Play-List

Stingray Nebula

Cocoon Nebula

Playlist:

1. Cassiopeia- Joanna Newsom

2. Bluebeard- Band of Horses

3. Spiraling Shape- TMBG

4. Catch a falling star- Perry Como

5. Jupiter- Gustav Holst

6. Drops of Jupiter- Train

7. Planetarium- Ai Otsuka

All in the Cold Afternoon

Landscape at Twilight- Van Gogh

I spent much of the first snowy day here watching bonus features on our (bluray) Disney's Alice in Wonderland. And because I have a bit of that Seasonal disorder, & need sunlight so very much, I keep meditating on this wonderful image of a golden afternoon, or a golden twilight. Both work for me. Here is an old cartoon I remembered from childhood & a few songs that make me feel warm today.

The Golden Touch

Alice in Wonderland- All in a Golden Afternoon

Midlake- Golden Hour

Day 7- A Song that Reminds me of an Event

So. I only chose one song today. But it reminds me of two events. So there's depth or something to it.

The first day I heard this song was a rather pleasant Spring day in my High School days. I was walking with my friends, Monkey & Shannon (I feel like there were more people perhaps). Monkey bent down & picked up a rather scratched-up looking CD. As it so happens, we were walking to his house. So when we got there he put it in & slowly this song started blasting out & we burst into laughter.

After many years of more or less not thinking of the song, in fact about a year into my Graduate studies, I went out for karaoke at the bar with friends. Several pitchers of beer & many disappointments later (they did not have the songs we most wanted to sing to our colleagues) we settled into this beauty. Whatever words I didn't know before I kind of know now. I remember looking out over the crowd, feeling like they looked mightily confused. & I thought, well that's something.

So without further ado... here it is in all its glory.

Day 6- Songs that remind me of Somewhere

An odd bunch...

My first job started the summer after my Junior year of High School. It was at a Taco John's. I was often a closer. Time feels different while closing down a fast food joint. It slows down & stretches on. There's always more to do... & most often all you have to look forward to is going to sleep & then getting up the next day to do it all again. My colleagues, naturally, would put on the radio during these times. And that summer/year two particular songs received prime rotation on their preferred station.

Hot in Herre- Nelly & Cleanin' Out my Closet- Eminem

As a result, the only song I distinctly remember dancing to at my Senior Prom (which I attended as a double date me & my best friend with the Prom King) was the former of these two songs.

The other songs I seem to link with my High School I link specifically with the gym.

Iron Man- Black Sabbath & All Star- Smash Mouth

The first I played in the Pep band, & the second was sung by someone in my gym class the first week of High School.

From my time in college there are many songs I will always smile fondly on, but there are a few which stand out.

I will ever associate Pfeiffer lounge with the illustrious In the End by Linkin Park.

I will never forget walking back from Dairy Queen with some friends & hearing their rendition of Common People inspired by William Shatner.

& I will always remember the last day before graduation, all the grades in & the official feeling of being done upon us, riding about campus in a friend's car & listening to a song I heard many times that year... Sheep Go To Heaven- Cake... we would often replace the line "goats go to hell" with "goats go to Cornell".

Day 5- Songs that remind me of someone

There's probably a whole mixed cd in my head for most of the people I know. But I'll stick mainly to family...

Puff the Magic Dragon- Peter Paul and Mary & M.T.A.- Kingston Trio

My Dad used to sing/sings for us around the fireplace or a campfire or just at night. He also plays guitar.

The Clapping Song- Shirley Ellis & Just my Imagination-The Temptations

My Mom sang these to us when we were little. Just my Imagination was usually reserved for when we thought someone was knocking at the door, & there ended up being nobody there.

Dreamland Express- John Denver & Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed

We used to sing these together when we were young.

Still Alive- Portal

My brother, husband & I sing this song often in the car. Also it reminds me of the time we created the cake from an in-game recipe (leaving out some suggestions) with Francis.

