Monday, June 29, 2009

Bonk

I normally am pretty careful to only post about subjects I think anyone at all who knows me (friends, family, coworkers, musical colleagues, students, etc.) would be comfortable reading, since this blog, although not read by all that many people, is still totally public and easy for anyone looking to find. Unfortunately, in order to review the last book I read, Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, I would have to change that pretty drastically. Sex is a subject I have always felt very comfortable talking about with other people who are also comfortable talking about it. Unfortunately, I've found, there aren't a lot of people who are all that comfortable talking about it. Suffice it to say, the book was very interesting, hilarious, and something I would recommend to pretty much anyone who is interested.

Friday, June 26, 2009

MJ

Thanks for the music, Michael Jackson. May you rest in peace. Oh, and the moonwalk. That was pretty awesome.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Getting To Know Your Leftovers

1. If you don't finish your plate at a restaurant, how often do you take the leftovers home? If you do take them home, do you usually end up eating them?

2. If you order take out and don't finish everything you ordered, how likely is it that you will finish the leftovers in the next day or so?

3. If you are eating a plate/bowl of food at home and don't finish it, but think you might eat it later, would you consider putting the plate/bowl in the fridge "as is" until later? or would you insist on putting it into a tupperware or other sealed container?

4. Do you eat cold pizza? Do you normally reheat leftovers?

5. Do you have a microwave? If so, do you use it a lot?

6. Have you eaten any leftovers today? If so, what? If not, when is the last time you ate leftovers?

(me - 1. Almost always. yes.; 2. Pretty likely; 3. I would probably just put the plate/bowl in the fridge until later; 4. I am not opposed to cold pizza. The only things I usually reheat are dishes with rice.; 5. No, but I used to have one and I used to use it a lot.; 6. Yep - a little Burmese and a little Indian. Yum.)

I realize this is kind of a random topic...

Monday, June 22, 2009

Phidylé

The grass is soft for slumbering
Under the cool poplar trees,
By the slope of the mossy springs,
Which in the flowering meadows
Sprouting in thousands,
Lose themselves among the dark thickets.
Rest, oh Phydilé!
Noonday on the leaves
Sparkles and invites you to slumber!
Among the clover and the thyme,
Alone in the full sunshine,
The bees hum in their flight;
A warm perfume fills the air
At the turn of the paths,
The red poppy is drooping,
And the birds, grazing the hill with their wings,
Seek the shade of the wild rose bushes.
Rest, oh Phidylé!
But, when the orb,
Descending in its brilliant curve,
Will cool its smoldering heat.
Let your loveliest smile
And your tenderest kiss
Reward me for waiting!

- Leconte de Lisle

Saturday, June 20, 2009

i thank you God for most this amazing

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

- e.e. cummings

Friday, June 19, 2009

Sleeping in the Forest

I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

- Mary Oliver

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

With That Moon Language

Admit something:

Everyone you see, you say to them, "Love Me."

Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise
someone would call the cops.

Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect.

Why not become the one who lives with a
full moon in each eye that is
always saying,

with that sweet moon language,
what every other eye in the world is dying to hear?

- Hafiz

Monday, June 15, 2009

There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground

Today, like every other day
I wake up empty and frightened.
Don't go to the door of the study
And begin to read a book.
Instead, take down the dulcimer.
Let the beauty of what you love
Be what you do.
There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

- Rumi

Monday, June 08, 2009

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

by Mary Oliver

Friday, June 05, 2009

O boundless, boundless evening

O boundless, boundless evening.
Soon the glow
Of long hills on the skyline will be gone.
Like clear dream country now, rich-hued by sun.
O boundless evening where the cornfields throw
The scattered daylight back in an aureole.
Swallows high up are singing, very small.
On every meadow glitters their swift flight,
In woods of rushes and where tall masts stand
In brilliant bays.
Yet in ravines beyond
Between hills already nests the night.

(Text translated by Christopher Middleton, from the German of George Heym)