SEPARATED FROM ORDINARY MIND

The Buddha said:

Existence and non-existence are extremes,
Purity and impurity are extremes as well,
Thus, having relinquished both extremes,
The wise do not dwell even in the middle.

today is the first day of the celebration of the great tibetan scholar, longchenpa. at the nyingma institute, we marked it by a 3 or 4 day continuous chant. you'd sit for 2-3 hour shifts, keeping the chant going all day & all night. i used to love the early morning shift at 3am. at the end of the ceremony, the practice was dedicated to relieving the suffering of all sentient beings.

on my own, i can think of lots of worse ways to spend my time.

"LOVE WAS OUT OF MY CONTROL..."

Greg Dulli "Paper Thin Hotel" from Columbia Records on Vimeo.

"you go to heaven once you've been to hell"

cohen has always keenly observed & recorded our inevitably failed attempts at transcendence through human relationships, specifically romantic ones. in all the flailing about, there can be moments that actually open us up to seeing the world differently. that would be "satori" in zen, not nirvana but an awakening that might lead to it. of course the trick is being open to the revelation; most of the time, it just flashes by unnoticed.

that's what this song is all about. dulli is right on top of the revelation cohen provides & delivers on it's promise. this is a perfect & very human valentine for all our past loves.

enjoy.
this song originally appeared on the infamous death of a ladies man album.

ANN'S DINNER

CITRUS SALAD W/HABANERO & PERSIMMON
(citrus included: ugli fruit, ruby red grapefruit, moro blood oranges, & meyer lemons)

"I DREAMED ABOUT KILLING YOU AGAIN LAST NIGHT..."

i think wilco can make a claim to the title of best band in america & after seeing them in oakland last night i'd probably agree. still, the band exists as a musical extension of jeff tweedy &, it seems to me, his peculiar point of view keeps the band from an unimpeded ascension to those lofty heights. that may be, however, exactly what makes them great.

this is the unusual set list from last night's concert. they do essentially a new show every night but this one was unusual in that they played a lot from their first two albums(which they hadn't been doing)& the encore was complex & surprisingly long.
Poor Places
Art Of Almost
I Might
Muzzle of Bees
Via Chicago
Spiders (Kidsmoke)
(Acoustic)
One Wing
How To Fight Loneliness
Born Alone
California Stars
Impossible Germany
Whole Love
Pot Kettle Black
Hate It Here
Theologians
Can't Stand It
Heavy Metal Drummer
Dawned On Me
Hummingbird
Encore:
A Shot in the Arm
Wilco (The Song)
Passenger Side
Kingpin
Monday
Outta Mind (Outta Sight)
Casino Queen
Hoodoo Voodoo

HAPPY B'DAY TO ME

VIII.
Like a dull scholar, I behold, in love,
An ancient aspect touching a new mind.
It comes, it blooms, it bears its fruit and dies.
This trivial trope reveals a way of truth.
Our bloom is gone. We are the fruit thereof.
Two golden gourds distended on our vines,
Into the autumn weather, splashed with frost,
Distorted by hale fatness, turned grotesque.
We hang like warty squashes, streaked and rayed,
The laughing sky will see the two of us
Washed into rinds by rotting winter winds.

FROM "LE MONOCLE DE MON ONCLE" BY WALLACE STEVENS
that's a pic of my swollen hand that resulted from a vicious gout attack in my wrist last week. i spent 14 harrowing hours in the e.r. but they did load me up on morphine. i was told that an initial gout attack hitting the wrist is rare. the doctor seemed impressed. it usually manifests in the big toe.
as bobo told my mother when he called her to tell about a friend's death: "it's all hospitals & funerals from here on out." stevens says the same thing but w/an eloquence that usually escaped bobo, which is not to say that bobo wasn't succinct.

WEEKEND PASTRIES

"FOR THE LISTENER, WHO LISTENS IN THE SNOW..."

Winter
H. L. Hix
from "The God of Window Screens and Honeysuckle"

Stubble rows, four matte, four shiny in morning sun,/
show the combine’s direction. What can be preserved/
must be preserved as some self other than its own./
Bent cattails mimic stubble in the frozen pond./
Suet nearly gone, chickadees cling upside down/
to the feeder. Above it, a hedgeapple wedged/
between branches since fall. Past that, changing direction/
at once, fast as mackerel, a thousand blackbirds./
Skaters on a pond, we fall into what we know,/
drown in disorienting light before we freeze./
In angled afternoon sun, the fence’s shadow/
caresses the snow’s contours like tight-fitting clothes./
Even when grass greens to re-enact spring, the snow/
will linger, longest in the shadows of houses.