Never Had a Dream Come True- S Club 7 & Kryptonite- 3 Doors Down

Shannon! One fine Valentine's Day we went to an Applebee's with our friend. After eating a decadent chocolate dessert, I headed for the facilities. As I was washing my hands Never Had a Dream Come True came on the radio. I was overcome with giddiness about its sheer corniness. I'm not sure the others understood what I was talking about at first. We left a tip spread out in the shape of a heart that night... The first time I heard Kryptonite it was up for rotation in Karaoke at Shannon's place. Neither of us really knew the song, so we did our best. We had goofy hand signs & everything, my fault I fear.

Another First Kiss- TMBG

This is my husband's and my song. Our song! Our first dance (really swaying) at our wedding reception was to this song.

Day 4- Songs that make me Sad

these songs make being sad feel like a great & awe-inducing thing...

1) What is Eternal?- Trans Siberian Orchestra

I can still remember the first time this song came on in my brother's car.

2) Everybody Knows- Leonard Cohen

Cohen's voice gets me every time.

3) Hallelujah- Rufus Wainwright (or Leonard Cohen)

I cried when I heard this the first time. Yep. It was while watching Shrek in theater.

4) Sometime Around Midnight- The Airborne Toxic Event

My brother plays this song often. It reminds me of stumbling around drunk in Iowa City, thinking how bright the lights were, & desperately searching for Robert who was getting gyros.

5) As I sat sadly by her side- Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

This song was first introduced to me by a creepy guy. Nevertheless... it has beauty.

6) Fire and Rain- James Taylor

Classic.

Day 3- Songs that make me happy

There are going to be a lot of these...

1) Clint Eastwood- Gorillaz

The first time I heard this song was on a mixed cd my husband (at the time new boyfriend) gave me. I was working at Hardee's in Iowa that summer, & he was spending it in Kansas City. It was a good summer. Then I almost forgot about it until it came on in the car several years later. It was the day after New Year's Day, & my friends were driving us back from Texas. It was a good trip.

2) What a Day for a Daydream- The Lovin' Spoonful

Kind of reminds me of the last song in some vague way. I always think of this song when I smell fresh-cut grass.

3) Tweedlee Dee- Laverne Baker

The first time I had my husband listen to this song we were driving through the country just for kicks on a nice summer evening. We decided to stop at some small-town gas station just to buy bubblegum.

4) My Friend the Doctor- from Dr. Dolittle

5) There is Nothing Like a Dame- from South Pacific

6) I'm a Believer- The Monkees

One of my Mother's favorite bands when she was younger. Classic feel-good song.

7) Rockin' Robin- The Jackson 5

Day 2- My Least Favorites Songs

As a general rule I love all music all genres all groups. I don't have much of an ear for who is in tune, & tend to go for really unique voices with no clue to how the pitch is.

But I strongly dislike propaganda-type songs. Especially, of course, when I disagree with the message. And doubly so if they seem to either have the facts wrong or be twisting the other side's message completely.

The appeal to emotion rather than addressing the logistics, really gets me. Not just that, but appealing to emotions such as those that motivate revenge&discord rather than unity&peace. The claim that the other side must therefore be emotionally deficient as well as clearly wrong...

Here are a few of the songs, up with which I cannot put.

1) Have you forgotten?- Darryl Worley

What better way to make your point than to say those who oppose you must not be patriotic, or have a short memory? We must be right because remember how we felt really awful about that tragedy?

No, Worley, we haven't forgotten; but since you are using a tragedy solely to defend your cause, I would argue that you have forgotten. Ends rant.

Also for some reason they would always play this song at the Subway in Mt Vernon, IA.

2) We've got to stop the Mosque at Ground Zero- Trade Martin

This song bothers me only slightly less. And I think that's only because I didn't have to listen to it playing every time I wanted a sandwich.

Thirty Days of Music

I've decided to do this music blog thing. It strikes me as much fun.

Day 1 Favorite Songs...

A wise man once said that favorites change over time. Also, I am the sort of person who wants it all. So. I think I will share a favorite song from several of my favorite artists. And then, perhaps, discuss briefly why I chose it.

