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Saturday, September 14, 2013

And yet, my brother




Brother, I knew you and I didn't.
We were so different in so many ways and yet,
We shared a common history, a common bond.

My memories are your memories.
Same father, mother, house, dog and yet,
We tell those stories as disparately as strangers.

We cheered for most of the same teams.
Our texts flew back and forth during games and yet,
So much went carefully unsaid, safely unsaid.

Our paths through life were very different.
We skirted each other's trails and yet,
Did that have to be, was this our-each choice?

I know you weren't always who you were.
I do understand, really, why things were and yet,
I still could not bridge the remaining divides.

There was sincere love between us,
Beneath the rub of our differences and yet,
It was sometimes hard to reach that deeply.

You have found your rest and peace.
You are free from any bonds here now and yet,
Our paths are the more divergent even for that.


- Posted via Hermes.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Wednesdays are like that

Good morning, Mr. Malleable, you unformed lump of clay possibilities, glass midway full of water, you Geiko's-happy-camel-on-hump-day. Given this holiday-Monday was part of the weekend and I have this Friday off, today remains the mid-point of a three-day week.


The morning dark keeps creeping later and later into the day, stealing back territory from the retreating hours of daylight. Completely dark and pouring rain when I first woke up, yet grey-filtered full light, wet, but sufficiently not-raining to have the car's rag-top rolled back by the time I start this drive into the campus. The weather is as indeterminate as the day of the week.
Suppose you ’re dressed for walking,
And the rain comes pouring down,
Will it clear off any sooner
Because you scold and frown?
And would n’t it be nicer
For you to smile than pout,
And so make sunshine in the house
When there is none without?
- Phoebe Cary, Suppose
The campus is between quarters again, with another two and a half weeks before the start of fall quarter. For now, for the relatively few of us moving around the buildings and walkways during the break, we wear the campus like a pair of oversized shoes, making too much noise with every step.

Speaking of noise, the seagulls are raucous this early Wednesday morning. I think that is supposed to mean they are moving inland in anticipation of more heavy weather.
I too many and many a time cross’d the river of old,
Watched the Twelfth-month sea-gulls, saw them high in the air floating with motionless wings, oscillating their bodies,
Saw how the glistening yellow lit up parts of their bodies and left the rest in strong shadow,
Saw the slow-wheeling circles and the gradual edging toward the south,
Saw the reflection of the summer sky in the water,
Had my eyes dazzled by the shimmering track of beams,
Look’d at the fine centrifugal spokes of light round the shape of my head in the sunlit water...
- Walt Whitman, Crossing Brooklyn Ferry
Kind of like that, but with more cloud and less golden sun.

Did anyone else catch the Sigur Rós concert (part of Apple's month-long live broadcast iTunes concert series in London) this weekend? Good stuff, Maynard (there, that's two TV commercial references in one blog post - a record for me, I think!). They did a nice 1.5 hour long mix of new and older tunes, including a sweet rendition of Svefn-G-Englar. Hmmm... its been a while since I've tuned the iPhone to my Sigur Rós playlist. Something, then, for the ride home later today.

As for this morning's in-coming commute soundtrack, it was a nice blend of tempos, style, and artists. If there was any point of discord, it was the rather jagged edge between Michel Legrand (all sixties soft-swinging piano and harmonica) and Phil Keaggy's sudden electric guitar. Taken as a pair - a gentle quiet start with an energy-infused conclusion.

Wednesdays feel much like that; make of them what you will.

Today's playlist:
- Michel Legrand: The Summer Knows
- Phil Keaggy: Arrow
- Mark Knopfler: The Car Was The One
- Rikarena: El Parar Pan Pan
- David Gray: Debauchery


- Posted via Hermes.