snowy ice frosts the branches
budding for the spring
photo from Onset, MA February 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Winter beauty, part 2...
snowy ice frosts the branches
budding for the spring
photo from Onset, MA February 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Blizzard, shmizzard.
In case anyone is wondering, this is NOT what it currently looks like in coastal New England.
(Photo: Snow-bound trees in Wareham, MA - December 2009)
Haiku for a snowstorm
tiny snowflakes melt
ethereal, translucent
on the looking glass
-----------------------
snowflake swirls gently
through the deepening silence
enchanted morning
-----------------------
Haiku for a snowstorm. and a meeting with a pompous consultant.
ethereal, translucent
on the looking glass
-----------------------
snowflake swirls gently
through the deepening silence
enchanted morning
-----------------------
Haiku for a snowstorm. and a meeting with a pompous consultant.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Music, a magic beyond all we do here....
JK Rowling, author of the phenomenally popular Harry Potter books, has Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore speaking those words in the first book of the mega-watt series. A worthy sentiment that is subsequently completely ignored, as music plays virtually no part in the books or the plotline. Small snippets are included in the movies (which, as any Potter fan is happy to explain at length, do deviate from the books in some rather conspicuous ways), but any music heard directly by the characters (I am excluding, for the moment, the movie scores) is incidental. As a musician, that made me a little sad, but I can't really call JKR out on it. After all, she got millions of people to read, among generations that would not have picked up a book they weren't forced to. She can't solve all the world's problems. (But, perhaps in her next series... hint, hint)
Accepted treatment protocols for my type of cancer involve ingesting radioactive isotopes that ablate (kill) the cancerous cells from the inside-out. However, the treatment leaves the patient radioactive for several months, and for the first 7 days, I had to be in isolation from anyone. Anything I used had to be segregated, and what couldn't be thoroughly rinsed down (ie, books) had to be kept separate for 3 months before others could handle them again. In an effort to keep myself sane (one can only watch so much mindless TV), I decided to re-read the Harry Potter series, in order. It took me almost the entire week to finish, which allowed me to simply put those books in a lined bag and leave them at the back of the closet until January. I hadn't read the books since the final one had been published, and I was reminded again of all the wonderful details of Ms. Rowlings' imagination had to be chopped in the interests of the movies. If your only experience with the Potter-verse is the movies, I strongly encourage you to take the time to READ THE BOOKS. This is not a slam against the movies, which I think are quite well done; it's simply that the books are better. In the history of movies-from-books, I challenge anyone to find a movie that is better than its original source book. In recent memory, the closest example I can come up with is The Color Purple, which I would classify "as good as" the original novel. Even then, it lost some things in translation to the silver screen.
But I started talking about music. As I metioned in my "tweet" last night, I had the good fortune of being 1 of only 5 musicians at the local seisun. This was due, I'm sure, to the Superbowl, but since I am not a football fan, I couldn't have been less interested in "the big game." I only learned who was even playing from talking to people at the pub last night. (But when spring training starts, I warn you, there may be more baseball-related blogs than I originally intended.)
So there I was, in a room with 4 other musicians who were, in no particular order, 3 recording artists (one a former Grammy nominee) and a singer from Ireland who has a wealth of traditional old sean nos songs that the Smithsonian archives would envy. And me. And maybe a dozen or so audience members (again, the Superbowl was on). Normally all those numbers are at least doubled, and it's not as intimidating to participate because there's a wider range of experience and talent. It was only marginally easier for me that I was a "regular" at the seisun before my treatments began, and had gotten very positive feedback from audience and other regulars; also the fact that two of the "professional" musicians have known me since I was a child allowed the butterflies to ease somewhat. Still, rather humbling to be in such phenomenal company. Also humbling to know that I held my own in the song swapping. To have a Grammy-nominated musician (who is, quite honestly, one of the most incredibly talented people I've ever had the pleasure of listening to) ask the origins of the songs I did, and ask me to come back more frequently, was amazing.
