The Hammock Papers

Extra.

2012-02-11T20:41:00.003-05:00

Extravirginity.com aims to build a community of people fascinated by great olive oil, and start a grassroots revolution in oil quality, one post, conversation and oil tasting at a time. Growing out of the New Yorker article "Slippery Business" and the just-published book Extra Virginity, Extravirginity.com -- still in its infancy -- will give consumers solid advice about buying and enjoying oil, connect them with skilled oil-makers, celebrate the culture of this storied substance, and reveal mislabeled and fraudulent oils that cheat consumers and undercut honest producers.

There is much more at extravirginity.com.

Know your food.

Share.

2012-02-11T19:05:00.001-05:00

The Rainbow ...

Haven.

2012-02-11T18:45:00.004-05:00

Lengths down our road each fir-tree seems a hive, in swarms outrushing from the golden comb. they waken waves of thoughts that burst to foam:

... you throb in me, the dead revive. yon mantle clothes us:

... there, past mortal breath, life glistens on the river of death. it folds us, flesh and dust;

... and have we knelt, or never knelt, or eyed as kine the springs of radiance, the radiance enrings:

... and this is the soul's haven to have felt.

- George Meredith

Barn.

2012-02-11T18:31:00.002-05:00

Outside Jersey ...

Noticed.

2012-02-11T18:23:00.000-05:00

I noticed a spinning and swirling on their surfaces. It was the wind blowing the outer surface of the water, making the tiny bits of dust dance and swirl.

I always enjoy the tastes of home provided by An Adirondack Naturalist in Michigan.

19.

2012-02-11T05:51:00.003-05:00

The Red Wings had much to celebrate Friday night: A record-tying night for their captain, a thousand games for their elite net-front guy, a 19th straight victory at home.

They downed the Ducks, 2-1, in a shoot-out at Joe Louis Arena, claiming the victory in the third round on the usually reliable Todd Bertuzzi. Joey MacDonald staked a strong claim on the backup goaltending position with 29 saves through overtime, 13 in the third period.

Sincce January 12, the Wings have played 14 games, six have gone to a shootout of which they have won six.

I'm glad Bertuzzi is a Wing. Here we go, baby ...

Philadelphia comes to Hockeytown Sunday night.

Feeling.

2012-02-10T23:51:00.000-05:00

Herschel, Stone Bridge, 1923

feeling for the stone bridge
with my feet…
a cold night

- Issa

Jackson Browne, "Before The Deluge"

2012-02-10T23:32:00.000-05:00

Some of them were dreamers
And some of them were fools
Who were making plans and thinking of the future
With the energy of the innocent
They were gathering the tools
They would need to make their journey back to nature
While the sand slipped through the opening
And their hands reached for the golden ring
With their hearts they turned to each other's heart for refuge
In the troubled years that came before the deluge

Some of them knew pleasure
And some of them knew pain
And for some of them it was only the moment that mattered
And on the brave and crazy wings of youth
They went flying around in the rain
And their feathers, once so fine, grew torn and tattered
And in the end they traded their tired wings
For the resignation that living brings
And exchanged love's bright and fragile glow
For the glitter and the rouge
And in the moment they were swept before the deluge

Now let the music keep our spirits high
And let the buildings keep our children dry
Let creation reveal it's secrets by and by
By and by--
When the light that's lost within us reaches the sky

Some of them were angry
At the way the earth was abused
By the men who learned how to forge her beauty into power
And they struggled to protect her from them
Only to be confused
By the magnitude of her fury in the final hour
And when the sand was gone and the time arrived
In the naked dawn only a few survived
And in attempts to understand a thing so simple and so huge
Believed that they were meant to live after the deluge

Now let the music keep our spirits high
And let the buildings keep our children dry
Let creation reveal it's secrets by and by
By and by--
When the light that's lost within us reaches the sky

Lindley's shirt and solo are sublime ...

Different.

2012-02-10T22:46:00.002-05:00

Traditional people, and I think the people of the Paleolithic had, very probably, two concepts that change our vision of the world. The concept of fluidity and the concept of permeability. Permeability means the categories that we have, man, woman, horse, tree, etc., can shift. A tree may speak. A man can get transformed into an animal and the other way around, given certain circumstances. The concept of permeability is that there are no barriers, so to speak, between the world where we are and the world of spirits. A shaman, for example, can send his or her spirit to the world of the supernatural or can receive the visit of supernatural spirits.

When you put those two concepts together, you realize how different life must have been for those people from the way we live now.

--Jean Clottes, Cave of Forgotten Dreams

Amazing. Thank you, Jess.

Understanding.

2012-02-10T22:21:00.003-05:00

Anthony Hopkins, as John Quincy Adams, addressing the Supreme Court during the trial scene in the movie Amistad ...

When a member of the Mende encounter a situation when there appears to be no hope at all, he invokes his ancestors. Tradition. the Mende believe that if one can summon the spirit of one's ancestors, then they have never left ... the wisdom and strength they fathered and inspired will come to his aid.

James Madison.

Alexander Hamilton.

Benjamin Franklin.

Thomas Jefferson.

George Washington.

John Adams.

We have long resisted asking you for guidance. Perhaps we have feared, in doing so, we might acknowledge that our individuality we so, so revere, is not entirely our own. Perhaps we feared an appeal to you might be taken for weakness. But we have come to understand, finally, that this is not so. We understand now, we've been made to understand and to embrace the understanding that who we are is who we were.

We desperately need your strength and wisdom to triumph over our fears, our prejudices, ourselves. Give us the power to do what is right ...

Solve.

2012-02-10T21:52:00.003-05:00

I think, I exist. I decide. I live. I solve problems, I live with a purpose.

I am offering you a set of problem solving rules, here in their final complete form. They are infallible, inerrant and universal, easy to apply and can be improved by creative and pragmatic people. When they will be taught in the schools and at honest motivational courses, many stubborn problems will just melt away. Life will be better.

Cultural Offering directs us to an important post from a distant correspondent.

1,000.

2012-02-10T18:46:00.005-05:00

Tonight The Demolition Man, Tomas Holstrom, will play in his 1,000th game ... all of them wearing The Winged Wheel.

"It's going to be a fun night," Holmstrom said. "It's a big honor to put the Red Wing jersey on for 1,000 games."

Read the rest at The Freep.

UPDATE: Congratulations, Homer, on 1,000 games! Here's a snowmobile ... and a broken nose.

Singing.

2012-02-10T06:41:00.002-05:00

Bing, Great River, 1986

on a branch
floating downriver
a cricket, singing.

- Issa

Ever.

