Musicians/Diplomats

http://www.npr.org/blogs/therecord/2013/02/22/172710714/musics-new-real-ambassadors

"In fact, the purpose of this trip and getting a chance to meet people is to tell them that, 'Hey, this is nothing like what you're hearing in the news. It's nothing like that.' "
-Ali Noor

It's such a simple concept, isn't it? Musicians traveling abroad, playing their music...changing people's minds about other people, in other places. Not politicians, not weaponry, not belligerence nor fear. Just music.

Monday Mainstay: Shel Silverstein

 I have always loved this Shel Silverstein poem. Here you go:

Listen to the Mustn'ts

Shel Silverstein

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
      Listen to the DON'TS
      Listen to the SHOULDN'TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT'S
      Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me-
      Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.

 

 

To believing that anything can be.

 

 

 

Hold On - Alabama Shakes

For the music video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Le-3MIBxQTw

"Hold On"

Bless my heart, bless my soul.
Didn't think I'd make it to 22 years old.
There must be someone up above sayin',
"Come on, Brittany, you got to come on up.
You got to hold on...
Hey, you got to hold on..."

So, bless my heart and bless yours too.
I don't know where I'm gonna go
Don't know what I'm gonna do.
There must be somebody up above sayin',
"Come on, Brittany, you got to come on now!
You got to hold on...
Hey, you got to hold on..."

"Yeah! You got to wait!
Yeah! You got to wait!"
But I don't wanna wait!
No, I don't wanna wait...

So, bless my heart and bless my mind.
I got so much to do, I ain't got much time
So, must be someone up above saying,
"Come on, girl! Yeah, you got to get back up!
You got to hold on...
Yeah, you got to hold on..."

"Yeah! You got to wait!"
I don't wanna wait!
But I don't wanna wait!
No, I don't wanna wait!

You got to hold on...
You got to hold on...
You got to hold on...
You got to hold on...

This is one of those songs I listen to and just feel like somebody else completely understands how I'm feeling right now. To holding on.

Poems in Prison

http://www.npr.org/2013/02/12/170657765/in-a-north-vietnamese-prison-sharing-poems-with-taps-on-the-walls

I haven't read this book, but the title of the article intrigued me. John Borling, this Air Force fighter pilot, while imprisoned for six years and eight months in Vietnam, "composed poetry -  in his head, without benefit of pencil or paper." He had a tap code to communicate with other prisoners, and said, " a fragment of poetry — some remembered lines, however abbreviated — would be useful."

See, poetry can save lives! Okay, okay, maybe that's a little extreme. But hey, it helped make life more bearable in such a trying time. There's always beauty somewhere, right? We just have to find it, or create it.

To poetry.

Just Give It Time (Jon McLaughlin Lyrics)

Just Give It Time
Jon McLaughlin
(from: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/jonmclaughlin/justgiveittime.html)

Still waters, heavy hearts
Plans we make all fall apart
Disillusioned and lost in the gray
How can we fix the heart when it breaks?
Don't know how much more you can take

[Chorus:]
Just give it time
It's gonna get better
Now is not forever at all
Just give it time
Everything changes
Tomorrow comes today will be gone
Everything's gonna be fine
Just give it time, give it time

Quiet landslide when nobody knows
Regretted decisions that nobody chose
Under water and sinking fast
No way out, no way to get back
What might have been is lost in the past

[Chorus]

When the world you're in is still again
And it all fades out
You've reached the end, begin again now

[Chorus]

[2x]
Everything's gonna be alright
Everything's gonna be alright
Just give it time 

 

 

So who hasn't heard someone say that things are going to get better? Somehow Jon McLaughlin makes it believable when it doesn't always feel like it.

To giving it time.

So Much Happiness by Naomi Shihab Nye

 http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/so-much-happiness/

So Much Happiness

Naomi Shihab Nye

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.
But happiness floats.
It doesn't need you to hold it down.
It doesn't need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records…..
Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.