As I was undergoing surgery and treatment this summer, I began re-evaluating my priorities. I think it's something anyone with a potentially terminal illness does in varying degrees. I thought about my writing (which I'd all but abandoned), music (which I had taken up again about 18 months previously), art (again, mostly abandoned) and theatre (which I had also begun to do again, with a local community theatre). I thought about what I wanted my life to be, and how to blend that better with the life my circumstances require me to live. This blog, and another (work-related) blog, along with a few more tendrils of artistic endeavor, have been born out of those musings.
So I hope that you'll join me on this journey of self-discovery. Re-evaluate your own priorities. Shape your own future a little better. And most importantly, in the words of Patrick Dennis (quoting his "Auntie Mame"), "Live, live, live! Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death!"
Accepted treatment protocols for my type of cancer involve ingesting radioactive isotopes that ablate (kill) the cancerous cells from the inside-out. However, the treatment leaves the patient radioactive for several months, and for the first 7 days, I had to be in isolation from anyone. Anything I used had to be segregated, and what couldn't be thoroughly rinsed down (ie, books) had to be kept separate for 3 months before others could handle them again. In an effort to keep myself sane (one can only watch so much mindless TV), I decided to re-read the Harry Potter series, in order. It took me almost the entire week to finish, which allowed me to simply put those books in a lined bag and leave them at the back of the closet until January. I hadn't read the books since the final one had been published, and I was reminded again of all the wonderful details of Ms. Rowlings' imagination had to be chopped in the interests of the movies. If your only experience with the Potter-verse is the movies, I strongly encourage you to take the time to READ THE BOOKS. This is not a slam against the movies, which I think are quite well done; it's simply that the books are better. In the history of movies-from-books, I challenge anyone to find a movie that is better than its original source book. In recent memory, the closest example I can come up with is The Color Purple, which I would classify "as good as" the original novel. Even then, it lost some things in translation to the silver screen.
But I started talking about music. As I metioned in my "tweet" last night, I had the good fortune of being 1 of only 5 musicians at the local seisun. This was due, I'm sure, to the Superbowl, but since I am not a football fan, I couldn't have been less interested in "the big game." I only learned who was even playing from talking to people at the pub last night. (But when spring training starts, I warn you, there may be more baseball-related blogs than I originally intended.)
So there I was, in a room with 4 other musicians who were, in no particular order, 3 recording artists (one a former Grammy nominee) and a singer from Ireland who has a wealth of traditional old sean nos songs that the Smithsonian archives would envy. And me. And maybe a dozen or so audience members (again, the Superbowl was on). Normally all those numbers are at least doubled, and it's not as intimidating to participate because there's a wider range of experience and talent. It was only marginally easier for me that I was a "regular" at the seisun before my treatments began, and had gotten very positive feedback from audience and other regulars; also the fact that two of the "professional" musicians have known me since I was a child allowed the butterflies to ease somewhat. Still, rather humbling to be in such phenomenal company. Also humbling to know that I held my own in the song swapping. To have a Grammy-nominated musician (who is, quite honestly, one of the most incredibly talented people I've ever had the pleasure of listening to) ask the origins of the songs I did, and ask me to come back more frequently, was amazing.
As I was undergoing surgery and treatment this summer, I began re-evaluating my priorities. I think it's something anyone with a potentially terminal illness does in varying degrees. I thought about my writing (which I'd all but abandoned), music (which I had taken up again about 18 months previously), art (again, mostly abandoned) and theatre (which I had also begun to do again, with a local community theatre). I thought about what I wanted my life to be, and how to blend that better with the life my circumstances require me to live. This blog, and another (work-related) blog, along with a few more tendrils of artistic endeavor, have been born out of those musings.
So I hope that you'll join me on this journey of self-discovery. Re-evaluate your own priorities. Shape your own future a little better. And most importantly, in the words of Patrick Dennis (quoting his "Auntie Mame"), "Live, live, live! Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death!"