2012-02-10T06:28:00.000-05:00

The artist must summon all his energy, his sincerity, and the greatest modesty in order to shatter the old cliches that come so easily to hand while working, which can suffocate the little flower that does not come, ever, the way one expects.

- Henri Matisse

Classic.

2012-02-10T06:10:00.002-05:00

2013 will begin well. Two Original Six National Hockey League teams, the Detroit Red Wings and the Toronto Maple Leafs, will be featured in The Hockeytown Winter Classic. The game is to be played in The Big House in front of a what is expected to be a record breaking crowd.

Pavel and The Boys provide more ...

Solely.

2012-02-09T19:47:00.000-05:00

Webb, Ladder at O'Keeffe's, 1957

Art owes its origin to Nature herself ... this beautiful creation, the world, supplied the first model, while the original teacher was that divine intelligence which has not only made us superior to the other animals, but like God Himself, if I may venture to say it. In our own time it has been seen ... that simple children, roughly brought up in the wilderness, have begun to draw by themselves, impelled by their own natural genius, instructed solely by the example of these beautiful paintings and sculptures of Nature.

- Giorgio Vasari

Understanding.

2012-02-09T18:41:00.000-05:00

Andy Goldsworthy is an extraordinary, innovative British artist whose collaborations with nature produce uniquely personal and intense artworks. Using a seemingly endless range of natural materials—snow, ice, leaves, bark, rock, clay, stones, feathers petals, twigs—he creates outdoor sculpture that manifests, however fleeting, a sympathetic contact with the natural world. Before they disappear, or as they disappear, Goldsworthy, records his work in suburb color photographs.

Goldsworthy deliberately explores the tension of working in the area where he finds his materials, and is undeterred by changes by changes in the weather which may melt a spectacular ice arch or wash away a delicate structure of grasses. The intention is not to “make his mark” on the landscape, but rather to work with it instinctively, so that a delicate scene of bamboo or massive snow rings or a circle of leaves floating in a pool create a new perception and an ever growing understanding of the land.

More here.

Mars.

2012-02-09T18:14:00.001-05:00

Mars is less than one month away from its March 3, 2012 opposition when it will be best for this two-year period. Let the moon show you Mars tonight!

On the night of February 9, 2012, the moon, Mars and the constellation Leo the Lion are seen together over the eastern horizon about two to three hours after sunset. Regulus, Leo’s brightest star, rises first at nightfall or early evening. Then the moon and Mars follow Regulus into the sky some 60 to 90 minutes later. The moon might look full to you, but it’s really now in a waning gibbous phase. Does Mars look reddish to you in the moon’s glare?

Read the rest at EarthSky.

Dreams.

2012-02-09T18:05:00.002-05:00

I highly recommend this documentary ...

CAVE OF FORGOTTEN DREAMS, a breathtaking new documentary from the incomparable Werner Herzog (ENCOUNTERS AT THE END OF THE WORLD, GRIZZLY MAN) follows an exclusive expedition into the nearly inaccessible Chauvet Cave in France, home to the most ancient visual art known to have been created by man. A hit at this year’s Toronto Film Festival, CAVE OF FORGOTTEN DREAMS is an unforgettable cinematic experience that provides a unique glimpse of pristine artwork dating back to human hands over 30,000 years ago -- almost twice as old as any previous discovery.

More at IFC.

Elevated.

2012-02-09T16:04:00.002-05:00

Opgenhaffen, Untitled, 2012

I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man.

- William Wordsworth

Thanks, Veerle.

Beethoven, "Piano Sonata Op.31,2 in D minor, "The Tempest"

2012-02-09T05:15:00.000-05:00

Glenn Gould performs the Adagio ...

Happy Birthday, Walker.

2012-02-09T03:58:00.000-05:00

Poet Alice Walker was born on this date in 1944.

I have learned to dance.

It isn’t that I didn’t know how to dance before; everyone in my community knew how to dance, even those with several left feet. I just didn’t know how basic it is for maintaining balance. That Africans are always dancing (in their ceremonies and rituals) shows an awareness of this. It struck me one day, while dancing, that the marvelous moves African Americans are famous for on the dance floor came about because the dancers, especially in the old days, were contorting away various knots of stress. Some of the lower-back movements handed down to us that have seemed merely sensual were no doubt created after a day’s work bending over a plow or hoe on a slave driver’s plantation.

Wishing to honor the role of dance in the healing of families, communities, and nations, I hired a local hall and a local band and invited friends and family from near and far to come together, on Thanksgiving, to dance our sorrows away, or at least to integrate them more smoothly into our daily existence. The next generation of my family, mourning the recent death of a mother, my sister-in-law, created a spirited line dance that assured me that, though we have all encountered our share of grief and troubles, we can still hold the line of beauty, form, and beat — no small accomplishment in a world as challenging as this one.

Hard times require furious dancing. Each of us is the proof.

Read the rest at npr.

My favorite Walker poem, "Expect Nothing," is here.

Familiar.

2012-02-09T03:56:00.002-05:00

Homer, Moonlight on the Water, 1892

Alas! as I have lived I have lost the capacity of fear. When you know what things are really like, you can make no poems about them. When you have had talk with ghosts and connections with the devils you are, in the end, more afraid of your creditors than of them; and when you have been made a cuckold you are no longer nervous about cuckoldry. I have become too familiar with life; it can no longer delude me into believing that one thing is much worse than the other. The day and the dark, an enemy and a friend—I know them to be about the same. How can you make others afraid when you have forgotten fear yourself? I once had a really tragic tale, a great tale, full of agony, immensely popular, of a young man who in the end had his nose and his ears cut off. Now I could frighten no one with it, if I wanted to, for now I know that to be without them is not so very much worse than to have them. This is why you see me here, skin and bone, and dressed in old rags instead of keeping near the thrones of the mighty, flourishing and flattered, as was when I was young.

- Isak Dinesen

Clingsandmeltsandfreezesagain.

2012-02-09T03:44:00.000-05:00

Karr, Beech Jeweled, 2012

Much is noticed at wanderations.

Waken.

2012-02-08T07:27:00.003-05:00

Wyeth, Pine Baron, 1976

‎I forgot where I heard that poems
are designed to waken sleeping gods ...

- Jim Harrison, from "The Theory & Practice of Rivers"

Full.

2012-02-07T17:17:00.003-05:00

Chatham, Pale Winter Moon, 2008

The loveliest faces are seen by moonlight, when one sees half with the eye and half with the imagination.

- Persian proverb

Robert Plant, "What Is & What Should Never Be"

2012-02-07T06:46:00.001-05:00

Unfolding.

2012-02-07T06:37:00.003-05:00

Burne-Jones, Desiderium, 1873

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

- Max Ehrmann

Last.

