Memories of our forebears

From Bobby McFerrin's interview, Catching Song, with Krista Tippett: "[W]e are embodied memories of our ancestors. I have my father in me — I have information in my head. I know my dad; I can tell you stories about my dad because he told me them or I watched them. And he in turn has a memory of his father, and so on and so on. So I began to think, well am I — you know, am I accessing a memory when I sing? . . . it's like an ancestral memory, like, we all have it, you know. So how far back does it go? I mean, maybe it goes all the way back, you know."

Photos today from 18.Mar.2011. The first from Center St. pres de chez nous, & around Dudley Square en marchant au acupuncture. Que je suis francais aujourd'hui!

In memoriam: Dad

I remember our small sail boat we had for awhile at the cabin. These photos are from Aunt Buzz, so I think they must be from the Berger's abode in Canada. I wonder if this is a sunrise or a sunset.

In memoriam: Mom

"Her face, for a long time now, rested only against walls or stood upright on tables in framed photographs, and he scarcely remembered a conversation they had, just a sentence or two."

from "Someday this will all be funny"
by Lynne Tillman

Fortunately I have my family and friends to help me remember.

Not just for gays any more

Totally fabulous! er I mean awesome.

Be Here Now

While Mr. Trautwein's carrer has certainly been higher profile than mine, and the effects of the virus on his body more severe, his experience with the disease and reaction to it closely mirror my own. If you don't have time to read the entire article, here are the last couple paragraphs:

"My intimacy with health care in America has been costly and exhausting. I know these are small prices to pay for life.

What I’ve gained is precious. Above all, the constant companionship of plague has taught me that life is about living, not cheating death. Fighting disease is required and struggling with life inevitable. But I accept the outcomes now, whatever they are. My disease does not make me special, nor does my survival make me courageous.

On that day I walked from the hospital knowing I had “it,” I was given a great gift: the realization that we all dangle from that most delicate of threads and that the only way to live a life is to love it.

I haven’t died on schedule, and I’ve been learning not to live life on one either. "

Les Paganini

I'm not usually fond of folks moving around over much during performance but in this case . . .



The finale, c'est incroyable, If only we could do this when forced to play this piece @ weddings.

One if by land

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