1. Lavern Baker & Jimmy Ricks- You're the Boss

These two have killer voices. Together, oh my! The song is also one of the most supportive-mutual-love-type songs I've heard.

2. The Courage of Others- Midlake

I am really into this band right now. It's my most recently discovered favorite band. I enjoy putting this song on when I am feeling especially weak/emo about my social anxiety. Even though it seemingly promotes shyness it also by the end of the song pushes me past it.

3. Joanna Newsom- Peach Plum Pear

I have loved this singer consistently for six years abouts now. This particular song has much the same appeal to me as the previous song listed. Joanna Newsom has an additional appeal to me because she got me through a dark time in my life. My first exposure to her was also through a CD given to me by a high school friend for xmas. He thought I'd like it, & he is brilliant. (Also this one actually has a pretty cute video.)

4. Louis Armstrong- What A Wonderful World

This man can always make me smile. This song will always make me happy.

5. The Andrews Sisters- Rum and Coca Cola

They rock my world.

So many others... maybe I will get to share some of them in the next thirty days.

Birthday Post, for fun

The Emperor of Ice Cream

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal.
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Wallace Stevens

Also, I'm listening to Midlake today. Balloon maker!

Also, a classic.

A remake of a classic?

A Russian classic...

Article Etiquette

According to little old me.

I am writing this because recently someone I care deeply about received an article that rather upset them. The only explanation for why it was sent to them was "I thought you might be interested". And I am realizing that this is no longer enough when we send an article.

Here is the article, that quite frankly makes my blood boil.

Information has changed, or the availability of it has at least. And the rules, therefore, for what articles to send have also changed. Most of us have enough information being thrown at us every day. And if we don't, we know where to find it. So if information is being sent to us by a friend or loved one, many of us are going to assume that the article is specifically being aimed at us.

1) The information pertains to a clearly established discussion that we have entertained in the past. Or can be readily seen to be connected to something we are openly interested in.

2) The audience the article is aimed at is one that the recipient of the article obviously falls into. If it is an opinion piece aimed at "you" the "you" should be the recipient.

3) Otherwise it is acceptable to send an article that pertains more to the sender's interests or specifies the sender as the audience.

4) Some combination of the above.

If an article does not fall under the above categories some more explanation is required when it is sent. Even if it does fall under these categories clarification could not hurt, & could get a discussion rolling.

A short clarification such as "I know this doesn't pertain to you. But I was wondering what you would think." Or "I was appalled by the conclusions, but I thought there were some interesting nuggets." Or "I know this doesn't pertain to you, but it is a cause I am passionate about." Or "This person voices my ideas precisely. What do you think?" Or something...

If you don't care enough about an article to take the time to briefly explain your stance on it, then you might ask if it is really worth recommending to someone you care about.

I would thank you to at least give some consideration to using this particular system of etiquette when sending articles.

Complexity leads to Simplicity

Eric Berlow: How complexity leads to simplicity | Video on TED.com

I've been realizing a trend in myself for a while now. A dislike for the cutting corners that goes on in the name of simplicity. A love of the order created when people take the time to clarify. Take the time, in other words, to recognize the complexities of pretty much any situation they are in.

Especially when talking to someone I don't know, much of my anxiety stems from the vast expanses of unknowability that can lead to countless misunderstandings. I don't know your language. I don't know the emotional triggers. I don't know the intellectual hot spots that really make you tick. This can make social situations feel like a field full of bombs just waiting for bumbling fools like me to step into them.

People seem almost dogmatically to avoid directness. People like to play games with me. Why does manipulation seem so much more attractive than forthrightness? Because we are, most of us, cowards.

We'd rather sense out where the bombs are through careful exploration than risk asking for a map. We'd rather assume people should be able to read where our bombs are, after all aren't the big signs clear enough, than to help someone else find the way.

One problem is that many of us can't read the signs. Another problem is that often those who know the signs are there can spot them, whereas they don't seem so large to people who don't know us.

I've often been accused of being manipulative. Most of us are to some extent. But as for me, I am trying to explain myself. I am searching for clarity wherever possible.