2012-02-06T23:56:00.002-05:00

Headed home ...

The Red Wings got goaltending out of Joey MacDonald and a much-needed goal from their power play.

That still wasn't enough to get them past the Coyotes, who used an empty-net goal from Martin Hanzal to secure a 3-1 victory Monday at Jobing. com. The game was the fourth and last of the trip, and the only one that saw the Wings unable to gain any points.

They now return home for a six-game stand at Joe Louis Arena, where they've won 17 in a row. A big week lies ahead, as Tomas Holmstrom is slated to play in his 1,000th career game on Friday, the same night Nicklas Lidstrom will tie Alex Delvechhio for second-most games played in a Wings uniform, at 1,549.

Happy Birthday, Reagan.

2012-02-06T23:41:00.005-05:00

President Ronald Reagan was born on this date in 1911.

As I looked out a moment ago from the Reichstag, that embodiment of German unity, I noticed words crudely spray-painted upon the wall, perhaps by a young Berliner: "This wall will fall. Beliefs become reality." Yes, across Europe, this wall will fall. For it cannot withstand faith; it cannot withstand truth. The wall cannot withstand freedom.

And I would like, before I close, to say one word. I have read, and I have been questioned since I've been here about certain demonstrations against my coming. And I would like to say just one thing, and to those who demonstrate so. I wonder if they have ever asked themselves that if they should have the kind of government they apparently seek, no one would ever be able to do what they're doing again.

President Reagan's June 12, 1987 speech at the Brandenburg Gate of the Berlin Wall ...

Snow.

2012-02-06T23:15:00.002-05:00

Full Snow Moon – February

Since the heaviest snow usually falls during this month, native tribes of the north and east most often called February’s full Moon the Full Snow Moon. Some tribes also referred to this Moon as the Full Hunger Moon, since harsh weather conditions in their areas made hunting very difficult.

More at The Farmers' Almanac

License.

2012-02-06T06:46:00.002-05:00

If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within him; or the old laws be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with the license of a higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.

- Henry David Thoreau

Unfolding.

2012-02-06T06:13:00.003-05:00

Art does not reproduce the visible; it makes visible.

- Paul Klee

Ferdinando Buscema discusses magic, management, and how imagination can shape reality ...

Ferdinando Buscema's site is here.

Being.

2012-02-06T05:57:00.001-05:00

If there is nothing you can share with other people, try to be close to Things. Things will not abandon you. The nights are still there, and the winds that move through the trees and across many lands. Everything in the world of Things and animals is filled with being, of which you are part.

- Rainer Maria Rilke

Jackson Browne, "Something Fine"

2012-02-05T20:08:00.000-05:00

See.

2012-02-05T19:25:00.000-05:00

Adams, Trailside Near Juneau, Alaska, 1948

All there is to thinking is seeing something noticeable which makes you see something you weren't noticing which makes you see something that isn't even visible.

- Norman Maclean

Weissenborn.

2012-02-04T23:02:00.004-05:00

Cindy Cashdolar performs ...

Drift.

2012-02-04T20:21:00.003-05:00

The words of my book are nothing, the drift of it everything.

- Walt Whitman

Heroically.

2012-02-04T15:52:00.002-05:00

Let us not be satisfied with recounting a fable of the heart; let us create its myth. Is not love, with art, our only license to overreach the human condition, to be greater, more generous, more sorrowful if need be than is the common lot? Let us be so heroically ...

- Rainer Maria Rilke

Beethoven, Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 73

2012-02-04T12:43:00.003-05:00

Daniel Barenboim conducts and performs the second movement, Adagio un poco mosso

Youth.

2012-02-04T12:26:00.004-05:00

In 1957 Mike Wallace interviewed Frank Lloyd Wright. They talked about religion, war, mercy killing, art, critics, his mile-high skyscraper, America's youth, sex, morality, politics, nature, and death ... it's still worth a listen.

WALLACE: Do you think that you are any less rebellious, less of a radical in your art and life, than you were a quarter of a century ago, Mr. Wright?

WRIGHT: That I'm more so. Only more quiet about it. (chuckles)

WALLACE: To what do you attribute your...

WRIGHT: Lauren McArthur, a very good friend of mine, once said to me, "Frank, here, you don't have to paint your shirt-front red and stand out on the street and holler about this," he said. And I began to think it over, and I think he is right. It is. You don't have to push hard, or talk loud, or in any way get up to defend what you believe in. If it is right, and if it is good, and it is sound it will defend you if you give it a chance. You don't have to push it. I've never pushed myself, I've never turned over my hand to get a client during my life; I have never sought publicity of any kind, I've yielded to it, because Duart Lewis came to me once when I was rolling a reporter down-hill in a kerosene barrel and doing all those things to get rid of him. "Frank" he said, "These boys have to live. Don't you understand? That you're bringing all this down on yourself just because you haven't got the wit to be kind to them and to see that they have to live just as well as you do; and they are sent out here to get something, and if they don't get it, then they get fired." He said, "It takes all kinds, Frank, to make the world" And so I began to give. Here I am giving again.

WALLACE: Yes, you are. And I want you to give, if you will, the answer to just one more question.

WRIGHT: Go ahead.

WALLACE: Are you afraid of death?

WRIGHT: Not at all. Walt Whitman is the guide on that; if you want to talk, to consult him -- read him.

WALLACE: Do you believe...

WRIGHT: Walt is a great friend.

WALLACE: Do you believe in personal ... in your personal immortality?

WRIGHT: Yes. You get so far, as I am immortal. I will be immortal. To me, young has no meaning, it's something you can do nothing about. Nothing at all. But youth is a quality, and if you have it, you never lose it. And when they put you into the box that's your immortality.

WALLACE: Mr. Wright, I thank you for spending this half hour with us.

WRIGHT: Well, you're welcome, I hope it's been of some interest...

WALLACE: It has indeed.

WRIGHT: ...to whoever has been listening. But I don't know.

Here is the interview ...

Happy Birthday, Bonhoeffer.

2012-02-04T08:00:00.004-05:00

I discovered later, and I'm still discovering right up to this moment, that is it only by living completely in this world that one learns to have faith. By this-worldliness I mean living unreservedly in life's duties, problems, successes and failures. In so doing we throw ourselves completely into the arms of God, taking seriously, not our own sufferings, but those of God in the world. That, I think, is faith.

- Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was born on this date in 1906.

Bruce Molsky, "Three Mark Polska/Down the Road

2012-02-04T07:58:00.000-05:00

Learn.

2012-02-04T07:35:00.010-05:00

The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something.

That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn.

Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.

- T.H. White

Head in the clouds.

