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Peak of the Eclipse with my Point and Shoot (and while out on the street, we also got to see a drug deal go down)

For finer photos, take a look on line at what photographers with big lenses and tripods (or maybe even telescopic cameras) have done.  If I’d gone for a walk, I could have taken a picture of a big red moon over the dome.  I’m just imagining that I did that (imagination sometimes being as good as the “real thing”), as I get ready to get back into bed under a cat for another hour and half of sleep before getting up to practice.

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    “Yes We Can”

    Yesterday’s inaugural concert spurred all sorts of memories from me.  When I was a child, we went a number of times to the Clearwater Revival Festival and other folk festivals where Pete Seeger was a headline.  He is just ten years older than my Dad, and though my parents were not among those who became famous, they were hanging around the Village and my Dad was doing activist things at the same time.  James Taylor’s “Shower the People” was a favorite when I was in junior high school.  There was a boy from camp who played the guitar who I remember saying that “a little James Taylor goes a long way [towards getting a girl’s attention].”  Bruce Springsteen, John Cougar Mellenkamp, U2, Bob Marley, Aaron Copeland, and the great oldies (played at the concert and listed as Obama’s top ten ipod songs), are part of the music of my high school, college, and law school years.

    Not needing music or advertising to help me decide to vote, I didn’t pay much attention to how music was being used in the campaign.  But here was the music, and it was mostly my music, too.  The concert was very clever, designed to appeal to black and white, young and old, and populist — they were careful to have the performers whose oevre might not appeal to an older or younger crowd stick to songs with mass appeal.

    Interestingly, it gave me an insight to those conservative guys from the middle of the country who said they liked W because he was the kind of guy they could hang with and have a beer.  The concert was a concert I might have attended when I was in high school or college or law school.  I had an insight about what it feels like to feel comfortable with the education and background of the President, but only up to a point.  I enjoyed this trip down memory lane, but it did not impact my politics or how I would view the Presidency.  There is a fine line between relating and agreeing, appreciating and accepting without question.

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    Still There Were

    Whatever might
    have happened
    or didn’t happen,
    whomever I might
    have encountered
    or didn’t encounter,
    whatever might
    have worked
    or did not work,
    whatever I might
    have completed
    or left unfinished,
    whatever I might
    have stirred up
    or might have
    begun to heal,
    whatever might
    have been, or was–
    still there were
    the blossoms,
    still the moon.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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    The Murtis Rearranged Themselves Again

    murtis

    It’s an idiosyncratic grouping, but it is my weaving of stories for the moment.

    I believe the brass dish under the cactus on the left was a wedding present, though I am not absolutely certain of that.  It was a long time ago.

    The cloth with the tassels came from a shaman in Peru; I was there for 9/11.

    I bought the gray scarf when I was in Costa Rica on a retreat with John Friend from a world-traveling fellow yoga practitioner who had brought an array of beautiful scarves to Costa Rica from Thailand.

    Other things were brought home from India–mostly by me, but one a treasured gift from a friend.

    The porcupine quills were also an inspired and loving gift.

    The square of marble under the cactus on the right I found on the street in the neighborhood.  The cactii came from a yard sale over a decade ago.  They were being sold for only blooming once a year.

    The bit of mother of pearl comes from Centerport beach on Long Island. I went there last fall the day before my father’s memorial service.

    Other things came from vendors at Eastern Market and one from New York City.

    The chestnut is from Stanton Park. I picked it up on my way to work one beautiful day last year.

    The heart-shaped stone came from Arizona when I was on a meditation retreat some time late in the last decade.  I’ve been to some really lovely places on this planet.

    The mala Kuan Yin is wearing I strung and designed:  rudraksha beads from my first meditation mala (which had broken), labradorite, and emeralds on silk thread.

    The jet beads belonged to my grandmother Rose.

    There’s a story about the lump of black and red rock behind Ganesha, but I think I’ll leave that for another day.

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