well it's like this,

today i was speaking with someone i work with about one of her favorite topics: her tomato garden. for weeks, i have found her in the kitchen engrossed in preparations for the day, and somehow we will come round to the topic of her concern that the forest of tomato plants she planted back in april/may would be thwarted by one thing or another: the too-much rain, the vines overgrowing each other and so blocking the sunlight needed to turn color, the quandry about which sort of posts to use to support the heaviest branches--she has never before seen such huge vines! and oh my gosh, when they'd finally gotten the needed support, growing now over what sounds like an enormous metal or some other structure (i havent seen it but im curious), the whole forest began to green and bloom and fatten and now, occasionally redden, even with all the rain. Oh my gosh, you have no idea!

really, i think about them alot, her tomatos -is that tomato with an e for plural (tomatoes) or not? i can never get it right. anyway, she comes alive with such sincere and innocent enthusiasm that a woman most people see and see tattoos, age, weight, class--blah blah-- here she is, in the morning kitchen, shining eyes and telling me about how her estranged husband came over and penitently put up this enormous and amazing structure to support her tomatos and it is a thing of beauty. hers.

she does most things with complete commitment: peels potatos, hauls off the cover to the bottom of the fridge to clear off the dust and grime that has accuulated, bakes a solid bakers dozen loaves of bread every morning and mostly remembers to get them out in time when the timer goes off, is compassionate but unsentimental, drinks whiskey, loves fishing, misses her mother who taught her how to fish, praises what is good and is diligently cautious and circumspect about what is clearly not, is completely intolerant of fools but considered like someone who has been burned and remembers it well. esp the learning. she is the kind of person  i would trust if push came to shove. and: she has a profound intelligence about food, which is very rare. artistic intelligence about it, meaning she really loves it.

it is possible to get through almost anything with the right ingredients present, and impossible if they are not. i mean, those ingredients which are neccessary to you alone or especially, and you have no choice about them.

once, when i thought that the pain of what i was living i couldnt endure, i took my father's advice, and learned to meditate. i remember everything about that time; it was when i learned to perceive things more deeply. not just emotionally, and sensorily, or through a network of empathies, but looking further into a meaning which was unrelated to, and didnt originate with, any pathy, sym or anti or otherwise. i remember the time of year, i remember places absolutely, i actually remember nearly objectively my own stage of development. isnt that funny? i was prompted by pain, i was standing at the cloisters in the bronx, in the parking lot, about to climb into an old saab and make the long drive back upstate. my father-in-law had just died, and although i loved him, and was sad about his death, it wasnt that. i wont say, but suffice: i didnt think i could find the onramp to the palisades parkway, or the strength to unlock the door when we got there and see a room full of evidence. a wall hanging, a couch, the clock. i didnt think so. but my father stood in the parking lot, hugging me, and he repeated instructions to me over and over. it was november.

today, miss b, as i call her, moved from tomatos to the subject of some funny stalks her sister had saved from the back of her truck "after 8 months!" and gave them to her to grow. she had been skeptical: will they grow? and she planted them in rooting powder and (she shrugged in perfect amazement) they did! they burst! and they were just like the flowers you find in a hawaiian lei. i told her: orchids are funny things, peculiar, they have a different thing going on. ive never been a natural orchid person, some folks are, but they are amazing and rewarding flowers if you stick it out. when juliet was born, her dad brought a bouquet of tiny, delicate purplish-blue blooms in the hundreds and they sat next to my bed like forever.

there's just no telling what can happen, or to whom, or when or how. only, there's: orchids, november, kindness, births, heartbreak and other assorted reasons to keep going on, like a really good mystery play.

ps how funny is this? today the blogcritics review came out and looking at the homepage of their site, i saw that there was a dvd release review on a movie made in 1974 by werner herzog called the enigma of kaspar hauser. which was a play i was working on back in 2000, when the above cloisters story happened.

california burning

my good friend debbie lives in the tahoe area and i was wondering if the fires had affected her--you see how well i stay in touch! hoping the best for them. nature just refuses to capitulate!

ryan adams kills it, neal's on guitar. check it. (is that a coke or some canned beer he's chuggin?)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QQjzOHvpiw

(well? juliet was watching her favorite secret vice (tokyo hotel) and this chick christina sturmer on german youtube videos this afternoon-man, something had to be done! ;) besides, its great video and it opens with a hendrix reference so there you have it.)

mostly im thinking of wall-2-wall sound and then absolute silence, followed by huge sound. no more fucking around. it's donesville.

sometimes it snows in april

sometimes you cant get what you want but if you try you might find-

etc. new york is feeling the heat. hang in there, new york! here's something for you all:





'member that? well do ya? ;) ok, so it was february but whatever. or you can hear tom sing about alice over here-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79xE_a286_E

also, my love to dear friends who have held me up throughout. looking forward to the opportunities to hold up too.

five words:

victoria's secret semi-annual swimsuit sale. oh yeah.

have you heard that there is a big world trade org meeting in germany somewhere, and that they are rebuilding the berlin wall in a fencing material to keep protesters at bay--sorta drown the raucous shout? yup. no more of that pesky seattle problem, rebuild the wall!