2012-02-03T23:22:00.003-05:00

Build.

2012-02-03T19:27:00.001-05:00

Every spirit builds itself a house; and beyond its house, a world; and beyond its world a heaven. Know then, that the world exists for you: build, therefore, your own world.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Truth.

2012-02-03T06:10:00.000-05:00

Curtis, Eagle Catcher, 1908

All of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs - that song, endlesly reincarnated - born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 - same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness.

- Nick Tosches

More.

2012-02-02T04:56:00.004-05:00

Homer, Woodsman and Fallen Tree, 1891

I seem to wake
and sleep ambiguously,
to see and misconceive,
to feel on the brink of something
that doesn’t end, beauty
that is more than beautiful,
meaning that is more.

The present is all around me, dreams,
a panoply of crimes, smudges of erasure,
memory made of clouds, camels,
weasels and the unlikelihood
of somewhere within and beyond this world.

Here’s light,
angular, ubiquituous
with the milky pigments of belief.
Here’s plodding time, breathing hard.
Birds fly up, perch on branches,
peck seed from the grass, (tug worms from the soil).
I am not what I imagined,
here I am the illusionist
and dupe of my illusions,
making the angels disappear, wishing them back again.

- Brook Emory, from "Very like a Whale"

Darrell Scott, "The Open Door"

2012-02-01T19:19:00.001-05:00

Well, it's "fare thee well", my true love
The song is in the air
I hear the West calling
See what's for me there

With the sun I'm leavin'
I'll be Montana bound
Ain't no use in grievin'
I'll show you what I've found

Yeah, some folks have it easy
At least that's how it seems
Reach up and pick an apple
Reach up and find a dream

Some travel in the darkness
And rest upon the shade
Some wrestle with their demons
And face them unafraid

We argue for our better selves
We only ask for more
We take the mirror from the shelf
And find the open door

I love you with a fever
I love you with a past
My heart is a keeper
As long as it will last

As long as it will last
I'll tell you what I know
We walk this road together
And we walk this road alone

Head in the clouds.

2012-02-01T18:32:00.004-05:00

Clouds

I’d have to be really quick
to describe clouds—
a split second’s enough
… for them to start being something else.

Their trademark:
they don’t repeat a single
shape, shade, pose, arrangement.

Unburdened by memory of any kind,
they float easily over the facts.

What on earth could they bear witness to?
They scatter whenever something happens.

Compared to clouds,
life rests on solid ground,
practically permanent, almost eternal.

Next to clouds
even a stone seems like a brother,
someone you can trust,
while they’re just distant, flighty cousins.

Let people exist if they want,
and then die, one after another:
clouds simply don’t care
what they’re up to
down there.

And so their haughty fleet
cruises smoothly over your whole life
and mine, still incomplete.

They aren’t obliged to vanish when we’re gone.
They don’t have to be seen while sailing on.

— Wisława Szymborska

Wislawa Szymborska, July 2, 1923 – February 1, 2012. Rest in peace.

The Ben Gunn Mento Band

2012-02-01T01:26:00.003-05:00

"La Martinica"

"Señorita Panchita" (sadly abbreviated)

Kingston meets Bakersfield by way of Cartagena ... "Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down"

Ben Gunn Ep by The Ben Gunn Mento Band

More here and here.

Barn.

2012-01-31T21:43:00.000-05:00

Hardscrabble.

2012-01-31T07:05:00.003-05:00

Wayne Scott watched his son ascend to a place as a successful Nashville musician and smiled when Scott did well enough to buy him a Gibson Hummingbird guitar to replace the one the boy, his brother and his friend drowned in a swamp when Darrell was 5 and wanted to see whether guitars would float. (They do, sort of, but they emerge considerably worse for wear.)

He smiled some more when Darrell founded his own label and signed his dad as the debut artist: Wayne Scott’s first album, This Weary Way, came out in 2005 on Full Light Records. It was full of old-school country music — the kind Wayne loved the most — and a writer from the Chicago Sun-Times called it “the soundtrack to the hardscrabble life of a real country man.”

And no one argued.

The son’s own albums have been stylistically divergent, always grounded in American roots music forms but never devoted singly to Wayne Scott’s kind of country. But a few years ago, Darrell gathered some of country music’s greatest session players, including Country Music Hall of Famer Charlie McCoy and masters such as Pig Robbins, Dennis Crouch, Kenny Malone and Lloyd Green, and they recorded 16 of his most country-inflected songs. Wayne came to the studio and sang some lead vocals on a song called “The Country Boy,” one he wrote 36 years ago with his teenaged boy.

“You’ll never know the loneliness and sorrow he goes through / The country boy has been there, that’s what makes him sing the blues,” he sings, evoking pains, conflicts and hard-won knowledge. The stuff Wayne lived. The stuff Darrell grew up on.

Read the rest at The Tennessean.

Darrell Scott's The Long Ride Home, is released today.

Here's my favorite poem of his ...

Happy Birthday, Manzanera.

2012-01-31T06:15:00.001-05:00

Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera was born on this date in 1951.

Ferry's voice is amazing, but the first thing that ever attracted me to this band was Manzanera's guitar.

Roxy Music, "My Only Love"

Thanks Kurt.

Lost.

2012-01-31T05:49:00.004-05:00

Bouguereau, The Lost Pleiad, 1884

The Pleiades, waxing moon and Jupiter visible tonight after sundown.

Legend of the Lost Pleiad

Most people see 6, not 7, Pleiades stars in a dark country sky.

However, the story about the lost 7th Pleiad harbors a universal theme. The astronomer Robert Burnham Jr. finds the lost Pleaid myth prevalent in the star lore of European, African, Asian, Indonesian, Native American and Aboriginal Australian populations.

Moreover, Burnham suggests the “Lost Pleiad” may have basis in fact. After all, modern astronomy has found that the 7th brightest Pleiades star – Pleione – is a complicated and hard-to-understand “shell star” that goes through numerous permutations. These changes cause this star to vary in brightness.

Plus people with exceptional eyesight have been known to see many more stars in the Pleiades cluster. Claims go up as high as 20 stars. Miss Agnes Clerke reports that Maestlin, the tutor of Kepler, mapped out 11 Pleiades stars before the invention of the telescope.

However, you must be willing to spend time under a dark, moonless sky to see more than 6 or 7 Pleaides stars. Stephen O’Meara, a dark-sky connoisseur, claims that eyes dark-adapted for 30 minutes are 6 times more sensitive to light than eyes dark-adapted for 15 minutes. The surest way to see additional Pleiades stars is to look at this cluster through binoculars or low power in a telescope.

Read the rest at EarthSky.