I realize that there aren't as many bombs as I fear there are. But I will be much more comfortable if you are open with me. Trust me. As a kid. There were a lot of bombs, & I stepped on them a lot. And the result was quite literally an explosion of rage. I am still recovering from this. Quite possibly I will always be.

Window

I find that there is nothing more beautiful to me than a cat in a window. The cool of spring, the robins bobbing just out of reach, the cat alert. There is an awakening & tension of the senses in the spring that works in odd ways with the exhalation & relief brought by softer times.

This particular cat also likes to sit in front of the tv screen when we are watching. As if the screen were another type of window, which it is. And I say to the cat something my Grandpa Elof used to often say to me as I sat inches from his tv screen, "You make a better door than a window."

And I find myself drawn to the Swedish poet Tomas Transtromer, one of the many poets I feel should not be read in an academic setting but rather a meditative one. So here are a few tidbits I wish to share with you...

The Half-Made Heaven

Despair breaks its course.

Anxiety breaks its course.

The vulture breaks his flight.

Dazzling light pours forth-

even the ghosts take a gulp.

Our images, red-painted beasts

in the glacial cave, see day.

Everything stares nakedly around.

We walk in the sun by the hundreds.

Each one is a half-open door

that leads to a room for all.

Unfathomable ground under us.

Water glitters between the trees.

The lake is a window into the earth.

Stones

Stones that we have thrown I hear

falling, glass-clear through the years. In the valley

fly the moment's chaotic

acts shrieking from

treetop to treetop. Made mute

in thinner air than that of the present, they glide

like swallows over mountain

and mountain, until they

reach the farthest plains

at the edges of existence. There fall

all our achievements

glass-clear

to no bottom

except within ourselves.

May the Force Be With You

If you were wondering what the results of my search for religion were, you need look no further than the Tao of Pooh. That will explain everything & nothing.

For more Yoda, try here or here. For some A.A. Milne, try this.

*brushes hands together & heads off on another expotition.*

More Shadows

And so I have moved on from honey to shadow. And when it comes to shadow, only one book comes to my mind. I read Marilynne Robinson's Housekeeping half a decade ago, & have no solid memories of the book. I do have a vague recollection that it was filled with shadows & reflections & isolation. But no more so than every day life is, merely more than books usually are.

Here are a few passages I rediscovered today dealing with shadows in a more theoretical way, though mostly what I recall is her ability to describe shadowy scenes.

"I hated waiting. If I had one particular complaint, it was that my life seemed composed entirely of expectation. I expected - an arrival, an explanation, an apology. There never had been one, a fact I could have accepted, were it not true that, just when I got used to the limits and dimensions of one moment, I was expelled into the next and made to wonder again if any shapes hid in its shadows. That most moments were substantially the same did not detract at all from the possibility that the next moment might be utterly different. And so the ordinary demanded unblinking attention. Any tedious hour might be the last of its kind."

And...

"To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? And here again is a foreshadowing -- the world will be made whole. For to wish for a hand on one's hair is all but to feel it. So whatever we may lose, very craving gives it back to us again."

Eleven Shadow Shows

Not-to-be-missed. Also, not to be consumed in one sitting. When you get a spare five-ten minutes try one or two.

Also, check out theaterclouds. The above picture is just one of the beautiful images there & her process is worth reading about.

1. Moon- Solo dance by Yang LiPing

2. The Tranquility of Shadows

3. Shadow Play- Third Annual Belle Epoque Party

4. Forest Path

5. Sbek Thom, Khmer Shadow Theatre

6. Chinese Shadow Theater

7. Sombras Chinas

8. De Rosa- Robin Song

9. Owly Shadow Puppets

10. Jabberwocky

11. Little Dragon- Twice

To Starting Over

My words could palm the moment and walk-

away. But they don’t. They sit

patient on the scrap, soaking

deeper in. Embedding. Surveying

the lay of the land. They peek

coquettishly over the edge, wink

& glimmer momentarily, try

to catch you unaware.

