Unwound

Something in me, something knotted tight and anxious, unwound this weekend. Just like that.  What felt like a twisted tight spring now feels free and easy like ribbons.  I don't know what it was but it's gone. Good riddance, I say.

Was it being with my people? Was it spending leisurely, languishing, laughing hours with my mom, dad, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins?

Was it thinking about my particular path and sharing it publicly in a setting where all the different, diverse paths were honored + not dichotomized?

Was it listening to the symphony play Mahler's 5th Symphony (my cousin playing the bass in the orchestra)? Or sitting next to my 90-year-old grandfather while he tenderly wiped his eyes?

Was it reading East of Eden? I finished it last night on the plane and sat cradling it to my chest for many minutes, thinking over its mastery (oh, the envy) and Steinbeck's celebration of "that glittering instrument, the human soul."

Was it sitting across from friends, both newly made and long held, sharing stories and souls?

Was it hours of thinking time staring out the airplane window with the perspective you only get from 30,000 miles in the air (and no, no one asked to sit on my lap)?

Yes, yes, and yes.  Whatever it was, I'm grateful.

And it was coming home, too, where part of my heart was waiting for me:

Video found via GwenBell

Sappy but true

Update on Thursday, March 4, 2010 by Anne

Sorry for the technical difficulties today!  I know there was a weird login screen that popped up for a while there but it's fixed now.  Or so I hope.  It's not you, it's me and my technological ineptness. (Thanks again, Anna, for letting me know!)

p.s. I meant 30,000 feet not miles.  I'm not an astronaut, in case you were wondering.

You can't be serious

'My Funny Family' from hailey bartholomew on Vimeo.

Feel like a virtual field trip?  A trip to one of my favorite new-to-me sites is a treat. This artistic Australian family of four--photographers, designers, film-makers, gigglers--knows how to have F-U-N. The Bartholomews make me want to invite more fun + zaniness + joy into my life.  See them at You Can't Be Serious here. And their Christmas card photo has inspired me...look for a little zaniness from the W clan come December.

p.s. We're getting back on our feet around here! More soon...

Thankful for: tears (nothing like a good cry) ~ tealight candles ~ washer+dryer

Magnificent

weekend.
Thanks for coming, friends.

Jen, me, Deirdre, Vicki (behind the camera) at Burdick's Chocolate in HarvardSquare (fantastic truffles and decadent hot chocolate). Such a beautiful day. Or days. I love showing people around Boston and this weekend the city put on her best weather and represented well (not a city of blinding lights, but almost). Good food, a bit of sightseeing, great chats. It was a great chance to get together and do what friends do: show up, support + love, laugh, scheme, and be serious and indignant and silly at all the right moments. I feel refilled + replenished and hope they do too.

Anyway...

Uno, dos, tres, catorce...

Before the show. Yes, we came early...

but it was worth it.

I wasn't really prepared for how emotional an experience it would be. U2 has provided the soundtrack for a lot of my life. So many images came flooding back to me: moments of longing, joy, heartbreak, memories both manic and melancholy. There were some great melodies woven into the setlist. They combined One + Amazing Grace, added Blackbird to Beautiful Day, and a sing-along Stand by Me that got me all teary. It was such a great night*. Can't wait until next time, whenever that is. (The other three are heading to Vegas in October to see them again, the luckies.)

Now to get back to real life...

p.s. If you go (or are planning on it) get general admission tickets on the floor. I loved our seats--and they were on the 30th row so pretty good!--but if I did it again I would sacrifice sitting for being up close at the band's feet.

Just Dance

Love this, love Kings of Convenience.

The guy is a combination of Napoleon Dynamite and a guy in college we roommates fondly called Dancin' Dave.

I proclaim August 12th as International Dance Crazy in the Kitchen Day

(also an item on my Dog Days of Summer list).

Care to join in?

{I'll make you laugh by acting like the guy who sings...

You'll make me smile by really getting into the swing...}

video via Deirdre from Uppercase Journal

* * *

The Maine adventure continues. Yesterday I got up at 5, drove 5.5 hours to Boston, taught for 2 hours, drove 5.5 hours back. It was a beautiful drive and I did lots of thinking and singing to myself (even a little in-car dancing). But I missed my Maine people, who hiked, shopped, played badminton and croquet. Today it's back to vacation mode for me, too.

Pubs & Pogues

A couple of years ago (back when G worked for a British company and I rode his coattails as often as I could when he went there for meetings) we wandered into a pub on a little side street in London.  As a non-British non-drinker, I was always fascinated by the whole pub experience (do I choose where I sit?  do I walk over to the bar and shout my soda order? is someone going to yell at me? and what about the crowd of people lingering outside?  do I just walk up and make conversation? are they already in groups of friends?)  

As you can tell, I overthink things.

This time it was irresistible.  It was the night of the European Football Playoffs  and there was a jolly chaos inside that we couldn't ignore.  So we went in, joined in the happy cheering and jeering, suddenly die-hard English football fans by virtue of pub-adoption. I grinned through the whole jubilant exuberant night and left feeling like I had jumped, Mary-Poppins-and-Burt-style, into another world.  Minus the penguin waiters.

* * *

Last Friday G and I had tickets to the Pogues concert at The House of Blues.  Let's see...Irish folk/punk band in Boston?  In a concert hall with five bars along the interior perimeter?  Think that'll be lively?

I'm pretty sure we were the only sober ones there.

I'm pretty sure lead singer Shane MacGowan was the least sober one there.

I'm pretty sure 85% of the attendees were singing along with the band at the top of their lungs.

It brought back memories of that merry pub experience (multiplied by 10). There aren't any seats at the House of Blues concert venue, which makes for a lot of dancing and interactions. Lots of grown tough burly Irish American men dancing jigs, complete with locking elbows and spinning.  Pretty much like this:

For instance: At one point I was walking on the way back from the loo and a guy put his finger on top of my head. I looked at him quizzically and he and his girlfriend said "spin! spin!" so I did and they all cheered.  (Apparently I was the first who did. I kind of felt like "Norm!" at Cheers).  It was amazing fun.   We laughed a lot--at the dancers, at the manic mood of the whole audience, at the enthusiasm.

And at the same time, a bit of sadness on the underside of the evening.  Looking at addiction's ravages in Shane MacGowan (he looks decades older than his age) you wonder why the extreme lows and destructiveness have to so frequently accompany the joyousness.

{In fact, the Boston Globe called the show "a blended blur of life's emotional extremes: joy, laughter, tears, and sorrow. Beating at the music's clamoring heart were the Pogues, who ultimately left us wondering whether there ever was a band so perfectly, equally suited to playing either a wedding or a wake." } 

Other Pogue favorites:  Fairy Tale of New York, Love You Till The End

photo via MaryElle St. Clare's Flickr page