(via nirvikalpa-deactivated20130416)

I saw this all in a dream I had 9 years ago. I saw this all the other day. It was even better this time.

“we let the goldfish go.” -vm

“I tell my friends about you.” -J Roddy Walston

I had been told that white flowers give a stronger scent at night. This night I was coming home late, walking alone through a cold, city-illuminated mist. Having wrapped myself up tight for weeks, I had spent the night sweaty-screamy-shakin’ to a band sweaty-screamy-playing back to me. My heart was re-opened. I walked under heavy white lilacs; it was true, they really did smell stronger.

The next morning, I took some of my students on a walking trip to the Arnold Arboretum. The build-up had been fantastic. They work hard for a couple of months preparing for the trip, but because I’ve been taking kids for a few years, they are poised, waiting for the Arboretum visit from the very beginning of the year. There is hype, word on the street, word passed down from older siblings. In the days leading up to the trip, kids see me in the hall and with eyebrows raised blurt out, “We’re going. We’re going this week.”All I have to do is point at them, raise my eyebrows back and smile. What they hear is, “Yes, it is. Your day. Your day is just about here.”

As I was passing out clipboards, this boy looked up at me and with the widest eyes said, “I can’t believe this day has finally come.” He said it as if he was being delivered into grace. Standing in a smelly cafeteria, we were transported by his delirious anticipation.

Bad weather was our only worry. It had been raining for weeks. But it seemed to be taking a rest, so we walked out of the building. We have to walk through an underpass to get out of the square and into the residential neighborhood. As we do this, all the kids’ voices change. Their voices were bright, but they spoke to each other gently. Up by a flowering dogwood tree, a girl turned to me and said, “If only we all took a little better care of the earth, it would be so beautiful.” Her voice was pure. Once we entered the Arboretum, whispers of, “This is so beautiful,” sparked through the group. It was the sound of vibrant kid voices. With the weather keeping everything hushed, and the all of the wonder of the natural world, they could not contain their radiance and joy. Neither could I.

World’s End, MA. 5/28/11

I can’t tell you

how persuasive the sky was

how static the clouds were

how long-legged and graced-out I felt

how they saw me coming and passed me by

stopping to hold my hand for a while

Why I Keep Falling In Love with Jonathan Richman Over and Over

I first saw Jonathan Richman play when he was slightly older than I am now. He played a big hollow-body Gibson guitar. He shimmied. He told stories. He dropped to his knees. He picked up a drummer town to town. It wasn’t until late the next day that I realized I hadn’t stopped smiling. I realized I couldn’t remember what he looked like.

Bold and shameless, I hadn’t understood before. Bold and shameless, I was bereft no more.

Needless to say, I was foolishly in fan love and going to see him when I could, with friends who fell in fan love as well. It had been a while, but I went to go see him play this week. I wrote to a friend that he was more stunning than ever. She wrote back asking what was different.

Now, here is why I keep falling in love with Jonathan Richman over and over. I wrote:

In responding to your question, I realized I don’t know how much different a Jonathan show is, maybe just in his mastery. Fundamentally everything is the same. Which is extraordinary.

He is getting more physically rumpled. He really enjoys making fun of himself.

Smiling or not, it seemed as though the whole audience was shooting cartoon parenthesis from their ray guns of happiness. And that really isn’t any different.

I think for me, how I feel a bit disconnected, and like so much, I am just trying to get a zillion things done…and clean up at the end of the day, to hear Jonathan play a beautiful version of *Summer Feeling* and having heard him play it for almost 20 years, and for it to be even more beautiful, is amazing.

You know when you hope for something, and it is bittersweet, because realistically, you know it shouldn’t happen? We are part the natural trajectory of going to see him play. It is still filled with magic and wonder. He delivers. We bare witness. To be able to follow through and actualize that level of reciprocity, that level of hope is something that shouldn’t happen. It rocks. Screamy fangirl rocks.

And to hear him say, as he steps away from the mic, “Tommy, take us somewhere. Anywhere.” is just fucking unbeatable.

I like going to the beach for such a long time that I am reduced to drawing the collection of bathing suits before me. My friends generally get postcards that look very similar to this.

This is what the willows by the swollen rivers looked like.

(for some reason this is how it loaded.  play it and close your eyes.  you can see them better that way anyway.)

“I Shall Not Be Moved”

Shirley Ann Lee

Downriver Revival, Double U Sound/Numero Group