Translate

Monday, January 14, 2013

“I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry. Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it's just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.” Ray Bradbury




Bobby and his band
The Globe Arena
Stockholm, Sweden
April 5, 2002

Seeing this performance first thing this morning makes me want to seize the day.  If  I do or not remains to be seen.  For now, at this moment, it's enough that it makes me want to.  I love watching Bob's leg action while performing; it's a peculiar and, to me, pleasing, quirk.  I haven't been able to find any information as to whether or not he needs, or at one time needed a cane to help him walk.  It is a fact though, that musicians often develop lower back problems.  Certainly, with Dylan's almost 50 years of nightly stage performances and touring, there would be a high probability of his developing problems that would necessitate the use of a cane.  Add to that equation the injuries he sustained due to a motorcycle accident on July 29, 1966.

The account of the accident he gave to the playwright Sam Shepard, who published it in Esquire as part of a one-act play called "A Short Life Of Trouble aka 'True Dylan".
  “It was real early in the morning on top of a hill near Woodstock,” he told Shepard. “I can’t even remember how it happened. I was blinded by the sun for a second. . . . I just happened to look up right smack into the sun with both eyes and, sure enough, I went blind for a second and I kind of panicked or something. I stomped down on the brake and the rear wheel locked up on me and I went flyin’."



  

Sunday, January 13, 2013

A Walk in the WIld Life

I've decided to lift the ban on color for a while.  After posting my previous entry of Offerings to the Sun, and since it was such a wonderfully bright, sunny and warm day (49 degrees) we decided to take a walk through the wildlife refuge.  I took these pictures with my sweet little cheapo Canon Power Shot.   We weren't supposed to buy gifts for each other this year, but  I broke that deal by making a secret trip to Best Buy where I purchased two identical cameras (mine blue, his silver) then wrapped them, tagged them "from Santa" and put them in our stockings.  It's nice having a camera small and slim enough to slip into my coat pocket.  So far it's been keeping a great charge too.  That's important to me; I hate having to charge a camera each time I want to use it.  The idea for a walk was mutual and spontaneous, 'let's not waste this sunshine' being the motivating factor to get me away from the computer and him away from the television.  On my way out the door I remembered my camera which had been sitting on the mantle, ran back and grabbed it hoping it didn't need a charge.  It didn't. 

These pictures are arranged according to the order in which they were taken on our walk along the trails and paths of the refuge.  Initially, in trying to keep with my new no-color scheme - theme,  I ran the photos through an editing process on an image hosting site to remove the color and replace it with black, white and shades thereof.  But somehow, even though I liked the look, it bothered my conscience to take the color out of such a beautiful day,  it seemed an arrogant and ungrateful thing to do. 


 



Friday, January 11, 2013

Radio Silence - David Remnick on Bob Dylan



New Yorker editor-in-chief David Remnick discusses the career and unique genius of one of his favorite artists—Bob Dylan. Here’s the first installment of the Radio Silence podcast series, complete with historical audio and plenty of music. 
  
"Radio Silence is literature and rock & roll. We produce a print magazine, online content, and live events. As a 501(c)3 nonprofit, we also give free copies of the magazine to high schools and libraries, and we use a portion of our revenue to buy books and musical instruments for kids. No high-quality magazine exists that presents rock music and literature side-by-side and explores their exhilarating relationship."

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Offerings







Wakan Tanka, Great Mystery,
teach me how to trust
my heart,
my mind,
my intuition,
my inner knowing,
the senses of my body,
the blessings of my spirit.
Teach me to trust these things
so that I may enter my Sacred Space
and love beyond my fear,
and thus Walk in Balance
with the passing of each glorious Sun.






Offering to the Sun



So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart.
Trouble no one about their religion;
respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life.

Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend,
even a stranger, when in a lonely place.
Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself.

Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools
and robs the spirit of its vision.

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled
with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep
and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way.
Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.

Chief Tecumseh (Crouching Tiger) Shawnee Nation 1768-1813


When you are in doubt, 
be still, and wait;
when doubt no longer exists for you,
 then go forward with courage.
So long as mists envelop you, be still;
be still until the sunlight pours through
and dispels the mists-- as it surely will.
Then act with courage.

White Eagle
                                                                      

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

so you can't do 32 fouettés .....

 Anna Pavlova 
(Russian): А́нна Па́влова 
 February 12, 1881 – January 23, 1931

Pavlova's enthusiasm often led her astray: once during a performance  her energetic double pique turns led her to lose her balance, and she ended up falling into the prompter's box.  Her weak ankles led to difficulty while performing as the fairy Candide in Petipa's The Sleeping Beauty, leading the ballerina to revise the fairy's jumps en pointe, much to the surprise of the Ballet Master. She tried desperately to imitate the renowned Pierina Legnani, Prima ballerina assoluta of the Imperial Theaters. Once during class she attempted Legnani's famous fouettés, causing her teacher Pavel Gerdt to fly into a rage. He told her to
... leave acrobatics to others. It is positively more than I can bear to see the pressure such steps put on your delicate muscles and the severe arch of your foot. I beg you to never again try to imitate those who are physically stronger than you. You must realize that your daintiness and fragility are your greatest assets. You should always do the kind of dancing which brings out your own rare qualities instead of trying to win praise by mere acrobatic tricks.
Accepting The Intolerable
Tolerating the Unacceptable

 Sometimes we have to tolerate the unacceptable, we have to work around it, until we find a way to eliminate it or make it acceptable. First we have to recognize and acknowledge that a thing, something, is unacceptable, and this is a very difficult first step. The recognition process often begins with a nagging uneasiness which we attempt to shrug off; we have a hunch that something is not quite right but it’s all so confusing and we just can’t seem to sort it out.

