TRACI L. SLATTON
Author Blog
I own all of Komilla Sutton‘s books on Vedic astrology. They are exceptionally well-written, clear, and enjoyable to read. This new book provides insight into the esoteric mansions of the Moon. It’s a must read for anyone interested in the science of light and Eastern mysticism.
A 5 star book!
As an author, I want information about my books to be freely available on the internet. I’ve also seen firsthand how internet presence, especially in the form of reviews, can drive book sales.
I started with a sweet little site through the Author’s guild. Worked good. Then I wanted something snazzier. So I learned iWeb and built a more elaborate author website.
Then, well, iWeb was decommissioned. So I bought Rapidweaver and educated myself in that, and at the same time figured out that I needed web hosting. My first foray into that was with a service that was badly organized, expensive, and not user-friendly. Then a friend told me about Bluehost.
From the word “Go,” Bluehost offered tremendous customer service. Switching from the old hosts to Bluehost was easier than I dreamt possible, and help was available by phone, live chat, and email 24 hours a day.
A few months ago, I got a little miffed because it seemed like my server kept going down. Whatever that was, the issue seems to have resolved itself, and the techs couldn’t have been kinder and more apologetic.
Recently I have again had reason to appreciate Bluehost. After appalling email harassment by someone who was also ordering gifts online and sending them with my name and personal email, I decided to beef up my internet security as best I could. Bluehost technicians walked me through adding filters to my email accounts and blocking IP’s.
I decided to retire my old Blogger blog that I’ve had for years in favor of a blog on Bluehost. I installed a wordpress blog on my bluehost account, imported the old Blogger posts, and redirected to the new one. Once again, Bluehost techs were available at all times of the night and day to offer support and advice.
Today a technician got a little too eager to help, spied an open ticket that should have been closed, and rearranged the settings for this new blog page. For a few hours, there was a chaos of “404 Website unavailable” pages, until I got on the phone with a different tech and straightened it out.
It hasn’t been quick to get things back the way they’re supposed to be, but the problem did arise from commendable zeal on a technician’s part. It shows how much Bluehost wants its customers to be happy. And the tech who helped repair the issue was absolutely lovely and polite and a pleasure to work with. I was really grateful for his patience and skill.
I recommend Bluehost to anyone.
This post is a shout out to Jason Crandell on Yogaglo.com.
I’ve blogged about other fantastic Yogaglo teachers before; this post is pure praise for Jason Crandell, whose thoughtful classes are a high point of my yoga practice.
Crandell is unusually articulate not only about the body, but also with the body. His instructions are intelligent and clear and human, a pleasure to follow. His classes often focus on specific areas of the body and I always come away from them with a new appreciation and new understanding of my hamstrings or my side body. A particular favorite was a class about the motions of the spine; another prized class is one that concentrates on steady, rhythmic breath.
I like a yoga class that is strong, steady, supple, rhythmic, and well-constructed, and Crandell always delivers. Check him out at yogaglo.com and at jasonyoga.com . My week isn’t complete with a few of his classes to give me ever more insight into my own body.
This post gives the link for our friend Carlo’s movie.
http://www.soniceditions.com/video.php
Sabin’s boyhood friend Carlo Pescatori in Venice is one of those multi-talented people who juggles talents and projects. Here’s one of his most interesting projects, catalogueing photographs of celebrities. Check it out….
In the wake of recent cyber-harassment and the unlawful impersonation of me by an unauthorized person–who also impersonated an officer of the court to me–I have banned large swathes of IP addresses from my websites.
If you find yourself blocked from access to my websites, and you are an individual with only benign intentions, then please accept my apologies.
The internet, and email, and technology itself is an extraordinary gift. It can also be used to harm people. I am taking steps to protect myself.
If you are someone who enjoys reading my blog from time to time or who has stumbled upon it accidentally, then Welcome! And a lovely day to you.
Book by Diane Keaton, A Review
Today I slathered on several layers of Elta MD sunblock and even still, when I traipsed off to the beach, I wore a big brimmed hat. By the time I arrived at the long golden stretch of Cape Cod sand, I had wrapped my daughter’s long cotton bathing suit cover-up around my head and the hat, to prevent any errant rays of sun from reaching my face.
Not that the sun light wasn’t delicious, because it was: honeyed over and lavendered under, in that intoxicating Cape Cod way that delights painters. Pores all over my body opened to suck it in. But the sun light does things to skin, you see, crepey, wrinkly things that are to be avoided when you’re not a spring chicken anymore. And I am a 50 year old woman.
So it was with amusement and self-reflection and an understanding that has started to seep in with my alarming half-centennial mark that I read Let’s Just Say It Wasn’t Pretty by Diane Keaton. This book delves into matters of aging and having to redefine oneself as the temporal body decays around the immortal soul. That last bit, about the soul, that’s pure Traci Slatton, by the way, not Keaton.
It was surprising to me to read how critical Ms. Keaton is of her own looks. I’ve always found her beautiful. Extraordinary, really. It made me feel sort of tender toward her. I think of how critical I’ve always been of myself–looking in the mirror at my flaws instead of my grace notes–and I wasn’t a famous actress who was on display all the time.
Ms. Keaton’s reflections on, oh, eyes and hair and the polymorphous perversity embedded within the larger idea of beauty were interesting. The narrative was interwoven with memories and analysis of her family, her parents and her children, as if to know herself is always done in relationship with her loved ones. I expected more about her work, especially from a woman who never married.
There is some of that self-involvement which so many actresses, especially famous ones, seem to inhabit. It’s their all-encompassing ground of being just as fishes live in the sea. I could forgive it in this book because there’s such good reverie, and because Diane Keaton is a kind of pioneer. She holds a lamp and stands ahead of me on the scary but devoutly-to-be-desired road of getting older and older.
So yes, the book is good, not perfect, and worth reading.
