Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Uncle Ben was right

In every relationship, one person has more power than the other.  Good, bad, right, wrong, it's true.  While I'm not sure if it's good or right, I don't really know that it's bad or wrong; the main thing is that both individuals know where the power lies, and that the one with the most of it is especially careful.

Monday, April 1, 2013

January, February, March and April



fool (fl)


n.


1. One who is deficient in judgment, sense, or understanding.


2. One who acts unwisely on a given occasion: I was a fool to have quit my job.


3. One who has been tricked or made to appear ridiculous; a dupe: They made a fool of me by pretending I had won.


4. Informal A person with a talent or enthusiasm for a certain activity: a dancing fool; a fool for skiing.


5. A member of a royal or noble household who provided entertainment, as with jokes or antics; a jester.


6. One who subverts convention or orthodoxy or varies from social conformity in order to reveal spiritual or moral truth: a holy fool.


7. A dessert made of stewed or puréed fruit mixed with cream or custard and served cold.


8. Archaic A mentally deficient person; an idiot.

Friday, February 15, 2013

The Scared is scared

"The conflictive pressures and confrontational tensions that lie beneath a sung script...remain uninvestigated and, worse, disappear behind an infantile indication of the lyric.  What we hear and witness, too often, are charaded performances of what is being sung.  In general, this may be considered the root cause of the physical self-consciousness that afflicts cross-over actors, dancers, and, sadly, concert singers when they first begin a life in song.  My thesis, then, is this:  Concern yourself only with the words and the music of what you sing and you have joined the audience by becoming the reactor to, rather than the creator of the song.  Simply stated, the subject and the predicate have reversed themselves:  the song sings you."

David Craig, "On Performing Sondheim:  A Little Night Music Revisited," Stephen Sondheim:  A Casebook




The Scared is scared of the things you like...

"Life is process, not goal; the moment is all that can be enjoyed."  Your own thoughts may well be the closest you'll ever be to experiencing a moment within the actual moment.

Investigate the conflictive pressures and confrontational tensions that lie beneath.

Receive.  Cultivate curiosity.

You sing your song.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Libraries, Heroes, Goddesses & Temptresses, and Things Found Along the Way


Moyers: Then what does love have to do with morality?

Campbell: Violates it.

Moyers: Violates it?

Campbell: Yes.  Insofar as love expresses itself, it is not expressing itself in terms of the socially approved manners of life.  That’s why it is all so secret.  Love has nothing to do with social order.  It is a higher spiritual experience than that of socially organized marriage.

Moyers: When we say God is love, does that have anything to do with romantic love?  Does mythology ever link romantic love and God?

Campbell: That’s what it did do.  Love was a divine visitation, and that’s why it was superior to marriage.  That was the troubadour idea.  If God is love, well then, love is God.  Meister Eckhart said, “Love knows no pain.”  And that’s exactly what Tristan meant when he said, “I’m willing to accept the pains of hell for my love.”

Moyers: But you’ve been saying that love involves suffering.

Campbell: That is the other idea.  Tristan was experiencing love—Meister Eckhart was talking about it.  The pain of love is not the other kind of pain, it is the pain of life.  Where your pain is, there is your life, you might say.

Moyers: There’s that passage in Corinthians where Paul says, “Love beareth  all things, endureth all things.”

Campbell: That’s the same thing…

Moyers: So joy and pain are in love.

Campbell: Yes.  Love is the burning point of life, and since all life is sorrowful, so is love.  The stronger the love, the more the pain.

Moyers: But love bears all things.

Campbell: Love itself is a pain, you might say—the pain of being truly alive.