It started out with Bob Dylan, I think, the grand concept of the sensitive and confessional singer/songwriter. And he was very good at it, as were Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, Randy Newman, Phil Ochs, even Carole King. Some of these folks were VERY good singers and others made do with the voices they had. But it […]
The High Art of Vocal Interpretation Read More »
It is not singular that, as the daughter of two persons of distinguished literary celebrity, I should very early in life have thought of writing. As a child I scribbled; and my favourite pastime, during the hours given me for recreation, was to “write stories.” Still I had a dearer pleasure than this, which was
Mary Shelley: “my dreams were all my own” Read More »
If you stare at a doorway long enough Someone might appear Who is not just passing through In the shuffle of it all But who means to be there Or who was sent And has a reason to stare Back at you Or beyond you Or straight through you. Filling void with vacancy This stranger
The further I got into life, the worse my life became and the more I needed to write about it. The more I expressed my feelings through written words, the less I wanted to give into urges of self-pity. Writing didn’t destroy all the bad thoughts that tormented me, but it allowed me to think
Wood piles beneath the shallow permanent stone firm feet upon the yielding bog let water in – the wood’s grain will prevail right through its lines; let water out – white softness will grow up to draw things down The foundations could be called organic, so people longed to analyse to
Growth Before Buildings Read More »
Even as a mother protects with her life Her child, her only child, So with a boundless heart Should one cherish all living beings; Radiating kindness over the entire world: Spreading upwards to the skies, And downwards to the depths;
The Buddha on Loving Kindness Read More »