A mountain in the landscape, waits

for your flag. And that flag yearns

for your coat of arms. And your arms

yearn for the stretch & strain of weary

climb. And all of this

my words would have you

know.

My words would like nothing

more than you,

kind stranger, to bend

and scoop them up. To peruse

& take to your breast &

to your heart. To scratch them

out & improve upon them. In

the ways that you know, the secret-

you-ways.

When you reach finished

with them, they ask nothing more.

Crumple the page & misremember

or disregard. You owe them

nothing. We have hardly

met. Our secret hands brushed

briefly. Your mountains are your own

to find.

Rough Winter Poetry

Rough Winter Poetry

I sent my words off to a friend yesterday, & he is still inclined

to talk to me.

Though the tea is steep & the fire is wisdom-wide. We bank

& bunker beneath a roof.

We snuggle & sip & stir.

Stir deeply & slowly & always

with a whisper of honeyed cream.

We stir when it needs it. We stir when we like

circles. We stir when our boots go on & the road is

snow behind & beneath & before us.

It snowed before there were

us. It snows now.

Time is a bay leaf in a bowlful of borscht, waiting

to burst on a spoon's journey

to our tongues.

Shared dreams are

of Vancouver. A name unnoticed

& unrealized by us for so

many years.

We've had our share

of dreams, under

the covers, far from the snow.

We've made out in a snow

bank when love was

young.

We've made it

over a snow hill in our beige

car tonight.

If only I had his way

with words. I would sing to you more

sweetly. I would sing to you like kettle

corn popping.

Ripping at the kernel.

Chomping at my

bit these days. My tongue sore

& scalded by hot

cocoa.

My lips chapping on the outside

of my words.

Splitting in the middle, every other winter

it seems.

But this winter there is balm. This winter

there is milk & honey lotion. This winter there is

your warm palm pressed against the cold

steering wheel & later

my face.

As if, in the if, of if my heart were to break, there would be

you peering into the microwave prepared

to not only enjoy it but also to make me glad

it did.

Broken, from so much

warm-driftiness in such a drafty-dark

world.

A cold stone

put into an oven that is already up

to temp.

Your temples spell the spilling

of my words.

Daydreamed worlds become holy

from my musky mouth upon

your ears.

It has been so long since I brewed

this tea. It has been so long

silence grew within me.

So long silence,

now. Go the ways of longing

for my lover's aura & kiss.

Just so. I felt

the evening draw

its curtains just now.

I felt the sheepskin

on my shins. I felt the love

seat surrounding us. I felt how just

then we said everything in one laugh.

How the yogurt melts into

the beets. How the fresh dill fanned

its feathers round my fingers an hour

ago.

This borscht is full of fringe & lace & root.

With these bellies full we go on more.

The pull of the impolite

wind can't take

the woolen mittens away.

Tonight the wind is

full of crisp. Tonight

the fire will crack

the logs. Tonight there

will be an opening.

Tonight we spill.

Catnip Crafts

I made these three cat toys out of old jeans, scraps, & catnip.

Hilarity ensued. After a long bout of being kept

from each other our cats are free to socialize again.

Keimon is now claw-less.

& Kiseki has made a full recovery

from her infected wounds & irritated eye.

Keimon wants to eat these toys

& Kiseki wants to snuggle with them.

They caught onto what I was doing,

or at least that it involved catnip,

& they were playing with them as soon as I was done making them.

I wish I could offer you my video of the shenanigans to follow...

Hopefully I can get it uploaded in the near future.

Nancy Elizabeth - Place to Shelter

I feel so far I have been reaching my goals of being more active & centered this year. Of course, we aren't even through a month yet, so we will see what happens.

I see that one of my friends has put up an article about meditating. I have been trying to find ways of meditating.

I do find writing to be a form of meditation, but I think it also performs a number of other functions that sometimes get in the way of its meditative qualities. I feel the same about cooking.

I only feel truly meditative when I am out in nature. I need to find some way of meditating when going out into a forest or beside a body of water is not an option.

I think folk music helps. So maybe I need to listen to nature tracks. As I understand it, that is one of the primary uses of such tracks, to relax.