take that, world leaders!

naw, i just mean, i do need a new 'kini, but also: is everybody sleeping? is there hope for hope? is jenn riffing on yet another item while being in general another cranky non-contributer to the solution? all these and more, addressed in tonight's episode of masterpiece theatre... right here on bbc1.

the proof is in the fire

you touch before it moves away,
but you must always know
how long to stay
and when to go"
(patty griffin)


songwriting like everything changes, apparently. ive always stopped everything before to go and put it down: usually a riff, either rhythm, music or lines of lyric. but lately i cant, i just have it drift through me like a breeze, and although im always afraid i wont remember what it was, what was coming to bear on the whole thing, but then, there it is, in the kitchen, or driving to the bank. the thing still lives. it's very comforting. its a completely different way of bringing it in, and requires so much more trust than i ever had.


"there's no mercy in a live wire,
no rest at all in freedom.
of the choices we're given
it's no choice at all"


she's good, really good.

coming around

finally putting tour things together. found a great drummer--you cant imagine how hard THAT'S been-- not that there arent great drummers but a good fit can be hard to find. somehow the head can take a hard knock from the heart, altho some folks find it's the other way 'round... however, the sound is getting right and im-a looking forward to it.

this'll be the first time we're throwing more covers in. ive been irritated about doing other people's music just for the cuz that ive got a plethora of whatnot to sing of my own and it felt retired to do the other, but ive been to hear some other folks' shows and noticed i always really enjoyed it when it was done as both a tribute to great songwriters and also a revamp for the present moment. very mahvelous.

btw, had yet another doggie visitation, this time a malamute with a thin belly and sweet disposition. dont know why they turn up but they do. shep would have been amused to see the outcome of his leash.


i told you that thing was useless.

well, it lasted longer than the others.

yeah, only cause i wasnt around to chew it up.

whatever.

(silence) did you like her?

oh shep. of course i did, but mainly for your sake.

right, well, glad you still care.

it'll never stop, shep. not never.

ok. me too.


life goes on. writing songs again. nice to have it come around. getting a holiday week off to sit around in the water and sand and dream about great big things. not a moment too soon.

voicemail from the end of the world

juliet, calling last month from college:


hi mom. um, im calling you from an adirondack chair at the end of the world [the far lawn edged in shrubs at her college], i am relaxing, i can hear drummers nearby, drumming somewhere across the grass, i am chewing mint mojito orbit gum, and um, i am happy, i have dad who lives in berlin, and a mom who lives somewhere in texas right now, and um, let's see, i am wearing a really pretty yellow dress, and i have to go to class but i am going to be late and thats ok, it's springtime and there are flowers everywhere. love you, bye.


you understand, i have nothing at all to really worry about. however i do, and also i dont. meanwhile, i am listening to some really good tunes by storyville and looking forward to playing out on the high seas again. i have missed being a road dog, and a pirate.

if your heart is willing then your head can rest

great lee ann womack lyrics!

did you know that the human eye, scientifically speaking, cannot recognize what it has never seen before--i mean, things which have never been experienced? so we think we are seeing something we can imagine or understand, we literally think it is something else, until we can begin to approach the thing which we recognize firstly, we havent known, and second, that we are in the presence of change, and so change. and can begin to see.

anyway, that's how i live. thats what juliet was telling me today, and about her spending time at calarts where i went to school back a hundred years ago, and the great hall, where all the gallery openings were held, and she saw places i had seen, we ate sour cream and onion chips and whoppers and told stories.

a storm came on late in the afternoon and laid down some rain. we went for a walk in it, and carried our own umbrellas, hers pink, mine clear lined around with red. i got it a couple years ago at a little shop in the upper west of manhattan, back when i still believed in certain things.

its not that ive stopped believing. only now i am seeing the changes that have happened, and can start to see, but differently. and actually, i dont mind at all.

then again, james asked me: who do you write these blogs for? whom are you addressing? and i thought it was a good question, so i told him, im talking to the human condition, i am speaking of human beingness. which sounds really stupid writing it, and probably sounded pompous when i said it, but actually, its true.

the 50 most important albums ever

have you ever heard such shit? that's an actual book. it's written for people with terminal dipshit-itis. kinda like, o, i know, let's have some more status quo, cause god knows we're short on it.

anyway, there is such thing as relevant music and concerns in the world, and even though i sound like an asshole saying it like that- "O! how could they?!"-- it's still true. i am HUGELY bored with cowardice.

moving on. um, ok, well, moving on altogether. ;)

today i looked at black and whites of kollwitzplatz in berlin, which juliet had arrive in a pair of boxes this afternoon. i have always loved the work of kathe kollwitz, in fact, i was including her in a piece about a number of interesting and amazing women artists once upon a time. she has done remarkable work, back in the war, when it was a tough thing to get done. kinda like now.

the river is still moving too fast to swim in, what with all the downpouring this spring. ah well, there are calmer places, and little sandy areas to get your self all wet. im thinking to bring a good book and a bottle of pellegrino and some gummy bears. fuck it. why not?