The Lost Pleiad

Not in the sky,
Where it was seen
So long in eminence of light serene,—
Nor on the white tops of the glistering wave,
Nor down in mansions of the hidden deep,
Though beautiful in green
And crystal, its great caves of mystery,—
Shall the bright watcher have
Her place, and, as of old, high station keep!

Gone! gone!
Oh! nevermore, to cheer
The mariner, who holds his course alone
On the Atlantic, through the weary night,
When the stars turn to watchers, and do sleep,
Shall it again appear,
With the sweet-loving certainty of light,
Down shining on the shut eyes of the deep!

The upward-looking shepherd on the hills
Of Chaldea, night-returning with his flocks,
He wonders why his beauty doth not blaze,
Gladding his gaze,—
And, from his dreary watch along the rocks,
Guiding him homeward o’er the perilous ways!
How stands he waiting still, in a sad maze,
Much wondering, while the drowsy silence fills
The sorrowful vault!—how lingers, in the hope that night
May yet renew the expected and sweet light,
So natural to his sight!

And lone,
Where, at the first, in smiling love she shone,
Brood the once happy circle of bright stars:
How should they dream, until her fate was known,
That they were ever confiscate to death?
That dark oblivion the pure beauty mars,
And, like the earth, its common bloom and breath,
That they should fall from high;
Their lights grow blasted by a touch, and die,
All their concerted springs of harmony
Snapt rudely, and the generous music gone!

Ah! still the strain
Of wailing sweetness fills the saddening sky;
The sister stars, lamenting in their pain
That one of the selectest ones must die,—
Must vanish, when most lovely, from the rest!
Alas! ’t is ever thus the destiny.
Even Rapture’s song hath evermore a tone
Of wailing, as for bliss too quickly gone.
The hope most precious is the soonest lost,
The flower most sweet is first to feel the frost.
Are not all short-lived things the loveliest?
And, like the pale star, shooting down the sky,
Look they not ever brightest, as they fly
From the lone sphere they blest!

- William Gilmore Simms

Exciting.

2012-01-30T22:07:00.002-05:00

It is fantastic. *If* you let yourself forget about the need to have your house “in order”. What is order anyway? A temporary feeling that all is in control. Fleeting. Really everything is in a state of constant flux. Except we don’t really contemplate that too much because it forces us to acknowledge that we too are always changing and on that road to “the end”. That place that we don’t really know much about and don’t want to contemplate.

Tangent #2 (or is this #3?)
I watched the film “Microcosmos” with my son yesterday and it made me think about all of the worlds, microscopic, underground, in space, down the street, in every house, underfoot, in the corner of my room, in my body, under the sea, in Manhattan, that are all occurring all the time without my being aware of it. This is really a big thought to take in. Perhaps too big for a sleepy monday morning. But anyway, I got very excited about that (I can get very excited about a lot of things, have you noticed that?)

The world is an exciting place. There is always something going on that you want to be looking at and thinking about.

Read the rest at kerismith.com

Mind.

2012-01-30T05:37:00.000-05:00

Wyeth, Turkey Pond, 1944

Beannacht (Blessing)

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

- John O'Donohue

Bush, "The Sound of Winter"

2012-01-29T22:58:00.000-05:00

... so alive.

Howls.

2012-01-29T19:32:00.000-05:00

Storrs, Wind, 1918

Brew me a cup for a winter's night.
For the wind howls loud and the furies fight;
Spice it with love and stir it with care,
And I'll toast our bright eyes, my sweetheart fair.

- Minna Thomas Antrim

Head in the clouds.

2012-01-29T18:12:00.004-05:00

Tchaikovsky, Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35

2012-01-29T17:04:00.005-05:00

Fiddler Janine Jansen performs the Canzonetta: Andante (in G minor)

Mystery.

2012-01-29T15:50:00.005-05:00

Krista Tippett interviews author and poet John O'Donohue on "The Inner Landscape of Beauty" ...

TIPPETT: You know, I've been looking back at the thought of the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, and he has this statement at the beginning of his book The Nature and Destiny of Man, you know, the first line, "Man is his own most vexing problem." Or I think of a great kind of pivotal work in this culture of modern psychology, M. Scott Peck's book, which begins, "Life is difficult." And then I read this line, which begins your book, Anam Ċara, which is also a different way of kind of analyzing the human condition: "It's strange to be here. The mystery never leaves you." Talk to me about that as a way of thinking about what it means to be human and how you come to that and what you mean when you write those words.

O'DONOHUE: OK. I mean, when you think about language and you think about consciousness, it's just incredible to think that we can make any sounds that can reach over across to each other at all. Because I mean, I think we're — I think the beauty of being human is that we're incredibly, intimately near each other. We know about each other, but yet we do not know or never can know what it's like inside another person. And it's amazing, you know, here am I sitting in front of you now, looking at your face, you're looking at mine and yet neither of us have ever seen our own faces. And that in some way, thought is the face that we put on the meaning that we feel and that we struggle with and that the world is always larger and more intense and stranger than our best thought will ever reach. And that's the mystery of poetry, you know, is poetry tries to draw alongside the mystery as it's emerging and somehow bring it into presence and into birth.

Read the rest at On Being.

Here is the conversation ...

Thank you very much, Veerle.

Live.

2012-01-29T15:25:00.004-05:00

Opgenhaffen, Weeping and Laughing and Soaring, 2011

Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life.

- Seneca

Thank you, Veerle. Love and warmth to you and your dear Malou.

Alive.

2012-01-29T13:04:00.003-05:00

Music

I
A vision o'er my soul hath swept,
A dream of light; 'twas music part,
And part it was my happy heart
Made music as I slept.

I cannot paint that glorious dream,
Words are such cold and lifeless things;
Of all the life and light it brings,
I can but give a gleam.

I wandered with a calm surprise
Half on the earth, and half in air,
And sometimes I went gliding where
The ocean meets the skies.

O, it was sweet to roam away!
No cumbrous limbs to clog the motion,
As through the fields, the air, the ocean,
I could not choose but stray.

Asleep in body, but awake
In soul to all things bright and dear,
My fancies wandered far and near,
Nor would my slumbers break.

There seemed a ceaseless harmony,
Which sounding every where I went
Came ringing through the firmament,
Or from the pathless sea;

Or sometimes from the lonely woods,
Or from the high o'er-watching stars,
For silence now had burst her bars
Through Nature's solitudes.

And then I knew that music is
The native tongue of none but Gladness,
That Silence weds herself to Sadness,
Who hath no harmonies.

And still I roamed with lightsome heart,
And from the tones so intermingled,
Swift-gathering Fancy every singled
One voice from every part.

