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Monthly Archives: April 2018

Leap of Faith

via Quote: Mary Oliver

Mary Oliver is one of my favourite poets. Even when she writes lines in declaratory ways, there is a profound question being asked.

In this wonderful quote shared on Rethinking Life the question is what happens next. Even under the best and most controlled of circumstances, we do not know what will happen in the next moment.

Living is a leap of faith filled with mystery we can embrace. When we believe we control the next moment, the next instance, we fall short. Mindfulness can help us embrace the mystery. Being grounded in each ensuing moment is the only place we can be.

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One Bourbon

via One Bourbon

Matthew posted this poem in response to my pressing of an earlier post. I included a video by John Lee Hooker of a song called One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer.

Matthew wrote a poem that embraces how a blues singer might go about writing a song. I find blues songs are never complete. I listen to one version of a song, even by the same performer, to find it is slightly different. Sometimes it is quite different.

Although he is not a blues singer per se, I enjoy Jimmy Buffett, as well. He does a Lord Buckley song called God’s Own Drunk. It is funny, charming, and Buffet does his version as a kind of talking blues.

I tried several times to upload the video, but failed. I held my mouth just right and it did not work. Here, is the link to God’s Own Drunk.

 

The Spring Paradox

I am in Spokane now,  reading, writing, and preparing for two presentations at the end of the month. It is unseasonable here, but it is at home, too. Rain and snow go with the low temperatures.

I wrote this about the paradox we experience in spring. It is a time of rejuvenation and resurrection, literally and figuratively, yet it is not always easy to see, unless I watch closely. Each day, as I walk, I see signs that contradict each other: sullen skies, a glacial wind, flowers showing, and robins gathered to feed.

Leaden, sullen rain-heavy skies,

The wind glacial;

Absent a lover’s warm touch,

With precision, it cuts through cloth,

Touches skin with icy fingers.

Have faith the calendar counsels

Nature speaks in other ways;

Daffodils reach through the earth,

Robins find food washed up on the sidewalk,

I hear spring is here.

I took this picture of the first robin I saw last spring. There was still snow. The robin posed for me, more interested in finding food than fearing me.

Where Words Fails

via Where Words Fail

Thank you to Misifusa for this wonderful post.

I have not posted for some time. This seemed like a good way to begin again, afresh. When I was growing up, we listened to a wide variety of music, including Nat King Cole, Louis Armstrong, and Ella Fitzgerald. I thought it was the norm and grew into a die-hard blues fan, attending concerts by Willie Dixon, John Lee Hooker, and King Biscuit when they traveled to Canada.

As an adult, I saw BB King, John Mayall, Etta James, Ruthie Foster, Taj Mahal, The Blind Boys of Alabama, and others. An American friend told me this was not the norm in the US. He did not have the same opportunities to see these performers as I did or, if he did, it was long after they were in their primes.

The Hans Christian Anderson quote fits well “where words fail, music speaks”. Music breaks down barriers without realizing they are coming down. As a Canadian, I had freedoms I took-for-granted, like the music I listened to and the concerts I attended. When I taught, I played a wide variety of music each morning. It ranged from the blues to jazz to country to folk to old rock and to more contemporary music. Students enjoyed it and it surprised them when they heard me play old Johnny Cash, the blues, and rock-a-billy.

Music is colour-blind or, better yet, music is blind to colour.

I like this particular John Lee Hooker song, which I first heard in the early 1970’s. George Thorogood plays it in most of his concerts in tribute to John Lee. Enjoy.

 

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