Birthdays

As my birthday is now gone, I can say it was. I’m not fond of saying that it is. I’ve not been interested in birthdays since the milestone days: 18, 21, and 30. After that it has seemed mostly inconsequential, especially to celebrate. Not avoidance, more like a no matter. A shrug of the shoulders.

But today I did see this poem posted, a lovely toast to the days as we mark them gone.

Poem and photo posted by Mauri Fox & Kathy Gallo

I Am Not Old
I am not old…she said
I am rare.
I am the standing ovation
At the end of the play.
I am the retrospective
Of my life as art
I am the hours
Connected like dots
Into good sense
I am the fullness
Of existing.
You think I am waiting to die…
But I am waiting to be found
I am a treasure.
I am a map.
And these wrinkles are
Imprints of my journey
Ask me anything.
~ Samantha Reynolds

And this coat has special significance for me as it’s a coat that reoccurs in my life. It is the coat that was first found on Billy the priest as we were kid-adults together in Michigan. He was quite heavyset then, and the coat looked fabulous on him. (He was not a priest at the time.) One of the first novels I wrote, “Last House” has a character in it who has such a coat. He is a character of some merit and all of the people who read the MS loved him. He is also heavyset and a very proud and kind man. When I think of the coat I can feel it, so warm and wonderful, and furry.

Days of Birth

TODAY is Hannah Arendt’s Birthday … tomorrow it’s Nietzsche and Foucault … seems to me that makes this weekend one for celebrating. I don’t think we have to agree with one or the other, or any philosopher, in order to appreciate what they have brought to civilization and society. philMat

All photos/posters were posted by Philosophy Matters

The first piece below is Fritz (Nietzsche) and the second is Mike (Foucault)

nietzsche

 

PhilMatsNietzscheFoucault

Happy Birthday!

To Oscar Peterson—what a person and musician! Peterson

is credited with giving birth to modern Jazz.

He, along with Bird Parker and many other Jazz Greats, often played for Jazz at the Philharmonic, JATP. Their records did a lot to publicize and further instill Jazz as an up and coming musical form. That is, beyond those places and states where it seems the music of jazz was a way of life, born before records themselves. That was mainly in the south, and then New York, Detroit, and Chicago.

Luckily, I managed to hang on to the JATP among my collection, and I still have them. Of course occasions such as this prompt me to play some of that music! And jazz, it seems for many of us, must be played loudly.

Today’s Birthday

Again late, my friends. Apparently I am only able to acknowledge birthdays a day past. Nonetheless, here it is.

Gary Snyder…sometimes called the poet of the earth. Some of his poems transcend, may cause an altered state. A caution might precede the poetry: warning, may cause thinking, even loving.

Beat hero, steward of the earth, Zen Buddhist—in his mid-eighties, poet Gary Snyder looks back on an honorable life at the leading edge.

Gary Snyder. Photo by Festival of Faiths.

Gary Snyder. Photo by Festival of Faiths. In Lion’s Roar Buddhist Magazine

I want to share a GS poem with you. Here’s one.

My home was at Cold Mountain from the start,
Rambling among the hills, far from trouble.

Gone, and a million things leave no trace
Loosed, and it flows through the galaxies
A fountain of light, into the very mind—
Not a thing, and yet it appears before me;
Now I know the pearl of the Buddha-nature
Know its use: a boundless perfect sphere.