I also plan to read about different forms of prayer and philosophies of prayer and make progress on thinking about where prayer might have a place in my life.

So really in addition to becoming more active socially, mentally, and physically... I want to re-find my faith. I want to have some set of "religious" type beliefs. Though, to be honest, I think the word religion is almost synonymous with corporation. I use corporations, and maybe promote a few, but ultimately I don't trust a single one of them. I feel the same about religion, and religious affiliations.

I want to find my own faith, even if that does sound a bit new age. I have always had new age leanings, methinks. And I have always fought against who I am.

That is what I worked on last year, not fighting who I am, and I made great progress. But I need to continue this. Being who I am bravely and boldly is the only way I can continue to add to the world my creativity and light. And adding that positive energy to the world is me acting on my faith, I know that much so far.

I mostly have been avoiding thoughts on the whole matter. At least conscious thoughts. I think I've been leaving it to a deeper level of my mind to turn over and revolve around and come down some path in.

I put so much into words. That which I have faith in cannot be put into words. But this is no excuse for not trying to figure out the words and methods for acting on my faith and explaining my faith to others. Explaining faith is not the same as explaining the gods.

Primarily, I think I am called to worship by living a richer and fuller life.

I am assuming for now, until I know otherwise, that this is all I get & I don't even get to know when it will be gone. I can't mess this up. This is my chance. This is my chance to maybe have free will.

Star-making

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral,

begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.

Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.

Through violence you may murder the liar,

but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.

Through violence you may murder the hater,

but you do not murder hate.

In fact, violence merely increases hate.

So it goes.

Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,

adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness:

only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Recently, while in Ames, my husband and I picked up a few wooden stars at this fine shop. It amazes me every year, right after Christmas, how many stars are marked down 50 or even 75 percent. In honor of MLK I sewed four more out of some lovely fabric my mother-in-law gifted me.

This was also inspired by the friends we were visiting in Ames, who also had stars hanging from their ceiling.

I've been hearing many things about the stars of late. How our star-signs have changed. How new stars are made. Who knew? Green blobs of all things. It reminds me of a quote: "I tell you: one must still have chaos in oneself, to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: you have still chaos in yourselves." -Nietzsche

And isn't that how we get through the winters, both the metaphorical ones and the real ones? Through star-gazing and making our own star-inspired light?

As for me, there is something wild deep-within that keeps me going when I am feeling dim-witted and dull.

Here are a few songs that bring me some light on these dark winter nights. Here & Here.

Freedom of Speech

Please listen to this enchanting song. And while you're at it, check out this fascinating system.

Today I am grateful that I can make words come out of my mouth. Today I am grateful that I am allowed to do so. That throughout my life, I had that right, even when I was (sometimes still am) too scared to use it.

I am grateful for the word "no" and "it" and "just" and "corazon" and "pithy" and "brindled" and "mother" and many more...

They feel good in my mouth and on my lips and in my throat.

Today I sound my barbaric yawp.

Today I read again (am always reading again) and I read for the first time... out loud.

For the Fun

Today I baked and frosted a sugar cookie replica of one of my favorite games. For those of you not in the know, this be Settlers of Catan.

Of course, midway through the project I discovered that somebody else had already done this (albeit with gingerbread) only better. Ah, well.

Also. My husband and I have been indulging in an episode of Fraggle Rock now and then for a while now. In one episode Doc decides to figure out how to sew a button on a fried egg, after rediscovering the thought in his diary.

He spends all day on this project and is rather miffed when his friend on the phone asks why. He's an inventor. That's why. Or as he puts it, "What do you mean why? I haven't even figured out how yet... well maybe to fasten it to the toast so it won't fall off. That's why!"

So in that spirit I intend to sew a button on a fried egg. Hopefully my eggs will turn out like this. And I intend to make cookie buttons. I'll probably just use cooking twine to sew them on.

Honestly, I think it has been a tough work week for my husband. I think this sugar cookie surprise will make him smile. That's why!

