In times past, members of the masses, those with very little clout to start with, were neatly packed in God and Country. These two cellophanes remain, reminding us to be humble, idealistic and resigned. We work, we pray, we soldier on.
Certain sons and daughters asked to stow their overflow with us so they might follow their dream to far off places. Since I’d begun to clear out the glacial accumulation of stuff from our attic and basement awhile back, inspired by the dismantling of my dad’s place, I was less than aligned to the prospect of yet more stuff. But family can hardly be denied when room can be made.
Mama hadn’t been gone too long when my Dad ended up in rehab. I was in rehab too at the time, where an equanimity of spirit and growing roundness to my form could only mean on thing: I was pregnant.
It happens sometimes, you know, when life’s unredeemed losses pull you down into paths of least resistance? Humans cope by the means available. So there I was, impregnated by a familiar friend I’d relied on in many a tough situation, but never to this degree.
The shaman has been revered by purveyors of culture who link our storied past with a starker spiritual present.
If there’s one place on earth where joy eclipses toil and grief, it’s music.
I like cleanliness.
When our boys were young, their two little hot wheel runaround pals named Ian and Evan moved away.
A few months later, we visited their upstairs apartment in a large brick house painted gray. Wading through the rooms knee deep in randomness, I wondered if I dare leave my boys to play and possibly be swallowed whole by swamps of stuff.
As I recall, I made a flimsy excuse and darted for the door, my sons in tow.
'All the world is somewhere else... I am the mask. I am the bird. I am the animal. I am the spirit... I transcend with the being of the mask.'
Chief Robert Joseph, Kwakwaki'wakw (Kwakiutl), recalling his youthful experience as a ceremonial dancer, 1998
What would make this a perfect day?
Accomplishing tasks... creative work... friendship... earnings... life changing event... humor... acclaim?
Why did I once seek a stage - draw attention to myself? Could be something musicians do; we love to love and that’s how we know to do it.
Artists are the ones we get to gawk at.
There was once a wee child whose parents, in a pique of sound reflection (let us hope) said ‘no’ to his request for a snack.