 05 January 2018 21:05
Stephen Evans
Thank you! Ken has reminded me that I read A Tale of Two Cities in school. I am moving on to Carson McCullers However, I am addi... Read More
Friday, 05 January 2018 22:22
965 Hits
5 Comments

Spark Plugs and Synonyms

Suppose you had to explain to someone how a car works, but your explanation could only include the parts of the car. That is what writing about language is like.

 

Recent Comments
Rosy Cole
The conundrum is that language has no life of itself. To communicate it relies on imagery, metaphor, simile and the inspiration of... Read More
Thursday, 07 December 2017 13:29
Stephen Evans
Poetry seems our only hope.
Thursday, 07 December 2017 21:59
Rosy Cole
John Betjeman likened poetry to journalism more than to poetic prose. It's a helpful comparison to bear in mind and reminds us of ... Read More
Friday, 08 December 2017 23:38
988 Hits
8 Comments

First Song

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To that which moves, to that which moves, 

        Which penetrates the universal shine

        And shimmy, Roundabout, where other isn’t

Within, without, non-centric circle thing,

      All light that which in most the light begins

      Nor knows, nor can, who descant;

Because in drawing near to what is dear

      Our swallowy mind perspires and jealous folds

      Into itself where memory cannot go.

Truly whatever the realm holistic

     Powerful treasures, body and mind,

    Mind of which I thee sing.

Apollo, creed of the living

    Vessel me in thy talented power

     Bower of joy and sound!

One sum, it adds up to nought,

    For me for you for both

    Swim to the center and cry.

If you can imagine, you, and breathe

     In deepest drawing scent

    While I watch in awe and innocence.

Ten cents a dance, the best

  That I can do, shadow of the realm

  Stamped in my brain, blessed, so what.

Once there was a tree and a crown

  Underneath it all and nevertheless leaves,

  Which shall you choose, O!

So seldom, Father, so seldom, do we,

  But we try, we have to try and

  of human inspiration can we?

So back to the leaves and so forth,

  They fall all over the crown,

  Where is it I say? I say

But no one answers. Maybe better voices,

  better voices after me, after me.

  Alleluia. Please respond!

 

Recent comment in this post
Rosy Cole
This is almost like a memory of birth, reviving those sensations, but translated in imagistic terms. To me, it speaks of a longing... Read More
Sunday, 12 November 2017 16:04
1156 Hits
1 Comment

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It caught me by surprise the first time I noticed it. After the trolley man, the house was owned by...
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I wish British mothers did, too. Although I suspect that in Paris, too, this is a relatively rare o...
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So evocative - I wish American mothers would take their children to Moliere.