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Beef bourguignon and other pretentions
I'm wondering how pretentious it is to have beef bourguignon for lunch? Is it made better or worse by the fact that it's (homemade) leftover beef bourguignon? How about that I'm drinking diet coke with it, instead of the obligatory burgundy or beaujolais? In the end, it doesn't matter, because it's as delicious leftover as it was fresh, and I'm not going to stop eating it just because I'm afraid of a few pretentions.
It's not my intention to turn this into a foodie blog, but I am something of a foodie, so it's going to sneak in from time to time. I love good wine, good beer and good food. Usually, it's far simpler fare than Julia Child's beef bourguignon recipe (she did have a penchant for complicated recipes, although to her credit, she somehow made us believe that we could follow them - in the words of Julie Powell, "because goddammit, if Julia did it, so could we.")... no, a "normal" lunch for me is far more likely to be bread, cheese, veg and fruit than anything found in the pages of a cookbook. My coworkers think I'm a little nuts, as they microwave their lean cuisines and hot pockets, while I'm standing in our office kitchenette slicing avocado wedges and spreading chevrie on a baguette. But at the end of the day, I know most of what has gone into my body, and it's not chemical preservatives that I can't pronounce. Except for what's in the diet coke, and the odd Konditor Meister pastry, of course. ;)
I do sometimes get a little pretentious when I'm having folks over for a meal. I have developed a reputation as a very good cook among our circle of friends, and this means I feel I have to live up to that reputation, instead of making spaghetti marinara with a salad and calling it a day. That's not to say I don't enjoy the accolades. When a friend (for whom complaining is, well, second only to breathing) tells me that she has never had a bad meal when I've been cooking - Julia Child herself might as well have descended from heaven and asked me to cook for her. But it can be a lot to live up to. So perhaps there will be some foodie stuff in this blog - recipes of my own or other musings. Really, who knows where this is going to take me?
For now, I've finished my beef bourguignon and am looking forward to a mid-afternoon sugar rush with a piece of Konditor Meister cake. I'm expecting to head over to my former "local" Irish pub for the weekly seisun tonight, so I expect the next post will be oriented to music, rather than food.
It's not my intention to turn this into a foodie blog, but I am something of a foodie, so it's going to sneak in from time to time. I love good wine, good beer and good food. Usually, it's far simpler fare than Julia Child's beef bourguignon recipe (she did have a penchant for complicated recipes, although to her credit, she somehow made us believe that we could follow them - in the words of Julie Powell, "because goddammit, if Julia did it, so could we.")... no, a "normal" lunch for me is far more likely to be bread, cheese, veg and fruit than anything found in the pages of a cookbook. My coworkers think I'm a little nuts, as they microwave their lean cuisines and hot pockets, while I'm standing in our office kitchenette slicing avocado wedges and spreading chevrie on a baguette. But at the end of the day, I know most of what has gone into my body, and it's not chemical preservatives that I can't pronounce. Except for what's in the diet coke, and the odd Konditor Meister pastry, of course. ;)
I do sometimes get a little pretentious when I'm having folks over for a meal. I have developed a reputation as a very good cook among our circle of friends, and this means I feel I have to live up to that reputation, instead of making spaghetti marinara with a salad and calling it a day. That's not to say I don't enjoy the accolades. When a friend (for whom complaining is, well, second only to breathing) tells me that she has never had a bad meal when I've been cooking - Julia Child herself might as well have descended from heaven and asked me to cook for her. But it can be a lot to live up to. So perhaps there will be some foodie stuff in this blog - recipes of my own or other musings. Really, who knows where this is going to take me?
For now, I've finished my beef bourguignon and am looking forward to a mid-afternoon sugar rush with a piece of Konditor Meister cake. I'm expecting to head over to my former "local" Irish pub for the weekly seisun tonight, so I expect the next post will be oriented to music, rather than food.
