The countdown to my teacher training in Oslo is on! Only two more weeks until I travel abroad and I have some interesting new ventures coming down the pipeline including a few workshops in Amsterdam -- more to come on that soon!
I am obsessed with Maria Bamford. She has a new special called Lady Dynamite streaming on Netflix now. Watch it--she is everything.
If you don't have Netflix, please enjoy a couple of my favorite pieces from her. Play. Enjoy. Laugh (a lot). Repeat.
Again, I feel as though I have to keep mentioning Note to Self, only because I'm trying something really cool right now where I'm trying to limit my social media usage by doing their 5-day challenge. While it has been a challenge to say the least, it has had a profound effect on my ability to focus. I will write a short piece reflecting on the experiment in a few days!
Here is a link to the episode -- http://www.wnyc.org/story/infomagical-challenge-1 -- It's only 11 minutes long and they have 5 or 6 mini-challenges to try!
I have been enjoying the podcast "You Must Remember This" so much that I have gone back to watch some of the old Hollywood Classics like Sunset Boulevard and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof... and they just get better and better with time.
Here is another poem about suicide, a topic that is close to my heart and my life. This poem is particularly interesting as this was actually a plea written by the author to a dear friend of his.
Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven’t they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Don’t go too early.
You’re tired. But everyone’s tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.