Composed - Rosanne Cash

I am a person grounded in reality. By that I mean I don't enjoy fantasy as much as reality (not as in reality shows however!) Of course, I love "The Wizard of Oz," but not "Lord of the Rings" so much. I don't read fantasy or science fiction, but I do love a good memoir or autobiography. If there is an article about a famous person I skip to the parts about their real life, not their accomplishments. I'm just interested in reading about how people live their lives.

I have read some horribly boring biographies and autobiographies filled with disconnected anecdotes and name-dropping. Some have left out any depth of feeling for their experiences which leaves you cold. Others are beautifully written - usually entirely written by the person, not with the help of another writer.

My two favorites so far have been Julie Andrews' "Home" and Jane Fonda's "My Life So Far." But this week I read another favorite - "Composed" by Rosanne Cash. I knew nothing about her, was not a fan, never heard her sing - but I'd heard OF her. I knew she was Johnny Cash's daughter.

I heard her being interviewed on NPR a couple months ago and found her eloquent and intelligent. She made me want to read her writing and I was not disappointed. She had wanted to be a writer early in life and she definitely is a writer - an excellent one. The memoir flowed with such beauty and grace, even if she was describing mistakes or painful emotions it was never pitiful or difficult to read. The beginning of the book has little about her famous father as she tells of her youthful urgency to forge her own life. Only later, when she writes of her parents does all of it fit together. What she writes about her father is truthful and touching, and she even includes the beautiful eulogies she composed for him, her mother and stepmother June Carter. But the memoir is most definitely hers.

Now I am listening to her songs and her passionate lyrics. We are only 6 months apart in age and the years of her marriages and children were happening at much the same time as mine, but beyond that it is just a beautifully written memoir I would recommend to any reality-loving, memoir-loving readers.

Here's a excerpt - I couldn't agree more:
We all need art and music like we need blood and oxygen. The more exploitative, numbing and assaulting popular culture becomes, the more we need the truth of a beautifully phrased song, dredged from a real person's depth of experience, delivered in an honest voice;the more we need the simplicity of paint on canvas, or the arc of a lonely body in the air, or the photographers's unflinching eye. Art, in the larger sense, is the lifeline to which I cling in a confusing, unfair, sometimes dehumanizing world.

Go for it guys!

Julie Andrews

Yesterday on NPR I heard that it was Julie Andrews' 75th birthday and I smiled. Julie was my childhood idol. I loved her in Mary Poppins and then - THEN! - on my 10th birthday I saw "The Sound of Music" and it has been my favorite movie ever since (and that's a long time). Somewhere in the bottom of an old trunk probably lies a large envelope full of every photograph of her from every movie magazine in the 60's that I could find. I still think Julie is beautiful, immensely talented and the epitome of eloquence and grace. I wanted to BE her - and I still do :)
Her 2008 memoir called "Home" is much more than the usual celebrity list of anecdotes. It is a fascinating and touching memoir of her life right up until her big break in Mary Poppins. I do hope she writes another one and tells us the rest of the story as only she can.

In 2003 I had the amazing opportunity to go to Salzburg Austria on a choir tour.(That's me in Salzburg in the photo.) I had the excitement of a child on Christmas Eve anticipating the chance to walk where Julie walked during the filming of "The Sound of Music". I knew the places and the songs by heart. It was just as glorious as I imagined and of course, being in Europe, it still looked exactly the same as it did in the 1965 movie. I climbed the same steps that they sang "Do-Re'Mi" on and stood by the fountain where she sang "I Have Confidence". (There's a video somewhere of me at the front of the tour bus leading a rendition of "Do-Re-Me" too.)

I don't really believe in celebrity worship, but Julie... well, that's different.

Photoshop of Horrors

If at my age, I am still secretly comparing myself to images on television and in magazines I can only imagine what it's like for teenaged girls growing up in the age of Photoshop. Recently,Cleveland Plain Dealer columnist Connie Schultz reported on a popular website for 18-34 year olds called Jezebel.com. Whenever the website discovers unretouched photos of celebrities they post the before and after Photoshopped photos. One of their first ones was a photo of singer Faith Hill on the cover of Redbook in July 2007. Connie Schultz wrote "The difference between the two images was not just striking, but stomach-turning. Editors had digitally poofed up her hair, deflated her cheeks, shaved inches off her left arm and removed her right arm altogether. They erased fine lines from her face, the protruding clavicle from her chest and the tiny bit of back flesh blooming over the top of her sundress. Her previously small waist was whittled to the size of a 10 year-olds."

Why? What's wrong with being a naturally pretty woman? Why do magazines that are supposedly for women make us all look at images that are literally impossible to live up to?

For awhile I subscribed to a magazine called "More" because it was promoted as a magazine for women over 40. Great, I thought. But after awhile I became really annoyed with a section called "This is what 40 looks like, or 50 or 60..." But of course the women looked nowhere near those ages. I thought here we are again - being told to live up to perfection.