I haven't posted a poem in a while, so here's one I read a while ago. I think Nye does a wonderful job of writing about how happiness feels, as much as you can explain it, anyway: how it "floats," then "lands on the roof of the next house," and "flows out of you into everything you touch." Isn't that so absolutely true?

Because it's an extra-special day (why not?), here's another quote:
"Poetry calls us to pause. There is so much we overlook, while the abundance around us continues to shimmer, on its own.”
-Naomi Shihab Nye
(found here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/naomi-shihab-nye)

To happiness flowing out of us into the world around us, and seeing the shimmering.

Thoughts on The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter (Carson McCullers)

This is the book description, taken straight off of Amazon:

With the publication of her first novel, THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER, Carson McCullers, all of twenty-three, became a literary sensation. With its profound sense of moral isolation and its compassionate glimpses into its characters' inner lives, the novel is considered McCullers' finest work, an enduring masterpiece first published by Houghton Mifflin in 1940. At its center is the deaf-mute John Singer, who becomes the confidant for various types of misfits in a Georgia mill town during the 1930s. Each one yearns for escape from small town life. When Singer's mute companion goes insane, Singer moves into the Kelly house, where Mick Kelly, the book's heroine (and loosely based on McCullers), finds solace in her music. Wonderfully attuned to the spiritual isolation that underlies the human condition, and with a deft sense for racial tensions in the South, McCullers spins a haunting, unforgettable story that gives voice to the rejected, the forgotten, and the mistreated -- and, through Mick Kelly, gives voice to the quiet, intensely personal search for beauty.
Richard Wright praised Carson McCullers for her ability "to rise above the pressures of her environment and embrace white and black humanity in one sweep of apprehension and tenderness." She writes "with a sweep and certainty that are overwhelming," said the NEW YORK TIMES. McCullers became an overnight literary sensation, but her novel has endured, just as timely and powerful today as when it was first published. THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER is Carson McCullers at her most compassionate, endearing best.

I think it's beautifully written, and McCullers covers such a wide range of topics masterfully - family dynamics, friendship, loneliness, isolation, politics, racism, etc. When I was reading, I felt like I was really there. I could almost see Mick's face when she was listening to the radio, feel how intensely lonely Singer was without Antonapoulos, sense how much Benedict worked for the "strong true purpose" and oh, man, there are a few shockers in this book that definitely make you read on!

Perhaps what stood out to me the most is the sense of isolation in this small town. John Singer is a a mute who Mick, Jake and Benedict all feel understand them in a way that no one else can. He listens to them talk at length and they put him on a pedestal, see him as incredibly wise man of great understanding. 

Isn't there something sad about the fact that they believe Singer understands them in a way that no one else does when Singer is unable to talk back? Granted, he is able to respond - he can write, and he does at several points - but mostly, he just listens.

It's sad and yet there's something hopeful (maybe even redemptive) about it, I think. I've been going back and forth in my head about whether this is a reason for optimism or pessimism, that the characters feel less isolated when they talk to Singer when it could be seen as them isolating themselves even further - they're confiding to someone who can't - or rather, doesn't - fully participate as an equal in the conversation. Furthermore, while the three people feel so understood by Singer...they never really ask him about himself. They may worship him, but they only see him as the listener. Though they may be curious about his life, they don't ask about his innermost feelings and such. They are interested in Singer mainly because he plays the role of good listener.

Who listens to Singer? Who understands Singer? It could be argued that Antonapoulos does, but it's unclear exactly how much understanding Antonapoulos possesses. Perhaps the tragedy of the book is that no one completely escapes their isolation, no one really understands anybody else. Singer, the figure of great understanding, is so isolated and lonely, even with the three people who come to see him and talk to him. But I suppose it could be seen optimistically - that even those who lack the ability to speak  to speak have the ability to connect with others, relieving isolation.

Has anyone else read this book?

This is the first one I've read by McCullers, and I plan on reading more of her work.