Midnight Haiku
snowflakes falling soft
dissolving on eyelashes
silent night again
It's interesting how creative one can get under the influence of mood-altering substances. Now, before anyone gets their knickers in a twist, I am NOT talking about any illicit substance - I'm talking about the effect that can be brought about on the body with a glass of good wine and a slice of Konditor Meister cake. Truly, gods and goddesses among patissiers. It's the grown-up equivalent of a sugar high. And it's good. I mean, if I'm going to have insomnia, I might as well enjoy it, right? (As a completely Type A aside, does anyone know how to get the circumflex to display over the a in patissiers?)
How is it that I seem to be stuck on West Coast time when the only time zones I've visited in the last 3 years are GMT, GMT+1 and GMT-5?? I've written 2 more poems and finished another chapter in a short story I've been working on. I can feel myself slowly starting to wind down, so I'll start revising stuff I wrote earlier this week and then try to get a little sleep.
And if that doesn't work, I'll just cut myself another slice of pastry heaven.
dissolving on eyelashes
silent night again
It's interesting how creative one can get under the influence of mood-altering substances. Now, before anyone gets their knickers in a twist, I am NOT talking about any illicit substance - I'm talking about the effect that can be brought about on the body with a glass of good wine and a slice of Konditor Meister cake. Truly, gods and goddesses among patissiers. It's the grown-up equivalent of a sugar high. And it's good. I mean, if I'm going to have insomnia, I might as well enjoy it, right? (As a completely Type A aside, does anyone know how to get the circumflex to display over the a in patissiers?)
How is it that I seem to be stuck on West Coast time when the only time zones I've visited in the last 3 years are GMT, GMT+1 and GMT-5?? I've written 2 more poems and finished another chapter in a short story I've been working on. I can feel myself slowly starting to wind down, so I'll start revising stuff I wrote earlier this week and then try to get a little sleep.
And if that doesn't work, I'll just cut myself another slice of pastry heaven.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Solstice prayer, copyright Dec 2008
Taken from inside the inner circle at Stonehenge (Wiltshire, England), just before sunrise on the 2008 Winter Solstice.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Haiku quartet
Here are 4 Haiku I wrote this morning on my way to work, driving along the shore.
tree against a bright sky
reaching out with greening arms
spring is on her way
waves caress the shore
flash of sunlight reflected
gull calls to her mate
sparks of memories
shine so bright behind your eyes
strangers yet again
love shining bright
reflecting the universe
the ice cracks loudly
tree against a bright sky
reaching out with greening arms
spring is on her way
waves caress the shore
flash of sunlight reflected
gull calls to her mate
sparks of memories
shine so bright behind your eyes
strangers yet again
love shining bright
reflecting the universe
the ice cracks loudly
Thursday, February 4, 2010
night reflections; copyright Dec 2008
The River Derwent (Derbyshire, England). Along a riverwalk in Matlock Bath, December 2008.
2010: A Strange Odyssey
So, 2009 was truly a year of incredible change in my life. After ringing in the New Year '09 in Belgium with good friends, life went on a bit of a downward spiral for a bit. Now, back on the upswing, I'm looking back at a year that changed everything.
I was a mid-30s career minded workaholic with a long-distance spouse (literally, on another continent). I dabbled in music, art, theatre and writing.
Now? I'm a cancer patient and a first-time homeowner. I'm still a workaholic, but trying to channel some of that energy into things I was dabbling in before. Facing your own mortality does wonders for smacking you upside the head with your own misplaced priorities.
Which brings me to this blog. I'm writing again, and I thought I'd publish some here. I also might post some of my artwork, photos, or even (possibly) audio clips of my music. Who knows?
I'm taking off the blinders. Care to join me?
I was a mid-30s career minded workaholic with a long-distance spouse (literally, on another continent). I dabbled in music, art, theatre and writing.
Now? I'm a cancer patient and a first-time homeowner. I'm still a workaholic, but trying to channel some of that energy into things I was dabbling in before. Facing your own mortality does wonders for smacking you upside the head with your own misplaced priorities.
Which brings me to this blog. I'm writing again, and I thought I'd publish some here. I also might post some of my artwork, photos, or even (possibly) audio clips of my music. Who knows?
I'm taking off the blinders. Care to join me?
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