Signs as kids shows
  • Aries:That's so Raven
  • Taurus:iCarly
  • Gemini:Hannah Montana
  • Cancer:Lizzie McGuire
  • Leo:Suite Life of Zack and Cody
  • Virgo:Zoey 101
  • Libra:Sabrina the Teenage Witch
  • Scorpio:Kim Possible
  • Sagittarius:Powerpuff Girls
  • Capricorn:Wizards of Waverly Place
  • Aquarius:Hey Arnold
  • Pisces:Sailor Moon

George Harrison in the gardens of Friar Park, screen capped from Living in the Material World

“You know, I’ve always been intrigued with George’s, quote, ‘spirituality,’ which is absolutely essential to him. But, you know, here he does ‘Living in the Material World.’ So he was caught these two worlds, a very spiritual world and a very material world. And they’re both, I think, related in the sense that it’s about finding the beauty in the real world. To create, to make the real world as beautiful as it can be. And that’s, I think, what he was doing in Friar Park. He created such, you know, exquisite beauty there. But there was nothing airy fairy about it. And it wasn’t about somebody snapping his fingers, and having somebody else do it for him. He had to to do the work.” - Terry Gilliam, Living in the Material World

“When I visited George there in the spring of 2001, he was already marked by his illness. Still he absolutely needed to show me the changes in the park… Because he wasn’t that fit anymore, we used a little golf cart. We drove along the winding paths peacefully, and I listened with great interest to his passion speeches about the Canadian goldenrod, indigenous rhododendron bushes or the little bamboo forest that transported the visitor into a Japanese Zen garden for a few moments. It was like a botanical tour. He knew every centimeter of his estate and much of it was planted and tended to by himself and Olivia personally. Helpfully by his side at the beginning was his gardener Morris, with whom George as a gardener in disguise had a close friendship. After his retirement a nursery took over the job, George registered immediately when a flower pot wasn’t at the right place or if some leaves on a shrub showed signs of a fungus.
After a while we came to a place where different types of grass grew that I had never seen before. George stopped the cart and looked at the softly swaying grass for a long time. After a while he turned to me.
‘You know, it took many, many years until I understood that this grass has a special meaning to me. Somehow I feel connected to it. So when I’m not here anymore, than you just have to imagine me as a swaying sea of grass and then I’ll be close to you.’
I must have looked rather clueless. For one, it was news to me that he had a special relationship with grass, and for another I didn’t like the idea one bit that George might soon no longer be here.
George seemed to guess my thoughts. ‘Grass isn’t just grass. There are thousands of different types, soft, hard, long short. I love these big fields with the long, soft grass, the waves when the wind sweeps through them. How much easier would our life be if we could learn from these observations? Just give in to the wind of life and not always resist it. You know what I mean?’ George laughed mischievously.
I understood all too well what the wise, heavily breathing philosopher George was trying to tell me. We were driving around for a while in the golf cart, George at the wheel, when he suddenly stopped again.
‘Now look at that. You have to do everything yourself.’
I didn’t even know what George meant. The garden looked immaculate.
‘That little tree there. Just laying there when it should have been planted already. They forgot that birch tree. It’s going to die.” While he grumbled to himself, he climbed out of the vehicle to take a closer look at the little tree.
“Wait here for a minute, Klaus, I’ll be right back.’
He shuffled around the corner, and a short while later I heard the sound of an approaching motor. Aha, I thought, George found an employee to do this for him. But when the vehicle came around the corner, good old George himself sat at the wheel of the small dredger.
‘Go and get a big bucket of water over there,’ he called to me, ‘it was too heavy for me to lift with this thing.’
He told me where to go.
When I brought the bucket of water, George had already dug a large hole. He grinned down at me contentedly from his mini dredger.
‘Could you please pour half the water into the hole?’ He was breathing heavily and I saw small drops of perspiration on his forehead.
‘George, leave it, I’ll do it.’
‘No, no, Klaus, let me do. I’m okay.’ George carefully lifted the birch with the dredger and swung it to the left to place it over the hole. ‘It has to be planted or it will dry up, and the gardening troupe won’t be back for another two days. Can you carefully tilt the birch down so that the roots are in the hole? Or wait, let me do that, I know how it’s done.’
Slowly, he climbed out of the dredger to then lovingly place the young tree into its designated hole.
‘Now you can put the soil on it, so that it’s in tight. You have to put it on in a circular motion.’
I slowly shovelled the soil around the tree.
Then George took bucket, which was now only half full and therefore no longer so heavy. Slowly he watered the problem child from all sides. ‘Alright, that’s enough now.’ Then he patted the tree trunk and smiled. ‘Good boy, now we both feel better again.’” - translated from Warum spielst du Imagine nicht auf dem weißen Klavier, John? by Klaus Voormann [x]

so this blog has reached 2000 followers..

Thanks to warmflatsoda for being our 2000th follower.

I’d like to highlight that anyone who follows this blog is insane. But I am by far the most insane for even running it.