About Beverly Wu
You can follow her on Twitter @beverlywu http://twitter.com/beverlywu
welcome to Beverly’s blog,
yet another average website inconsistently chronicling the life of one small girl in Metro Vancouver. She hopes that you will wonder why she bothers to bore you with such mundane details of her life as if they were exciting … then realize that such are the excitements that fill up the days between worthy pursuits and memorable changes of heart.
What is a Beverly?
A Beverly is a doer of stuff.
Yes, Beverlys study linguistics, and acting, and art and all sorts, but are not defined by such activities, and are therefore neither linguists, nor actresses, nor artists by title.
However, this particular Beverly is a wife by marriage to a beautiful man named Steve. www.sjhannah.com.
“If I were to wish for anything,
I should not wish for wealth and power, but for the passionate sense of the potential, for the eye which, ever young and ardent, sees the possible. Pleasure disappoints, possibility never. And what wine is so sparkling, what so fragrant, what so intoxicating, as possibility!”
- Soren Kierkegaard
“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep, because reality is finally better than your dreams” – Dr. Seuss
“If the art doesn’t make you happy, the biz never will” – Andy Mac
“An art thief is a man who takes pictures.” – George Carlin
“I’m a grown man, I can do what I want, and I’m going to fly by the seat of my pants, thank you very much.” – Steve (the husband)
“Today I will be happier than a bird with a french fry.” – Studio Mela (@dazeychic on Etsy)
Thither, Borborygmus, Parsimony, Roiling, Gambol, Eschew, Flump.
And from The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams:
“It is important to note that suddenly, and against all probability, a Sperm Whale had been called into existence, several miles above the surface of an alien planet and since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale, this innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity. This is what it thought, as it fell: “Ahhh! Woooh! What’s happening? Who am I? Why am I here? What’s my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Okay okay, calm down calm down get a grip now. Ooh, this is an interesting sensation. What is it? Its a sort of tingling in my… well I suppose I better start finding names for things. Lets call it a… tail! Yeah! Tail! And hey, what’s this roaring sound, whooshing past what I’m suddenly gonna call my head? Wind! Is that a good name? It’ll do. Yeah, this is really exciting. I’m dizzy with anticipation! Or is it the wind? There’s an awful lot of that now isn’t it? And what’s this thing coming toward me very fast? So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide sounding name like ‘Ow’, ‘Ownge’, ‘Round’, ‘Ground’! That’s it! Ground! Ha! I wonder if it’ll be friends with me? Hello Ground!”
Curiously the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias, as it fell, was, ‘Oh no, not again.’ Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly *why* the bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the universe than we do now.”