And first I heard the mighty ocean
Go thundering to his empire bounds;
A voice of many blended sounds
In sad and wild commotion.

The mad waves roared in spray-fire flame,
The white storm-bird flew screaming by;
But sweetly from the listening sky
The softened echoes came.

All mingled in one giant tone,
Till stunned by the loud ocean band,
I turned away--'twas sad to stand
On that dark shore alone.

But to the stars my face I turned,
And strange as it may seem, methought
My ears a slow faint anthem caught
From the calm orbs that burned

Amid the dark blue firmament:
There hung the seven-stringed lyre on high,
But a reckless comet came rushing by,
And swept it as he went;

And there came a troubled music out,
And yet it jarred not on the ear,
For the circling choir rang sweet and clear
As their first morning shout.

I wandered still and heard it come;
It fell with the meek starlight down,
And not a thunder voice or frown
Passed o'er the glittering dome:

Till by the border of a wood,
While silver moonlight edged the trees
Where a thousand birds rocked by the breeze
Were sleeping, soon I stood.

A soft and swelling music crept
As from some mighty wind-harp strings,
Too soft to wake the myriad things
That mid the branches slept.

The winds were sifting through the pines;
'Twas sweet yet sad to hear them moan:
Ah! then I felt I was alone
By Nature's holiest shrines.

And deep amid the o'er-arching trees
A low-toned waterfall was gushing;
Unseen, beneath, a stream went rushing
And mingling with the breeze.

A musing spirit o'er me passed,
And Memory took me to the day
When in the woodlands, far away,
I thus stood listening last.

II
Sudden a light flashed on my dream,
The pensive tones of night were gone,
And I was by a dewy lawn
Lit by the sun's first beam.

A wandering voice went twittering by,
It seemed a meadow-bird of spring;
It came, on gay and glancing wing
Fast leaping through the sky.

It bore me back to childhood's hours,
And I was in the fields again,
And by the stream and in the glen
Hunting the wild wood flowers.

It did not seem so very strange,
And yet I felt myself a child,
As gay, as thoughtless and as wild,
As when I knew no change.

And then came tinkling on my ear,
As if to strengthen all this spell,
The grazing herd's low meadow-bell:
O, it was sweet to hear!

And I was young--my heart was light;
The stream of years was backward rolled;
How could I feel that I'd grown old,
When Memory was so bright?

I wandered, drinking in the sound:
There is no music like to this
That floats within a dream of bliss,
When night is all around.

Through all my night there was a morn,
A little fairy morning beaming,
Like sunlight through a forest streaming
On one who walks forlorn.

And all along, where'er I wandered,
The sweet mysterious music played;
'Twas part around me, partly made
Within me, as I pondered.

And part of it a mingled feeling
Made up of joy and harmony,
A presence that brought light to me,
A hidden self revealing.

The sea, the stars, the winds, the trees,
The stream, the waterfall, the dell,
The bird, the flowers, the meadow-bell--
I felt that all of these

Were but the symbols of a soul
Alive with hope or memory;
The mind's immortal harmony
That through its chambers stole.

And to the spirit's listening ear,
Whilst slept the limbs and senses all,
Made every thing seem musical;
How could I cease to hear?

And thus it may be, when this frame
Is laid asleep in death at last;
The soul no longer overcast,
To Him from whom it came,

Shall brighten upward and be free,
And roam amid the chiming spheres,
And feel within, while thus it hears,
Eternal Harmony.

We brought it with us here below--
Within, without, we feel it ever;
Why should it not, as now, forever
Through an Hereafter go!

For music, I must think, was given
To be of higher life a token,
The language by the angels spoken,
The native tongue of heaven!

- Christopher Pearse Cranch

Stoop.

2012-01-29T10:05:00.003-05:00

Wisdom ...

... is sometimes nearer ...

... when we stoop ...

... than when we soar.

- William Wordsworth

Head in the clouds.

2012-01-29T10:00:00.001-05:00

Intricate whisps over Utica this morning ...

Happy Birthday, Abbey.

2012-01-29T08:08:00.002-05:00

Edward Abbey was born on this date in 1927.

According to the current doctrines of mysticoscientism, we human animals are really and actually nothing but "organic patterns of nodular energy composed of collocations of infinitesimal points oscillating on the multi-dimensional coordinates of the space-time continuum". I'll have to think about that. Sometime. Meantime, I'm going to gnaw on this sparerib, drink my Blatz beer, and contemplate the a posteriori coordinates of that young blonde over yonder, the one in the tennis skirt, tying her shoelaces.

- Cactus Ed

Skills.

2012-01-29T06:57:00.003-05:00

As part of the NHL All Star Game weekend festivities, the Skills Competition was last night.

Teams were selected for the skills relay and Pavel was selected first overall by his team for the Skills Challenge ...

Fastest skater ...

Breakaway ...

Accuracy Shooting ...

Skills Relay. Don't miss Pavel's puck control at 4:01 ...

Hardest Shot ...

Shootout ...

Savall.

2012-01-28T23:45:00.000-05:00

Jordi Savall and is ensemble, Folías de España, perform a short though sublime concert.

When I am an old man and I have come to the end of my days, should I be given the opportunity, I would like to have Jordi Savall's viol be the last music I hear.

Renew.

2012-01-28T19:25:00.006-05:00

Casey Walker interviews Jim Harrison ...

WALKER: In your own work, whether from day to day to in its general arc, what does it look like to you? Where is your curiosity?

HARRISON: Well, you can go through it to the point you see not just what is in front of you, but you can look at yourself walking away. I see more of the same work I’ve done before, I don’t change gears in quantum leaps. I do find myself reading more and more about botany and anthropology, which reminds me of Erik Erickson saying reality is mankind’s greatest illusion. We are overwhelmed by the perception of how short life is, as in the old Don Juan thing about the whining man who is always whining and whining about hoeing corn and then you hear a dog barking in the distance and the screen door slams and suddenly it’s evening. You have to be very aware of that sensation. Time is one of our great illusions too. In “The Beige Dolorosa,” there’s a man who wants to rename the birds of North America, and he’s created a calendar in which there are only three days a month, which gives him these great open spaces: three 200-hour days. Natives know this kind of thing—how to renew oneself. The interesting thing about being in a rut is that the only things you see are the sides of the rut. You don’t see out. The frogs who fell into the well now think that’s the universe. It’s the perfect metaphor for people rich or poor.

Read the rest at Wild Duck Review.

Breathing.

2012-01-28T17:27:00.005-05:00

My shoulders drop and I remember that I am breathing.

Calm yourself at wanderations.

The Marx Brothers, "A Day at the Races"

2012-01-28T11:53:00.001-05:00

The Examination Scene ... You must forgive him, he doesn't spell very well.