Also. Consider watching this amusing song from the same episode. He sings the opposite message later.

Snowy, Snowy, Snowy

It snowed most of the day, big fluffy flakes outside our ground-level windows.

I sorted and tidied my desk and my husband's desk. They were getting pretty sloppy. And now I have moved a few things that I used to keep on my desk, and I actually have a 8X10 workspace. Just big enough to keep notes...

Cleaned a few other rooms as well. Chicken bones steamed on the stove all day, simmering into what smells to be a delicious & hearty broth.

First day spent in the apartment alone in about a month. My brother is back to his final semester of undergrad.

It felt so snug & significant.

I listened to folk songs all day long.

Baked chicken Parmesan from some of the leftover chicken from yesterday's roast. Also, broiled some eggplant. Only ten minutes to a tasty treat!

Happy for the warmth & the light provided by the antique lamp. Decided I'd share pictures here. Enjoy!

Nessun Dorma

Woke up feeling like there needs to be more compassion in the world. Another shooting. This time in Arizona and the same stuff is being said on the forum as with the high school shooting in Omaha (which by the way happened at the school my sister teaches at).

People can't cope until they make everything distant. We want to blame someone. We want to make some kind of stand against this. We want to make all the real people involved in this tragedy nothing more than tropes of their former selves. The senator is just a senator in a sick story. The child is just a child. And the killer is just a nutjob. We could all get off so easily.

A few of my friends are up in arms about how political this is being made out to be. How people on both sides are blaming this killer for being from the other side. How sickening it is that we can't just understand that he was a crazy nutjob.

As if the flaw were in his logic or in his grasp on reality. He understood reality and the consequences of his actions enough to get a gun and kill people point blank. His logic may have been sick and twisted, but it isn't logic that makes a killer. It's lack of compassion, lack of love of life, plain and simple.

One of my friends went so far as to say that the response to the tragedy sickened him almost as much as the tragedy. That is how much this has become a distanced story rather than a reality. It's bullshit.

Hundreds of people who are outraged and traumatized enough by this event enough to practice their freedom of speech albeit in a haphazard way is actually somehow reassuring to me. Doesn't anybody else see it this way? Not my friend.

Somehow that practice of free correspondence by confused and sometimes very outspoken, but also honestly grieving and concerned citizens, can be compared to the point blank killing of innocent people? There's a leap in logic for you.

Logic will make fools of us all. It is a slippery little thing. But belief, specifically belief in the value of human life, downright compassion and empathy and feeling, would rarely let us kill. True feeling is what can save us from this mess. Seeing the situation as the situation it is. Seeing the killer as a f**king killer and not just another nutjob.

People are convinced that anyone who kills is crazy. I am convinced that many killers are too dependent upon logic and cold hard facts. Too many already see the taking of human lives as a logical way to raise attention for their sick causes.

That's another, and I would argue smaller, tragedy. He won. He isn't a killer, rather he's crazy to these people. And everybody is talking about what he wanted them to talk about. That's not craziness that led to these actions. That was passion for a cause rather than compassion for the people he was shooting. It was logic that failed here.

I am sick of logic being praised in this society. I am especially sick of emotion being suppressed. And I feel that the people on these forums are expressing genuine emotion, but they think they have to do it in these logical arguments against a specific evil.

Even I find myself turning this whole thing into a battle between logic and compassion versus the real tragedy it is.

I think that in the end the forum commentators I most agree with are the ones that state the obvious. This is a tragedy and all we can do is pray. What prayer means to each of us is different.

For me prayer is meditating on the reality of this situation in a state of empathy and trying to cope with it. To me the end thing I will take away from this is a renewed conviction that I need to spread forgiveness, peace, and (once again) compassion. For me I don't feel the need to blame anyone but the killer, and I definitely don't feel the need to excuse his actions in any way shape or form.

I don't know why I read all these comments. Probably because it is the perfect observation window into the human race. People judging people they never met, instead of coping with their own grief. I'm not saying I condone, but I do think it is a natural part of the grieving process.

It shows that in a world of increasing apathy these people care enough to spend some of their time talking about these issues with strangers.