My favorite chuckle of every month is seeing how Oprah miraculously loses 30 or 40 pounds for her magazine cover and somehow gains it all back for the taping of her show. Who are they kidding???

Schultz quoted Jezebel editor Jessica Coen: Remember that every day a young woman somewhere sees one of these overly polished pictures for the first time... and has no idea that they're not real...She may well have no idea that most waists don't really bend without a roll of flesh, that a 40-year old woman actually does have some wrinkles, that no mascara will make one's lashes long enought to tickle her eyebrows. What the girl does know is that the pictures show What is Beautiful. She thinks they are reality. And maybe she doesn't have someone in her life to point out that this is complete and utter bullshit.

Above you can see an unretouched photo of Madonna looking like, well, kinda like a 52-year old woman who is in good shape. The Brittany Spears photo is a small example of retouching. You can click to enlarge.

Across the Universe - Lennon and McCartney

Words are flowing out like
endless rain into a paper cup,
they slither while they pass,
they slip away across the universe.
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
are drifting through my opened mind
possessing and caressing me, Jai Guru deva om
nothing's gonna change my world.

Images of broken light which dance before me like million eyes
they call me on and on across the universe.
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box,
they tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe.

Sounds of laughter, shades of earth are ringing through my opened ears
inciting and inviting me, limitless undying love which shines around me
like a millions suns and calls me on and on across the universe.
Jai guru deva om, nothing's gonna change my world.

Sometimes a Beatles song comes on my ipod (on shuffle) and I have to appreciate them all over again. Jai Guru deva translates to "I give thanks to the heavenly teacher."
I painted the Abby Road scene on my basement wall.You can click to enlarge, but it looks better small :) Unless you come to my house to see it in person!

Glitter in the Air

If you missed Pink's performance of "Glitter in the Air" at the Grammy's - the one where she's mostly naked, hanging in the air in a swath of material, singing upside down and dripping wet - well, you missed it.
It made me buy her CD and I decided I really like the lyrics of the song - something probably no one heard during that performance - even me, the emo music junkie, the lyric freak - since I was standing in front of the TV with my mouth gaping open.

Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?
Closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted.
Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face
and said, "I just don't care?"
It's only half past the point of no return,
the tip of the iceberg,
the sun before the burn,
the thunder before the lightning,
and the breath before the phrase.
Have you ever felt this way?
Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?
Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone?
Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?
Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?
Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight?
Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself
will it ever get better than tonight?

Coexist XXVII - America Divided

In my lowly opinion there is something wrong when someone becomes enraged because you do not agree with them - especially in regards to politics. Like bombing an abortion clinic and killing the doctors because you believe life is so sacred. Doesn't make sense. The Cleveland Plain Dealer recently ran an excellent coexist article by John Campanelli entitled "America's house is divided and we can't stand one another." It addressed the outbursts of rage that seem rampant across the country and on television. It mourns the loss of civility and tolerance for differing opinions. This bugs me too. Here are some excerpts:

Respect for an opponent's positions? Gentlemanly debate? Reflection? Compromise? Those values have been bulldozed by belligerance, name-calling, and most of all, rage.
Joe wilson shouting, "You lie!" at the president and Rep. Alan Grayson calling Republicans "knuckle-dragging Neanderthals."

A man at a Maryland hall meeting in August had a sign that said "Death to Michele and her two stupid kids." I wince just typing that.

Campanelli reports that there has been a return of over 50 militia groups in the past 18 months.

Fox's Glenn Beck has said he hates the families of 9/11 victims and that Obama is a racist with a "deep -seated hatred for white people" or MSNBC's Keith Olbermann who called President Bush a "fascist" "war criminal" and "idiot in chief."
"Beck makes $25 million a year- it really pays to use a lot of venom," says Richard
Perloff, professor and director of CSU's school of communication.

I don't know about you, but I taught my children, and I try to teach my students, RESPECT. Remember the old Aretha Franklin song?

"When moderate mainstream voters are subjected to the name-calling and never-back-down fury, something happens," says Julie Exline, a psychology professor at CWRU. "It reinforces that these sides are completely incompatible and that all people basically have to chose a side. . . People feel they have to chose because there seems to be no middle ground. All of this tends to foster a belief in us vs. them. It gets you to think about the members of the other group as being your enemy - a personal enemy of yours.

The article ends - Enrich yourself to other viewpoints, find common ground and catch yourself when you make generalizations about groups of people

That's all for now. I have more to come. What do you think?

Poetry on the Dance Floor

His songs have been on shuffle
in my head since the end of June,
haunting, pulling, I see
visual bodily poetry
images not to be seen again.

Painting by Diane

The Dance

Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye, but the dance lives on. On many an occasion when I am dancing I have felt touched by something sacred. In those moments I felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists.