Lifetime.

2012-01-28T07:02:00.002-05:00

To write a poem you must first create a pen that will write all that you want to say. For better or worse, this is the work of a lifetime.

- Jim Harrison, from the Preface to After Ikkyu and Other Poems

Wakes.

2012-01-28T05:54:00.002-05:00

Talbot, Oak Tree in Winter at Lacock Abbey, 1843

Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by wandering. By wandering one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road -- Only wakes upon the sea.

- Antonio Machado

Mullova.

2012-01-27T22:07:00.001-05:00

In my wanderings through the Interditch tonight I came across this trailer for a documentary on Viktoria Mullova. In this footage she is working on some Vivaldi with Giovanni Antonini and Il Giardino Armonico.

Gould playing Bach, Horowitz with Chopin, Uchida and Mozart, ... I'm not sure it gets any better than Mullova and Vivaldi.

New.

2012-01-27T21:04:00.002-05:00

van Ruisdael, View of Alkmaar, 1675

How I have walked ... day after day, and all alone, to see if there was not something among the old things which was new!

- Thomas Cole

Logistics.

2012-01-27T20:55:00.007-05:00

Canaletto, View Of The Grand Walk, Vauxhall Gardens, 1755

As with the stone masons building Europe's great cathedrals, the whalers out of Nantucket, or the Rangers with Rogers in the north woods, I would have loved to be a waiter or a bartender at Vauxhall.

John Barrell reviews David Coke and Alan Borg's Vauxhall Gardens: A history ...

The gardens provided refreshments on a scale never attempted before and perhaps rarely since, when we bear in mind that, unlike the concessions at sports grounds or festivals today, everything eaten and drunk in the gardens came from one single outlet. On some occasions, 5,000, even 7,000, were fed in an evening. The food was plain English fare, with none of your fiddly French sauces: chicken, ham, beef with custard, served cold except perhaps when unexpected numbers required the cooks to roast extra chickens: one former waiter remembered an order suddenly coming into the kitchen for “400 roast fowls”. The gardens were famed for their portion control, meat carved so paper-thin it was described as “sliced cobwebs”; the wine was neither good nor cheap. Being English, the customers did not often complain; if the fare left them unimpressed, they must still have marvelled at the sublime logistics of supplying food on this scale. Ranelagh, after all, Vauxhall’s main competitor in the eighteenth century, served only tea and coffee. An army of waiters was employed, each wearing identifying numbers as if in a football team. Except, I suppose, when 400 chickens were ordered at once, the waiters were prevented from cheating the management by being made to pay cash from their own pockets for everything they ordered from the kitchens, reimbursing themselves when the customers settled their bills.

Read the rest at The Times Literary Supplement. Thank you, Arts & Letters Daily.

More at vauxhallgardens.com.

Happy Birthday, Mozart.

2012-01-27T17:25:00.004-05:00

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born on this date in 1756.

As death (considered precisely) is the real purpose of our life, for several years I have become so closely acquainted with this true and best friend of life, that his image is not only no longer terrifying to me, but rather something very soothing and comforting! And I thank my God for affording me, in his grace, the opportunity (you understand me) of realizing that he is the key to our real happiness -- I never lie down in bed without that (young as I am) I may not live to see the next day -- and yet no one, especially among those who know me, can say that in daily life I am stubborn or sad -- and for this happiness I give thanks to my Creator every day and wish every man the same, from the bottom of my heart ...

- Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, from H.C. Robbins Landon's 1791: Mozart's Last Year

Here, Peter Ustinov narrates The Mozart Mystique ...

Liberated.

2012-01-27T05:55:00.003-05:00

On this date in 1927, the Soviet Army liberated the Nazis' biggest concentration camp at Auschwitz in south-western Poland.

From the 2005 film, Holocaust: A Music Memorial Film from Auschwitz ...

Mozart, Requiem in D minor, Introitus

Gorecki, Symphony No. 3, "Sorrowful Songs," Lento e Largo

Bach, Partita in D, Chaconne

Chopin, Mazurka in C sharp minor, Op.6 No.2

I believe in the sun,
though it is late in rising.

I believe in love,
though it is absent.

I believe in God,
though He is silent.

- Anonymous Holocaust survivor

Happy Birthday, Michigan.

2012-01-26T07:52:00.003-05:00

The Great North, God's Country, ... Misshikama was founded on this date in 175 years ago in 1837.

Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam circumspice

Sssssssstones, "You Got Me Rockin'"

2012-01-26T07:46:00.000-05:00

Freedom.

2012-01-26T06:58:00.004-05:00

To forgive another person from the heart is an act of liberation. We set that person free from the negative bonds that exist between us. We say, "I no longer hold your offense against you" But there is more. We also free ourselves from the burden of being the "offended one." As long as we do not forgive those who have wounded us, we carry them with us or, worse, pull them as a heavy load. The great temptation is to cling in anger to our enemies and then define ourselves as being offended and wounded by them. Forgiveness, therefore, liberates not only the other but also ourselves. It is the way to the freedom of the children of God.

- Henri J. M. Nouwen

Thank you, Karen.

Stimulate.

2012-01-26T06:51:00.003-05:00

5. Keep a commonplace book, inspiration board, scrapbook, or catch-all box to keep track of ideas and images. Not only do such collections help you remember thoughts, they create juxtapositions that stimulate creativity. My catch-all happiness document for happiness is 500 pages long, single-spaced. When I need a mental jolt, I just skip around and read random sections. It always helps.

The Happiness Project offers this and eight other helpful suggestions for struggling creators.

Ghosts.

2012-01-26T06:40:00.004-05:00

How To Be A Retronaut does an outstanding "Ghosts of ..." photo-essay series that places vintage images of cities around the world within a contempory context. The lastest is from Lisbon ...

More at How To Be A Retronaut.

Awful.

2012-01-26T06:26:00.002-05:00

Experiencing the NHL version of a fifth grader's last day of school before Spring Break, the Red Wings started their All Star break a day early and got whacked by Montreal 7-2.

"It just reminds you why you should never get feeling too good about yourself," Babcock said, "because as soon as you do, you get brought down to earth. It was a little humble pie, to say the least. It's unfortunate that people came to see the Detroit Red Wings and never got to see them."

"I thought because we were playing in such a great building in such a great environment that it was going to be a no-brainer," Babcock said. "But we just were awful."

There's more at The Freep, but I'd skip it if I were you.

Happy Birthday, Burns.

2012-01-25T06:12:00.003-05:00

Wyeth, Distant Thunder, 1961

Poet Robert Burns was born on this date in 1759.

