Sunday, October 20, 2013
Thanks to caring friends excited to be going on vacation to the beach, and who love “family time,” I was able to spend some wonderful days by the ocean in great company. Via the internet, I just listened to a “flash-mob” small orchestra in a city square, prompted by a little girl dropping a coin into a black-tied, bald bassist’s upturned hat. How we choose to “spend” our coins, our time, our energies can bring beautiful surprises full of music of all kinds. Sitting on the balcony at the hotel room, 16 floors up, looking at the endless water, feeling the wind from the sea that is like no other, I felt my whole body smiling.
Such a sense brings Magritte to my mind. The modern image, poetry for poetry’s sake, the juxtaposition of layers of life, the symbols that beget symbols and march forward into a world not yet seen yet imagined as each image comes to life. The ocean tides remind me. The laughter that comes with friends sharing life, the moments as they spring up, pass, fill, march forward, ease into a night and day, the sun shining, clouds hazing over water, the bright movement of bodies of all sizes happy to move over the sand bridge to the sea.
These song lyrics came to mind, too. Written by Richard and Robert Sherman for Walt Disney’s Carousel of Progress, commissioned in 1964 for the World’s Fair: “There’s a great big beautiful tomorrow, shining at the end of every day.”
Being at the ocean invites such delirious optimism, the constant smiling that happy faces and happy music brings. Hearing the rumbling of motorcycles on the street far below, mingling with the sound of waves just on the other side of the boardwalk, seeing the empty carousel rides with their bright colors- all gave me a renewed image of the celebrations of being alive in so many ways. Like the review introducing the Museum of Modern Art’s Fall survey show of Magritte’s Art, this trip for me was good, solid fun. What can be better than that?
Sunday, October 06, 2013
In the other room,
The sun room,
Even when dusk,
The small blue bird jumped onto the table.
A striped head ducked,
Then folded wings to raise a glass of water and bring it to its beak.
Bright blue wings with white stars.
Feathers starkly beautiful,
Like stained glass.
They waved to me as water
Dripped from the beak.
Life, it said. Drink!
Thursday, October 03, 2013
Roar, she says,
This doyenne young thing,
I’m here, there, everywhere.
I smile, first, before I step aside
And find the limelight made by me
And my shadow eons ago,
An easing into