I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing... Then is is the eternal dance of creation. The creator and creation merge into one wholeness of joy. I keep on dancing... and dancing... and dancing until there is only ...the dance.

By Michael Jackson

Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History

This is taken from "The Writer's Almanac" on July 11, 2009.

It's the birthday of the woman who first said "Well-behaved women seldom make history"; historian and writer Laurel Thatcher Ulrich born in Sugar City Idaho (1938). She wrote several books about the lives of women in colonial New England, including A Midwives Tale (1990), which won the Pulitzer Prize for history. And back when she was a graduate student, she wrote an obscure academic article about Puritan funeral services and she included the quote "well-behaved women seldom make history." She was saying that nobdy paid much attention to the group of ordinary law-abiding Puritan women she was writing about, because everyone was so focused on the women accused of witchcraft in Salem. But her quote got taken out of context and used as a rallying cry for women to break away from their expected roles and misbehave. It got reprinted on T-shirts, bumper stickers, mugs and tote bags. And finally she decided that if she was getting so much press in the mainstream culture, she might as well use it, and she wrote a book with the same title, published in 2007. The cover features a woman wearing a shirt with the authors' own famous quote.

Michael Jackson - Part 2

I wrote the following post a few days ago. Now I have just finished watching the memorial service for Michael Jackson. I cannot describe what a beautiful, respectful, appropriate and spiritually uplifting event it was to watch. It went far beyond the music to his humanitarian efforts and unpublicized encounters that touched people personally. It made me want to be a better person and what better legacy can a person leave than that? At the end, a unscripted and heartbreaking moment occured when his daughter Paris went to the mic,and through her tears said ," I just want to say, ever since I was born, Daddy has been the best father you can imagine. I just wanted to say I love him very much." Some of you reading this may think it's silly to honor an entertainer this way. I've wondered the same thing. I wrote the following in an effort to explain it to myself.

I've spent the past week and a half trying to understand why I am so affected by the death of Michael Jackson. I have never felt so sad at the passing of someone I never met. Clearly, I am not alone, but it has taken me by surprise. Watching old videos, hearing the songs again, being mesmerized by the dancing - I pondered this phenomenon. The top ten selling albums last week were all Michael's. His radio play has been said to have increased 1735% countrywide. There were 2.6 million downloads of his songs in the first three days after his passing. In explaining this, a spokesman from Rolling Stone eloquently said "His music has been liberated from the eccentricities." That's it. We can go back and love the songs and be amazed at the showmanship and innovation knowing that he will no longer do anything curious or weird to distract us from his real talents.

How can one person have such an influence and impact on the world by just being an entertainer? He is, at this point, arguably the most famous celebrity in history - bigger than Elvis or Marilyn, who also both burned out too soon. For me, I realized he has been around most of my life. We are close in age and I was a preteen fan when he was a preteen singing "ABC".

But what does the word influence mean? When you can actually remember the night in 1983 when you saw the moonwalk for the first time (and there is not a lot I can remember from 1983!). When you can picture your little children dancing around the living room to "Beat It" (and they remember it too). When certain songs you hear now bring back memories. When you are still mesmerized by the seemingly un-human dance moves in a video you've seen dozens of times. When you now realize how many musical artists copy his moves from decades ago - I guess that influence. He was, in fact, a part of our lives.

So that's what I have figured out so far. It's a cultural phenomenon that I'm trying to understand. I'd be glad to hear your take on it. Meanwhile, Rest in Peace, Michael Jackson - the peace we can't even come close to here on Earth - you did what you were born to do. You used all the talents God gave you - and that 's the best thing we can do in our short lives.

Michael Jackson

Being a blogger, I have to say something about Michael Jackson today. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for him - for the little boy looking for his lost childhood and the man looking for love that wasn't predicated on his bizarre fame and fortune. My own opinion is that his parents did not protect him, but used him as a moneymaker when he was a child. Michael Jackson, in fact, was a child prodigy in his musical talent and style. He was born to perform, but I do not believe that human beings are born to be idolized and worshipped. It is not normal and it is not something that the human spirit knows how to handle. We've seen it time and time again. No human is God - and yet how many child celebrities have gone on to lead weird and dysfunctional lives and early deaths.

Michael Jackson was close to my age and I remember watching the little boy on TV singing his heart out with joy and style. I thought he was adorable. I actually remember the Mowtown 25th anniversary show in the early 80's when he danced the moonwalk and blew the crowd away. I always admire originality. Lots of us thought he was odd, but I don't think you could say he was stupid. He knew exactly how to make himself a star - and he did. But being a star of that magnitude stresses the body and spirit to the breaking point - and that is probably why he is dead at age 50. I think Elvis was 42.

It's a sad story of American pop culture and one full of pathos for me. I pray that he rests in real peace and won't know about all the future sightings and rumors of him not being dead that will surely crop up in the near future.