Saturday, February 19, 2011
As I was driving down the hill at 6:45 to meet with friends for our Saturday morning breakfast get together, I was startled to see the full moon. I can't remember the last time I saw such an impressive setting full moon. So often, most of the phases of the moon are behind a cloud cover here. There are no stopping places on that road down the hill, but there were few cars on the road, and I did stop and hurriedly tried to take a picture through the windshield, not noticing that the flash setting was turned on. Not what I had hoped for, but that's okay. Funny how all those full-moon-shaped images were created by the flash. If you click on the photo you can see the traffic lights and other city lights, even the Vining Street sign. Makes me think of paintings by Whistler, Monet, Van Gogh and Mondrian.
Surprisingly, there were still no cars behind me, and I was able to get this second image, without the flash.
Friday, February 18, 2011
This human being, each night nevertheless
summoning--with a breath blown at a flame,
or hand’s touch
on the lamp-switch--darkness,
impelled as if by a need to cup the palms
and drink from a river,
the words, ‘Thanks.
Thanks for this day, a day of my life.’
And drifts to sleep, downstream
on murmuring currents of doubt and praise,
the wall shadowy, that tomorrow
will cast its own familiar, clear-cut shadow
into the day's brilliance.
(from "Human Being," by Denise Levertov)
(Photo with boulder with long morning shadow taken this morning as the sun first appeared over the hill to the east of Boulevard Park on Bellingham Bay)
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
(from "The Jazz Singer," 1927)
Listen to Mumford and Sons and the Avett Brothers first, if you haven't heard this already, and then watch as Bob comes on at 5:09, miming with his arms the ghost of Al Jolson.
Curious, I found the following in this article about the film, "The Jazz Singer":
As he finishes the jazzed-up song 'Blue Skies,' his stern father enters, sees the pair, expresses deep upset, and shouts "Stop!" (not a title this time). (The film returns to its silent-type nature following the outburst.) Sara questions her husband's speechless reaction: "Papa, have you no word for your son?" The elder Cantor glares: "You dare to bring your jazz songs into my house! I taught you to sing the songs of Israel - to take my place in the synagogue!" Jack tries to get his father to understand his more contemporary viewpoint: "You're of the old world! If you were born here, you'd feel the same as I do - - tradition is all right, but this is another day! I'll live my life as I see fit!"
His traditionalist father can't believe his disrespectful son: "You talk that way to a Cantor - - it's sacrilege!" Sara attempts to soothe the two of them: "Don't forget, Papa, it's your birthday - - and Jakie's come home." Jack has remembered his father's birthday with a present: "And I didn't forget it was your birthday, Papa" - it's another prayer shawl. Jack wants his father to know about his great success: "I'm doing fine, Papa, and I'm going in a big Broadway show." His father is shocked to know that he deeply loves jazz music and performs profane music: "A singer in a theatre - you from five generations of Cantors!" Jack defends his music: "You taught me that music is the voice of God! It is as honorable to sing in the theatre as in the synagogue! My songs mean as much to my audience as yours to your congregation!"
Monday, February 14, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
If my father were still alive, he would be 97 years old today. My father was a senior in high school when this photo was taken.
Here is some of the music he would have heard between during the 1930s. In 1932, he was the same age that my nephew is this year. Amazing!
Happy Birthday Day, Dad!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
During that 40 minutes, I didn't see many people out walking. Two young women jogging on my way out and two young women with infants in strollers with plastic coverlets on my way back.