Wednesday, December 08, 2004

It's funny how the brain and heart are so complex that it's possible to be sad about certain parts of your life but still be happy. Or vice-versa.



Christmastime is always a lesson in that for me.



It took me a long time to figure out that being sad doesn't mean you're unhappy. A pang in the heart does not diminish joy; it makes it glint in the light. In a world hung up on illusions of absolutes, the challenge is to accept happiness in all its cracked complexity, and say, Yes.



I've been spending a lot of time nesting and listening to a Pottery Barn holiday compilation with Dean Martin and Lena Horne, framing pictures of me and my loved ones, making shelves and strings of lights and stuff, and it makes me feel genuinely happy. I guess that's because I have a lot of love in my life. That's what you really need. Losing my show has been difficult, but it's OK, because of the love.



I wanted to thank Tony for linking to me and talking last night about rock for two hours, so here's a poem for him. My songwritng teacher, Peter Case, used to provoke me a bit with all his talk about Dylan and Robert Johnson, saying the Beatles' pure stylishness ruined meaningful music. I said nonsense. And then, because he's rad, he spent a class talking about how the Beatles' style, and glam rock, are liberating sheerly through their style. And he gave us this poem, by Tony's favorite poet, Charles Bukowski.



style



style is the answer to everything--

a fresh way to approach a dull or a

dangerous thing.

to do a dull thing with style

is preferable to doing a dangerous thing

without it.



Joan of Arc had style

John the baptist

Christ

Socrates

Caesar

Garcia Lorca



style is the difference,

a way of doing,

a way of being done.



6 heron standing quietly in a pool of water

or you walking out of the bathroom naked

without seeing

me.







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