An old/odd bit of verse for a new picture

Nearly full moon in Ohio City, Bridge Ave. 

guarded garden

as if stars only shine on top of pines

and heads on spines

my, my, mine—far, farther, farthest reach of sky

*********************************on high

muddy teeth and that's not how you pick a peach

just because it spilled 

doesn't mean it's wasted           

spoiled yet tasted

toil and face it

The Throb of Life

Tired of typing on mobile while laptop broken, so longhand must do:

Fictive Kin

Shanna was in town and we rented her a bicycle so we could cycle 'round town. Some old man sitting on a stoop shouted at us, 

     "Are you two sisters?"

     "No, we're friends," I answered. 

     "Same thing," he yelled. 

the art & science of being a whole person

If we follow rather than fight anxiety to where it will lead us, we make additional and extraordinary discoveries. We realize that our supreme anxiety and our supreme values coincide. We are most anxious about losing the things that matter most. . .It seems we can choose our lowest despair as our highest goal precisely because that is the one way we can savour and see the fullness of our existence.

-Peter Koestenbaum, Freedom and Accountability at Work

Oh, My Space

So, I got some old files back and my old My Space blog was on them. Below is some kind of storytelling ascii thing. Fun to scroll through. Not really sure what exactly I was trying to do, but it made me smile. Hope the formatting stays in line . . . 

******

Resonance:

Her earliest memory is a jumble of many memories and part recurring toddler dream. She remembers a large rambling house and empty rooms and she wandered and was scared. she had only lived in a "ticky tacky" house and so this is the part that was probably a dream. 

She remembers sitting on her dad's lap and how he smelled like drywall dust that had soaked up beer. She remembers sitting sideways on the stair while her mom read to her and her big brother.

                                o
                             |_t_   0  O
                                   |_T   |---[I]
                                         |  |==o
                                                 |//,,

These are the first things she remembers. All of her other memories are compilations of stories that were told to her and pictures she has seen of herself along with her version about the way things should have been or simply the way they felt and perhaps weren't, actually.

These collections of memories and their varying degrees of accuracy are all right with her, but there are discrepancies. She remembers how things felt as opposed to how things were. How things were is not what is really important. You don't take were with you wherever you go; you take felt with you and keep it always either near or far from your heart.        

                                                            feelings

                                                  feelings                    

                                                                     

                                                                                          feelings

                                           feelings                  feelings 

          

                              feelings                              

                                                                                    feelings

Were

Were

Were

Were

Were

When her mom got pregnant with her little sister, things changed. She had to share a room with big brother. This was okay, except she liked her yellow bedroom better than his blue one.

                                       O
                                   <

The blue room had bunk beds. Her brother slept on the top bunk and she had the bottom. The baby got the yellow room and slept in a crib. The baby was small and squishy and red-faced when she cried. Her brother would roll over in his sleep and fall off of the top bunk into a tangle on the floor. She would wake up when she heard him land. He wouldn't. 

                           ___
                          /     /
|                               |
                  ,,----/-o /
|                           z  |
                        z  
         ''~~ ~~|-O 

Polyphonic Culture Smash

I'm pretty sure that Mom and her boyfriend Jose´ have never heard the Moldy Peaches, but they've perfected their polyphonic singing-over-each-other style. They were thrilled when they discovered they both know the same song in different languages. 

Here we have a beautiful culture smash of simultaneous renditions of "In them Old Cotton Fields Back Home" in both Spanish and English. According to Mom, this is probably the first song I ever heard in my cradle. Somehow I had a Southern/Appalachian upbringing smack dab in the Midwest. 

Mom & Jose´s rendition:

Many artists sing the song including Lead Belly, Johnny Cash and Creedence Clearwater Revival. 

Lyrics if you're curious:

When I was a little bitty baby
My mama would rock me in my cradle
In them old cotton fields back home
Now, when them cotton balls get rotten
You can't pick very much cotton
In them old cotton fields back home
It was down in Louisiana
Just about a mile from Texarkana
In them old cotton fields back home 

Spare

I've reviewed my life's list and I have decided that I'm done being so-so-careful with people. It is as if (using only eye contact) I grab you by your upper arm firmly until it is understood that my spareness isn't a lack of passion, but a winnowing down to the authentic--substituting meager with minimal and austerity for a simple abundance.  The difference? I think attitude. 

What's the BIG IDEA?

I really like the way Cuyahoga Arts and Culture is engaging citizens to vote which projects get funded. Six BIG IDEAS are online at  www.cacgrants.org/vote until February 20th. Cuyahoga County residents get to help decide which two new creative projects will be brought to life in our community through Cuyahoga Arts & Culture's Creative Culture Grants program.

Many of the projects are in the public space, uniquely Cleveland and oh, so creative. Many of them are designed to bring people out of the house, out of their car and into the neighborhoods to interact with the City and with each other. This is going to be a hard choice!

Classical, Bluegrass, N'awlins . . . Awesome

As part of the Cleveland Orchestra's Fridays @ 7 Series, Bela Fleck played with Cleveland Orchestra. Afterward, he let loose with a trio featuring New Orleans-based musicians Johnny Vidacovich (drums), Mark Mullins (trombone), and Roland Guerin (bass)  in the Grand Foyer. 

The best part? A surprise cameo by Bela's wife Abigail Washburn! She sang Nobody's Fault but Mine and His Eye is on the Sparrow. 

The demographics of the crowd was a little younger and a little less stuffy than the typical orchestra audience. Between Friday's @ 7 and the concerts at the Happy Dog, the Orchestra is being creative and clever about building new audiences in Cleveland. 