Yeah, on one level people can be frustrating. But on another level this only shows that these people care and are trying their best to process and learn from these events. It's human. We need to not suppress our humanity. We need to embrace it. Or we'll have more and more tragedies caused by slightly unstable people, fed with faulty logic, and lacking a firm faith in the value of the human race.

Twenty-Eleven

I have rearranged every room in our cozy apartment, and made some improvement in the process.

One intricate brass antique lamp salvaged from my parents' basement storage room. It used to be a kerosene lamp but was converted some time ago to an electric lamp. It brings light to our living room.

The lamp that was in our living room, given to us by my husbands parents, is now in the game room. It's smaller orb of light encompasses the game table perfectly.

One new lamp from the Menards across the street, a bit masculine if you ask me, but both convenient and pleasant next to our bed. Also, my old childhood dresser, I painted it blue sometime in high school, is now in our bedroom. As well as some lovely fabric used for curtains!

All of the cupboards have been rearranged to accommodate my ever growing collection of dishes.

All is new and bright in our household.

2010 was a year of beginning. My hope a year ago was that 2010 would be a year of beginning my adult life. That I would reach out and become more brave. I had no idea how far I would come in this year. Looking back, from this perspective I can see that my hopes were realized. I have become more brave. I have learned how to budget and manage. I have writ pages and pages and pages. I have read and I have learned and I have seen more of the world. I have listened to a broader range of music, and found many more musical loves.

In many ways all I could hope for 2011 is that it would continue what I started in 2010. That should tell you how fully 2010 lived up to my expectations.

In 2011 I would like to put together a new body of poetry & make steps toward publishing a few. I have considered myself unworthy of publication in the past, even to the point of rejecting my own chapbook for self-publication, but that is full of silly fear and I can do better than that. This is my career. This is my job. And this pursuit is enough. This is how I choose to live my life.

My ultimate hope for 2011 is that I can be more active. Socially, physically, & mentally. But I also hope to temper this activity with genuine meditation and a calm center. It's a lot to hope for, but "faint heart never won fair lady" or something, something, optimism...

My Life as A Mermaid

"Riding the waves, this mermaid knows she can find her tranquility at the crest of a frothy wave."

So says Lisa Victoria on the back of the painting my good friends gave me for xmas. I love the optimism captured in this piece. And I love mermaids. And I love that Lisa Victoria illustrates children's books. Wouldn't you want her to illustrate yours?

Indeed, someone put it to me recently: why don't you write children's books. I do have an undying appreciation for them. The main reason I don't write such things, is I fear that I lack the illustrative powers that I think are so essential for a children's book. So if you would like to team up with me for such an adventure, consider yourself cordially invited.

On a side note, I think it's a shame that many stories and books are so dumbed down for children nowadays. For example, the Little Mermaid fell from Hans Christian Andersen's heavy-hitting, intricate, eloquent masterpiece to a simplified version of itself with a happy ending. Try this beginning on for size:

FAR out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects. We must not imagine that there is nothing at the bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most singular flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of which are so pliant, that the slightest agitation of the water causes them to stir as if they had life. Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches, as birds fly among the trees here upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands the castle of the Sea King. Its walls are built of coral, and the long, gothic windows are of the clearest amber. The roof is formed of shells, that open and close as the water flows over them. Their appearance is very beautiful, for in each lies a glittering pearl, which would be fit for the diadem of a queen.

And now. If you want to read more, find yourself here.

On an unrelated note. I had a dream, two nights since, where my husband and I were living in a giant shell. It was sort of a cross between Doctor Dolittle's pink snail, a nautilus, and an urchin. It was constantly changing, but we enjoyed the change. And incidentally, if you really want to see a shell-house look no further.

And because I could never tire of Laura Veirs and her many sea-songs, please enjoy!

New Year

All the roads lead back to home. Here I am. Happy again to start over.

(Are you getting tired of bees and honey yet? I'm not. And they just keep popping up everywhere. I didn't even realize they were in this song until after I posted it.)