To a Mouse

On Turning up in Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785

Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickerin brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
’S a sma’ request:
I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,
An’ never miss ’t!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It’s silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,
Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,
An’ weary Winter comin fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee-bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turn’d out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,
An’ cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!

- Robert Burns

Recommence.

2012-01-25T05:57:00.000-05:00

Last night, St. Louis crossed the same line Michigan State did four years ago. On one side there is healthy competition. Two teams face off, one walks away the victor, and the other walks away knowing there could be a role reversal in their next matchup. On the other side there is unfettered hatred and loathing. Two teams compete, and one is hellbent on exerting their dominance via thuggery and foolish physicality.

The Blues repeatedly tried to goad the Wings into fighting. They beat the hell out of Brad Stuart. They put Darren Helm in a headlock in front of the net. They punched Jimmy Howard in the face with mere seconds left and the game out of reach. The list goes on.

St. Louis wanted to make a statement last night, and make a statement they did. They were more concerned with physicality than intelligent play. Taking a bad penalty was fine as long as there was a Red Wing in pain on the other end.

If this is what Detroit/St. Louis games are going to turn into then that's fine. I'll take talented, intelligent guys over grinding, undisciplined guys any day. Let the rivalry recommence, little brother. See you on April 4th.

Read the rest at The Octopi Garden.

Ray Wylie Hubbard, "Drunken Poet's Dream"

2012-01-25T05:47:00.000-05:00

Joyous.

2012-01-25T05:37:00.003-05:00

"(Fielder's agent) Scott Boras has always been able to do very good work with Mike Ilitch, the Tigers owner who just wants to give Detroit a championship," Gammons said. "He just wants people to come to downtown Detroit to be happy about something one way or another."

Gammons took it a step further, calling the signing an act of charity by Ilitch toward the city.

"They don't have to worry on the Tigers, about losing money," Gammons said. "That's a fact of life. You can't do that in Cleveland. You can't do that in Kansas City. You can't do that in most cities. The Tigers have done it because Mike Ilitch wants to give people in Detroit something to be joyous about. In some ways, to me, he's one of the most charitable men in America."

Read the rest at MLive.

Fielder gives the Tigers one of the premier left-handed sluggers in the game, a guy in his 20s who has already had a 50-homer season and a 141-RBI season, led his league in intentional walks last year, and finished third in the National League's MVP voting. He and right-handed Miguel Cabrera will be a nightmare for pitchers in the heart of the Detroit order.

Albom has more at The Freep.

The Infamous Stringdusters, "You Can't Stop The Changes"

2012-01-24T06:25:00.001-05:00

You cain't ...

Spirit.

2012-01-24T06:08:00.005-05:00

van Gogh, Barn with Moss-grown Roof, 1881

We lose a great deal when we lose the sense and feeling for the sun. When all has been said, the adventure of the sun is the great natural drama by which we live, and not to have joy in it and awe of it, not to share in it, is to close a dull door on nature's sustaining and poetic spirit.

- Henry Beston

Chaconne.

2012-01-23T23:17:00.000-05:00

From Bach's Partita No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1004

Hélèné Grimaud, piano ...

Viktoria Mullova, violin ...

17.

2012-01-23T22:32:00.004-05:00

The Red Wings fought, hit, skated and scored Monday to secure themselves a 17th straight victory at home.

Playing a tight and tense a game with the Blues that matched the two teams closeness in the standings, the Wings used two power play goals to win, 3-1, and take a three-point lead on the Blues in the Central Division. It's the seventh straight victory overall for the Wings.

Pavel Datsyuk, Johan Franzen and Niklas Kronwall produced the goals and Jimmy Howard protected a lead with several quality saves. Brad Stuart pasted Alex Pietrangelo along the boards and punched Chris Stewart in the face, providing the inspiration for a comeback in the second period.

Read the rest at The Freep.

UPDATE: Some highlights ...

Pavel's backhand biscuit into the basket ...

Jimmy with "The Gourmet Shot" ...

Smell ya, St. Louis ...

Aurora.

2012-01-23T18:36:00.002-05:00

An active region on the sun has spawned an M8.7 eruption – nearly an X-flare – that blasted a stream of charged particles toward Earth, due to arrive tomorrow (January 24, 2012). Experts at NOAA’s Space Weather Prediction Center are saying it is the strongest radiation storm since 2005. The eruption took place last night (January 22) at 9:59 p.m. according to clocks in the central U.S. (03:59 UTC on January 23). There is no danger to you on Earth’s surface, but satellites in orbit might feel the effects and your cell phone might act twitchier than usual. Plus … aurora alert at lower latitudes than normal!

Read the rest at EarthSky.

David Dondero, "Rothko Chapel"

2012-01-23T18:25:00.003-05:00

There was this line by Charlie Parker,
Somewhat worth remembering:
"If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn,"
Chances are you'll never be reborn

My religion is in nature, art and literacy
My religion is in science, music and poetry
My religion is the mountain, my church is in the seas
My religion is to love you yet my church is entropy
My religion is in your eyes but my church ain't organised
My faith is in the sweetness that you might realise
But my faith it could be fiction, my faith could not be smart
My religion is the weather, yeah, my church is in your heart

Antidote.

2012-01-23T18:17:00.001-05:00

A Monday prescription ... repeat as needed.

Thanks, Jess.

Vitality.

2012-01-23T18:10:00.002-05:00

There is a certain animal vitality in most of us which carries us through any trouble but the absolutely overwhelming. Only a fool has no sorrow, only an idiot has no grief - but then only a fool and an idiot will let grief and sorrow ride him down into the grave.

- Edward Abbey

Fire.

2012-01-23T17:51:00.006-05:00

The year of the dragon begins today. It is an auspicious year. Dragons partake of the five elements: water, earth, metal, fire, and wood. Like poet Walt Whitman, they are vast, they contain multitudes. After a Green Dragon or two, you too will be able to breathe fire.

If you are so inclined, follow the directions at The Blue Lantern.

Born in '64, this dragon'll stick with "Milk" ...

16.

2012-01-23T07:01:00.002-05:00

The Red Wings extended their franchise-record home winning streak to 16 games, and they needed extra time to get it done.

For the sixth time in their last eight games, the Wings went beyond regulation. Valtteri Filppula scored the only goal in the shoot-out to beat the Columbus Blue Jackets, 3-2, on Saturday night at Joe Louis Arena.

Jimmy Howard made 17 saves, including six in the third period, two more in overtime and didn't allow a goal against four Columbus tries in the shoot-out.

Read the rest at The Freep.

Michael Franks, "Dragonfly Summer"

2012-01-23T05:48:00.001-05:00

Halfway there ...