LSL - 112212/12:17
Wishing Happy Thanksgiving to my family and friends. Whether turkey or ham, Tofurkey or SPAM; gizzard or bread crumb or some other stuffing; potatoes au gratin, mashed, or similar fluffing; corn and green beans, french bread or rye; pumpkin or apple or sweet potato pie: Eat good, eat hearty, extend your well-wishes, but don't get so full you can't help with the dishes. [=
LSL - 112212/12:17
0 Comments
Keep My Things*In my youth, I had good friends. A few of them would become the brightness shining into my otherwise clouded catastrophe. The young me, savvy and aloof, didn't much care for the awkward conformity of convention. Considering how the world turned out, I probably should have. Still, no matter how shaky sanity seemed, I found solid ground with my friends. We were young together, in that halcyon daze. This is for them. [=
*Originally posted on Tumblr 051612 LSL - 070512/22:26 We’re told love is feeling. And, in a way, we all know that’s true. Feelings are good, but they’re part of a grander sentiment. If love is feeling, isn’t love also action? And wouldn’t any notion of that nature also be? Some of our most common, human exchanges are, at best, a balance between the two. When we use the phrase, “I remember you,” for example. Meaningful words, no doubt. Meaningful, but passive. “Memories of you occur to me, from time to time.” When said in an active voice, the expression becomes, “I purposefully endeavor to preserve memories of you.” I spent a few hours of last night in the company of some of my oldest friends. We were young together... young and inspired and nearly inseparable. What halcyon days those were, indeed. I’m serially attached to my memories of our many adventures together. Over time, I’ve remembered these friends—puposefully endeavored to preserve memories of them. They turned out to be very respectable men, my friends. I’m truly fortunate they’re still in my life. And I like the way it feels when I love them. [=
*Originally posted on Tumblr 122911 LSL - 050912/22:43 >Prince - For your concert performance in Minneapolis, late summer 1988... the Lovesexy tour. For the few weeks I waited for the concert date to arrive, I could hardly think of anything but seeing you in person—something I'd often imagined. You and I were less than 500 feet apart for a little while. Your musicianship was as good as it had ever been, and watching Dr. Fink and Sheila E. shooting baskets while you jammed on your guitar was killer... you are truly a gifted artist and showman. I knew before it had completely been lowered to the stage that the big neon heart had the word "yes" inside it, and I felt like I'd genuinely jacked-in to a little of your vibe in that moment. And when you drove that white convertible around the stage, I clapped my ass off... and I was so doing the Alphabet St. rap right along with Cat.
>Denzel Washington - For your performance in the film Glory. I can't begin to identify with any of the constituent attitudes relevant to racism. Mostly because it’s a stupid idea, anyway. Still, as an American white, it would be unreasonable of me to ignore the treatment of African and other slaves by many of those who founded and promoted this country. The glossed-over treatment this chapter was given me in “history” class was, in retrospect, a laughable farce, offered only as fodder to take tests with. Not until I saw Glory, (and after a lot of subsequent reading about the real history of American slavery), did I get a glimpse of the "everyday" atmosphere of our country at that time, and how slaves were actually treated. Until then, only the TV series Roots exposed me similarly to that part of our history. The scene in which your character stoicly takes his punishment for going to the barn dance was some of the best acting I have yet seen in any film, and I've not since seen such an authentic portrayal of his heroic military unit. >Tori Amos - For your song Silent All These Years. My early- and mid-twenties were full of the personal revelations typical of that stage in life. I'd seen loss, abuse, poverty, want and despair in my youth, just as many of my generational contemporaries had. Faith offered me a place to put the deepest damage, but many of the other residual feelings had little voice. I think some of the best words ever penned are the opening line to your song: "Excuse me, but can I be you for a while?" I can hardly hear them without going right back to those heady and confusing days. Your sweet and rousing piano arrangement lifted my soul's ear, and gave many of my emotional expressions something to be reflected in... a feeling, albeit fleeting, I can only describe as wonderful. >Toni Collette - For the scene in the film The Sixth Sense, where your character and her son are caught in traffic because of an accident involving a bicyclist. It's a strange thing to be a child. I don't mean a juvenile, I mean a person with parents. I'm convinced we're created with some kind of mechanism with which to process the ideas of father and mother, as they are among the most unique and puzzling features of humanity. When that relationship is unreasonably strained, or taken too far away from its best expression, often sorrow and emptiness follow. I've not seen the struggle to cope with what those roles do to our souls portrayed better than when your character tells her son what she said at her mother's grave. You were there, in those moments, and I was there with you... as much as it's reasonable to be, anyway. >My Friends - For your time, your treasure, and all the cherished places each of you abides in my heart. I'm not altogether sure why some people mean so much in one arena of life, and others less, but it's clear this is a foundational truth of the human experience. More than most other kinds of relationships, friendship is at once both enriching and rewarding; passionate and volatile. I'm often at a loss to express adequately the depth my feelings to them, but plainly said... I love my friends. I've often thought of them as extended family. Most of my friendships have been dynamic, some temporary, and all have been a way of revealing some aspects about life, and myself, I otherwise might have missed. I don't easily share my burdens, but I have on many occasions had my spirit genuinely lifted by the listening ear of a friend. |
NOTE: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Please contact website administrator for more information.
Other Good BlogsMike's Blog
RoosterChick's BlogMaria's BlogTags
All
Archive
May 2013
|