remuemenage

I am basking in the slow lingering glow of Autumn light - shadows spread across the Plaza. The reflecting pool mirror image shimmering in the bare breeze. A trace of burnish on the bordering maple trees. The freshness in the air mixed with the bright sun charges the atmosphere. Sightseers, bicycle riders glide past lost in seperate universes. Scaffolding mounts the capital building which resembles a gigantic chateau such as might be seen in the Loire Valley of France - interminable roof repairs mar its beauty. Cathedral bells summon me home.

I often go to the Plaza, it is an uplifting monumental place. Go there to read, to translate Ovid, to meditate, to just become aware of myself in the day.

Today I am excited at the prospect of seeing Madaleine Peyreux at the Egg (The New York State Performing Arts Center). At the tender age of 22 she put out an album of Jazz Standards to critical acclaim. Talented and wise she abandoned her burgeoning career in the Jazz world to sing in the Paris Metro for a decade forsaking the pitfalls of too-early fame. She has since returned to New York, and now at my age (in her early 30's) has put out two records back to back in the space of 2 years. She has a rich voice that has been naturally compared with Billie Holiday & she plays guitar.

-------------------------------------------------------

whisper of liquid vitality - an embrace closer than skin. the needle edge of perception floating on a maroon sea. bodyvessel lifting up mind's arc of discovery against the rhythm of a vast exterior ocean, against the song of the interior sea - a bright ecstatic human music perched between. storm-battered within & without, ill-timed air causing the flickering light of the mind to go off course - to go out.