The Right Side of the Sofa

You were a Wild Turkey
Sharp as a tack, good as gold and bad as sin 'til the end
My memories of you are a paltry honor to the vigorous life you lived

You through a haze of cigarette smoke pulling me somewhat unwilling 

onto your knee 

saying, "c'mere goil (girl)" in your cotton country accent

  Smiling while smoke blows from your nose 

Me, wondering if your one, light-colored, milky eye

 was proof of our kinship

(this was before I knew about that fish hook)

Hitching up your pants before you sit down on the right side of the sofa

Grandma chastising ornery you with a graceful hand draped over her hidden smile

Road trip to West Virginia to watch those dogs run that track

Jesse McGowan was your name, and no, you were not Irish

You are my working class hero who lived your 90 years with unbeatable charm and an abundance that defied economics. 

Grateful for your genes and your genius
Thank you Paw Paw

My Lovely Commute Today

I walked in dewey, cooling weather to the Rapid Station and saw  some eco-conscious urban art that gave me hope,



got off the train and saw an angel in Tower City,



and finally, was amazed by the raw Soul Train talent shown here:

I love you Cleveland. 

Lit from Within

pumpkin party
Originally uploaded by Jenita McGowan.

My heart shines with love for Cleveland.

One of my dad's nicknames for me is "Punkin Head". I am not sure why. I never had red hair, but I do have a funny connection to pumpkins since I probably thought about them more than most over the years.

Sketch

I am surprised how quickly summer is over--autumn's beaches empty but for birds. Pale afternoon winds have me at a loss for words. I can paint a picture any way you can shout it, but sometimes the quiet things I can only depict with bare feet on a wooden floor. 

I Root for Beets

Picking Beets


Dirty Beet Pile


Pretty in Pink


Cooked and Cubed


Dark Chocolate Beet Cake Batter


What is left after a dinner party with good friends. 

The Cat Days of Summer

The Cat Days if Summer
Originally uploaded by Jenita McGowan.

The Cat Days of Summer

Happy Interdependence Day

"State of life, may I live, may I love
coming out the sky, I name me a name
coming out silver word for what it is
it is very nature of the sound, the game

Siamese, Indonese, to Tibet treat the life
as a game, if you please (hey)
coming up Caribee such a freedom
derives from a meditative state
movin' on, believe that's it, call it magic
third world, it is, I only guessed it

Sly

I was listening to Sly and the Family Stone the other day: Everyday People, Que Sera Sera, Dance to the Music, I Want to Take you Higher, Stand, Family Affair, You Can Make it if You Try. I was feeling so good listening and singing along when I realized how lucky I was to be raised listening to those songs. 


We had several of their albums in my parents vinyl collection. Yes, the music is infectiously soulful and funky, but what struck me were the messages contained within. My outlook on life--generally optimistic, open-minded, fun-loving, hard-working-- can be summed up quite accurately in Sly and the Family Stone lyrics. 


Made me wonder what kids are listening to these days and how it will color their world view. Here is my life philosophy summed up by Sly, Freddie, Larry, Rosemary, Greg and Cynthia: 


Everyday People

Sometimes I'm right and I can be wrong

My own beliefs are in my song

The butcher, the banker, the drummer and then

Makes no difference what group I'm in

I am everyday people . . . 

I am no better and neither are you

We are the same whatever we do

You love me you hate me you know me and then

You can't figure out the bag l'm in

I am everyday people 

Stand 

In the end you'll still be you
One that's done all the things you set out to do
Stand
There's a cross for you to bear
Things to go through if you're going anywhere
Stand
For the things you know are right
It s the truth that the truth makes them so uptight
Stand
All the things you want are real
You have you to complete and there is no deal
Stand. stand, stand

Family Affair

One child grows up to be

Somebody that just loves to learn

And another child grows up to be

Somebody you'd just love to burn

Mom loves the both of them

You see it's in the blood

Both kids are good to Mom

'Blood's thicker than mud'

You can Make it if you Try

You can make it if you try

Push a little harder

Think a little deeper

Don't let the plastic bring you down

And this one, you must hear for yourself:

Grapes of Zap

My grandmother Mentoria believed in understanding and listening to her dreams in order to better play the lottery. Keeping with tradition (minus the lottery part) I've interpreted the vivid dream I had last night.

I was riding on a passsenger train through the Ohio countryside. Looking out of the window there were miles and miles of utility poles. Strung between each pole are perfectly pruned concord grape vines laden with 2-inch, perfectly round juicy grapes.

According to some dubious online sources on dream interpretation, grapes mean abundance, traveling on a train symbolizes my life's journey, and power lines mean a struggle for empowerment.

An alternative interpretation is that I never pruned my grape arbor this winter and I feel guilt.

Sustainable Irony

I got a promotion and after some time trying to make it work, I've ended my time (for now) as a car-free Clevelander. With my new schedule, I tried a combination of cycling, bussing and Zipcar. My new sustainability related position has me attending meetings all over the place with very little travel time in between. I'd been leaving early and arriving late to everything which just "aint gonna fly" as my dad would say. The irony is not lost on me.

I've learned a lot from being car-free for 14 months in Cleveland. I've learned:

• you can live in Cleveland and have a good life sans automobile
• instant gratification is a lot harder without an auto, I spent less
• a "transit oriented lifestyle" is the inevitable result
• I like running into friends on RTA and in the bike lane
• empathy for families with little kids making complex transit journeys
• patience for standing outside in all kinds of weather
• the joy of cycling in winter
• how to smile at rude motorists
• how to be a rude cyclist
• that we need to have better transit network connections

and much more that I hope to apply in my new position. Someday I plan to be car-free again, but in the meantime I plan to have 2-3 car-free work days a week. 

Opportunity and Constraint

Opportunity and Constraint
Originally uploaded by Jenita McGowan.

Opportunity and Constraint