 A little further along in the process the nagging sensation becomes more of a physical presence like a headache or a blow to the solar plexus by an unseen fist that tries to knock the wind out of us. We are becoming convinced in increments that we are doing battle with an insidious and unrelenting foe that seems to be right around the corner. It’s all we can do to keep ourselves from pounding on the walls and shouting, “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!” But what is “THIS”?  Until we know what THIS is, we must keep our mouths shut and tolerate It.

 At times we will find ourselves in the minority with the majority trying to persuade us, even pressure us, into believing that the unacceptable is acceptable. “Everything’s cool, man. Just relax.” Or, “Get with the program!” Sometimes the persuasion can be more subtle, we may not even be aware of it. When persuasion grows more aggressive it becomes pressure, and even then we are sometimes not fully aware that “the pressure“ is being applied, or we sense that we are under pressure, but are not certain of its source or who the real perpetrators are. We have things to do, we don’t have time for all the bullshit.

 So we just throw it into the big bag of amorphous, unspecified angst and carry it around thinking that when the time is right we will dump out the contents of the bag and examine, identify and name each article; make a determination of what to keep and what to throw away, what to accept and what not to accept. But the time is never quite right for most of us, and so we tolerate, and therefore accept the unacceptable by default, which is a catch-all term for laziness, ignorance, denial, blind ambition, and  fear.


The Plateau of Functioning



Zhang Daqian
(張大千, 1899-1983), original name Zhang Yuan (張爰) and pseudonym Daqian, was one of the best-known and most prodigious Chinese artists of the twentieth century. He is also regarded by many art experts as one of the most gifted master forgers of the twentieth century. He excelled 
at all types of paintings, and is especially famous for his landscape, as well as lotus paintings.



I prefer to remain where I am, wherever that is, I am happy here as long as people don't try to suck me into their agendas. At times though, it does feel like I am on a slippery slope as far as functioning goes. Without stress, which comes from being pulled in directions I have no interest in going, I function at a level that allows me to pursue my interests, obsessions, bliss.   I like this plateau I am on. It offers an endless 360 degree view. Sometimes, if I leave my little safe haven, to borrow a cup of sugar from a neighbor or something like that, I loose my footing and fall off the cliff. That hurts. I get injured.  After I heal I climb back up and get re-settled in my old familiar surroundings. Then everything's comfy cozy again and I tell myself I can live without sugar. But sugar is sweet and sometimes I get a craving and think "This time I will be more careful and not fall into the abyss of society."  You'd think I would learn, but I have the ability to block out pain and memories of pain, a kind of selective amnesia that allows me to function in spite of a nagging desire not to.  It seems to me that I have a choice: to function or not to function. That is the question.  And sometimes it seems there's a sign on the wall that says, "FUNCTION OR ELSE!" That scares me, so I function. (Leo)

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Lunar Involvement (69 Lines and a Title)


Lunar Involvement  (69 Lines and a Title)

O great moon ass
your bicycle wheels keep
churning down main
street alive with
reluctance when
you apply the brakes
my heart stops and I
hallucinate smooth white
fenders gleaming asteroids
planetary disengagement
from the ordinary evolution
singing relevant phrases
to the hub of your stride
I believe in your orbit
I believe in your fixed
revolution I believe
in your ride your thighs
hum monstrous volumes
neglected by the masters
of harmony who could not
entertain the ratio
of our alliance.

O great moon ass
your siblings burn like
birthday candles weeping
waxy monuments along the
road I hear them crying
fire as they bend their
coiled economy suffers
light expenditures that
eat away the wick of
life’s desire while you
keep on truckin’
haulin’ God’s monopoly
across the stark investiture
of sea and sky combined
your platinum face excites
my spiny sensibility my
finite eyes engrave
deep enamored symphonies
that beg to be released
full measure on your
dark other side where
time recapitulates
through bleak atmosphere.

O great moon ass
keeper of promises
working on the midnight
shift and shifting all the
midnight work onto me
the stars are in my favor
as I act out chronicles
beleaguered and bewitched
in my chrysalis
I blink recognition
yet cling to the carnival
midway swallowing
remorse before it swallows me
I drift under cover
drawn by your light
deep within the canyons
of myself sinking celibate
Making my escape through
the soul's dark night
and the jagged
teeth of time
I arrive once more
inside the jaws of morning
a winged adult.

Leocadia