Those Bits of Sanity

I was told
by an experienced friend
“what kept you sane outside of marriage,
will keep you sane inside of marriage.”

I have not been sane enough.

But why?

One year into my marriage,
still trying to fit in my sanity.

When do I write words?
When do I write music?
When do I sit and read and contemplate?
When do I go out for a run?

My husband tells me, “do it more.”
“Let me see that part of you.”
Oh, how I thought I was failing.
“It’s an invitation. To make you know you are safe.”

Safety. I hate the word.
Overused, misapplied, a baby blanket, an excuse for not moving forward.

Safe is not always a cozy feeling, so easily perceived.
Try a gulp of faith. Disciplined trust.

My mothering is often based on some birth coaching
I received:
“Be brave, Mama.”

Sanity comes in my courage.

(*a poem from 2013)

August 27, 2014 0

Why Beauty Makes Us Cry

A few weeks ago something so beautiful happened in my daily life that I opened up my wordpress immediately upon arriving home. I jotted in the subject line “Why Beauty Makes Us Cry,” but then was pulled away by supper and evening activities duty.

Every day since then, I’ve opened up this draft and asked myself, “Why DOES beauty make us cry?” I can’t remember for the life of me what I was thinking that day. I lost it. This is a bummer because I think if I could figure out why beauty makes us cry, I would have a best selling book career on my hands. Oh, and I would understand a whole lot more about life and art.

Can you help me? Why do you think beauty makes us cry? (It also makes us do a myriad of other things, too, but why cry?)

Is it because our souls are meant to be pure and stainless, so beautiful things provide a sharp juxtaposition against our ugly (selfish, angry, hurt, envious, proud) selves? Is it because beauty outside of us awakens those truly beautiful parts (humility, generosity, creative processes, selflessness) inside of us and the tears are what makes more beauty grow?

Watching Giselle, as performed at Teatro dell’Opera in Rome, was a tearful event for me, but this was not what made me cry the other day.

July 4, 2011 5

Lessons from Malcolm McLaren

I may never be so brash or so forward or so boldly brazen as I make my art, but the ideals of punk rock will always remain philosophies I cannot and would rather not escape. There is nothing so valuable as truth and honesty–those old buzz words. Transparency and authenticity–those new(er) buzz words.

Real art comes from reality. It draws from real perceptions and communicates in clarity and stand alone-ness.

Here are some lessons I gleaned today from Malcolm McLaren’s TED (not sure it was actually at TED) talk in October 2009:

Better to be a failure than a benign success.
Do not lose the ability to see the artistic value of the banal.

Here is McLaren, who famously led the British punk rock fashion (with Vivienne Westwood) and rock scene (managing the Sex Pistols) in the 1970’s, discussing authentic creativity verses karaoke culture. This talk was given about 7 months before his death in April 2010. If you’ve ever wanted to know how someone ends up in a certain way, McLaren explains his path of development in a rather interesting way.

Let there be no karaoke art from me.

*Note McLaren’s beautiful and classic sweater in the video–a far cry from 1970’s punk rock.

June 28, 2011 0

John Ashbery: Part 6

Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA
photos by Naphtalia

June 15, 2011 0

John Ashbery: Part 5

Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA
photos by Naphtalia

June 14, 2011 0

John Ashbery: Part 3

Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA
photos by Naphtalia

June 12, 2011 0

John Ashbery: Part 1

Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA
photos by Naphtalia

June 10, 2011 0

May the Road Rise Up

I cornered myself into writing a piece for the choir to sing at graduation. I was searching for a certain version of this traditional Irish blessing “May the Road Rise Up to Meet You,” but I couldn’t find one. I then told the choir and the office that we were performing an original version of said blessing. Oops. Now my hands are tied and I have to pull through. No worries, though, I’m used to this kind of situation. When it comes to music, I always say yes. And when it comes to writing, I always say, “Why not? I can do it!”

I spent most of today’s after school time in the choir room going over option after option. My Italian staff book, the one I wrote E’s wedding processional in, is now filled with new ideas that only spur on more new ideas. Clusters and rhythms–that is my theme.

Now, if I can just dream up (literally while I sleep) a fantastic chordal movement for “May God hold you in the palm of his hand,” I’ll be set. Here’s to going to bed energized!

I am singing these words for you.

May 12, 2011 0

Seduced A Little Every Day

Connecting the dots of my online community today, I found a picture of myself being seduced a little every day. I started with a friend’s post about how she had been published by Ruminate magazine. This led me to a blog by a Ruminate contributor who mentioned a desire to be seduced a little every day by the compact moments of beauty that arise.

Of course, she hadn’t come up with this clever phrase, but had been inspired by a fashion icon and photographer called The Sartorialist who used this phrase in a short film. The Sartorialist was discussing the impact of living a truly visual life. He talked about how he spends four or five hours every day really looking at people and finding those most natural moments of beauty to capture on film and post on his blog. He doesn’t look for a lot of great photos, he just keeps his eyes open for the good ones.

This, of course, reminds me of Amy March–You only need one as long as he’s the right one--and I find myself connecting all the little dots I love. Art, interaction, community, love, whimsy, and belief.

Ways I was seduced today:

* the determination on B’s face as she discussed her ongoing struggle with administration’s approval of her play

* the “you’re ridiculous, but we accept you and laugh anyway” look of six sophomore guys as I told them stories of my high school self

* the shimmering blond of a 3 year old’s hair as she took my hand and led me to my dinner chair

*the complete darkness of my basement when the pre-bedtime movie finished and no one got up to turn on the light

*the fact that M. took 15 minutes to catch up on the phone even while she was shopping for a new wardrobe

I only need this life I live in order to be seduced a little every day.

March 22, 2011 1