Admiration: Daily Post Photo Challenge, 29 April 2016

  • Show us someone or something you admire (and tell us about them, too!)

— Krista, The Daily Post

Here’s one:¬† David Bowie, who died of cancer early this year. Self cannot get the lyrics of his songs out of her mind. Here, the chorus of “Changes”:

Ch-ch-ch-ch changes
Turn and face the strange

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Listening to David Bowie on YouTube: “Changes”

Here’s another: Keith Tuma, Miami University Press. This man has steered the Press to indie greatness. Seriously.

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Keith Tuma of Miami University Press, at the 2016 AWP Book Fair in Los Angeles

Finally, shout-out to Nutschell Ann Windsor and Phoebe Lim of UCLA Extension’s Writers Program: Grace Under Pressure, Personified. Here they are at the UCLA Extension Writers Program booth at the 2016 AWP Book Fair in Los Angeles (Fabulous book fair, BTW).

UCLA always has the best swag. They gave out, among other goodies, a UBS stick, a leather-bound blank journal, and really good pens.

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Three Cheers for UCLA Extension’s Writers Program! Love the people. Here they are, doing Spin the Wheel at the 2016 AWP Book Fair in Los Angeles.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

Bowie: Lyrics, “Life on Mars”

Sailors fighting in the dance-hall
Oh man!
Look at those cavemen go
It’s the freakiest show.

— David Bowie, “Life on Mars”

This is a pretty freakish year.

Just because. First, Bowie and now

Prince

“When Doves Cry” — Aaargh, aaaargh, be still, self’s beating heart!

It’s too much.

Last week, in Heathrow, eating a sandwich and waiting for her flight to Dublin, her ears pricked up as Bowie came over the piped-in sound system: LIFE ON MARS.

What. An. Incredible. Song.

And, like today, SAAAAAAD.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Found You, William Harvey

Self looked him up last Fall, when she was wandering around the East Coast.

She didn’t even know his name, then.

All she knew was that, in the days following 9/11, she was stuck on Salon.com, reading anything and everything.

And there was a piece titled:

Juilliard Student Plays the Concert of His Life

Maybe that’s not the exact title, but that was the gist.

It was first-person. The writer was a freshman at Juilliard when 9/11 happened. He didn’t even have to think twice: he grabbed his violin, headed downtown. And then, he played in the Armory. Hours and hours. Until his fingers bled (? She thinks, anyway). And Juilliard sent its students to keep the music going. The students literally played until they couldn’t lift their arms anymore. Firemen were standing there, weeping. Exhausted and weeping.

Salon.com is still around (Thank goodness. It has introduced self to so many good writers) From time to time, self will do an archive search on Salon.com, but she never found the original posting. But, by dint of patient digging and Google, she found the student’s name. And she found his website. She found that the Armory concert was only the first of many good acts he was to do.

His latest project? He is “traveling to all 50 states in 2016, asking What is American culture?

Read his blog so you can follow him along. There’s still a lot of 2016 left!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Half-Light # 1: Cat Stevens, “Morning Has Broken”

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Early Morning, Lansing Street, Mendocino

The Daily Post Photo Challenge this week is HALF-LIGHT:

  • “See if you can capture the beauty of morning or evening half-light in your corner of the globe.”

To complicate things even more, we’re supposed to include “a favorite poem, verse, story, or song lyric.”

When self thinks of morning, she always thinks of the Cat Stevens song:

Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word

She found the lyrics on metrolyrics.com

Here’s morning just outside the Mendocino Art Center on Little Lake Street, in February:

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Morning, Little Lake Street, Just Outside the Mendocino Art Center

And here’s another verse of the same song:

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God’s recreation of the new day

And finally, a shot of the morning sun through the window of her unit in the Mendocino Art Center:

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Morning Has Broken! Through the Blinds of Self’s Unit in the Mendocino Art Center, January 2016

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Dance 3: Summer Concert, Stafford Park, Redwood City

One of the joys of owning a home only two blocks from Stafford Park: Wednesday nights throughout the summer, there are free musical concerts. And every available space on the grass is taken by picnicking families. FUN!

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Joy is to be a child again.

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To dance in circles on the grass!

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Conga Line?

Harmony 3: Hill House, Saturday Night

It was Bluegrass Night at the Hill House.

Self had to duck through the lobby: she left a terrible review about Hill House on Tripadvisor, and the lone staff on duty tonight was the same guy who checked her in.

The band tonight was Foxfire. The weather was terrible. Margo went with self.

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Guitars lined up, just before the performance started.

As usual, no flash:

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Chatting before getting started

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Guitars lined up, just before the performance started.

The singers expressed sentiments like “I’m richer by far with a satisfied mind” and The “the wealthiest man is a pauper sometimes compared with a satisfied mind.” There were¬† songs like “Slaughterhouse Gulch” and another called “Pinebox Sailor”.

Most interesting evening!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

 

 

Music: Sylvain Landry Photo Challenge Week 28

The Sylvain Landry Photo Challenge this week is MUSIC.

Here’s a picture of the main stage of New York City’s Carnegie Hall. Took my first tour ever, December 2015. We were only allowed to take pictures when the musicians weren’t rehearsing.

Dearest Mum played a concert here after she won The New York Times International Piano Competition, when she was 14:

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The Main Stage of Carnegie Hall, in between rehearsals: December 2015

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

 

The Gloaming, the Dying

Self absolutely hates the fact that, when she sat at her desk this morning to begin her tasks for the day, the first thing she saw after logging on was this:

DAVID BOWIE, 69, DIES OF CANCER

Oh Ziggy Stardust!

Mourn, mourn, mourn.

In honor of his passing, today Food & Wine posted a recipe of what was apparently Bowie’s favorite dish: Shepherd’s Pie.

The Year 2015: Very Stream-of-Consciousness

First Margarita Donnelly Prize for Prose. Mary Gaitskill. New York, New York. Carnegie Hall and Dearest Mum (Last night, front row seat, Trio Solisti. They killed Brahms. Absolutely killed it. Three standing ovations. From a New York audience. No joke). Florence & Venice with Niece. “Crackers” in Crab Orchard Review. Fan Fiction (self’s WIP: about Peeta as a prostitute!!!) garners more hits. London-Ireland-York (the last for the first time). Central Park walks. Middlemarch (swoon). Writers Group meet-ups. Twitter Hashtag Games & Folklore Thursday. Victorian Steampunk and Shadowhunters. Believing in dragons. Stay tuned.

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Carnegie Center’s Weill Hall, Before the Trio Solisti Concert Last Night

Tell Your Stories, My Dear, You Have So Many of Them

So here’s yet another one.

Dearest Mum was a child prodigy who won The New York Times Piano Competition when she was 13 or 14. Self will find that New York Times article if it kills her! Kills her! She played in Carnegie Hall! Self has a picture of Dearest Mum standing on the stage and taking a bow. She’s in a cute little black dress, white socks, and black Mary Janes. And behind her is a full orchestra.

Carnegie Hall is celebrating its 125th Anniversary with Carnegie Hall Stories. If you have a story that involves Carnegie Hall, now is the time to drop them!

The closest she has come to writing about this family history is in the story “Lizard,” when she has Dearest Mum presenting with a kind of incubus stuck to her back. So heartwarming, self always goes for the cozy and reassuring, in life as well as in art!

That story’s in her first book, Ginseng and Other Tales From Manila.

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