Monday, December 12, 2011

Julia

Here she is, a few minutes old, born 12/12/11, 6 pounds, 10 ounces, but that's not important.  What is important is that she looks like a little Buddhist monk just waking up from a nine month's meditation, and she arrived, sticking her tongue out at us. I love that!  The girl has a sense of humor. There is nothing like looking into the eyes of a newborn, they are so wise, and we need their wisdom now more than ever. Welcome little Julia! 





THE CHILD ANGEL by Rabindranath Tagore

Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my child,
unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence.

They are cruel in their greed and their envy,
their words are like hidden knives thirsting for blood.

Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child,
and let your gentle eyes fall upon them like the
forgiving peace of the evening over the strife of the day.

Let them see your face, my child, and thus know the
meaning of all things, let them love you and love each other.



It's All Temporary

Monday, December 5, 2011

The Holidays

An excerpt from HOMER, MY LIFE by Homer.  Homer lives with his human, Patty, who works in a beauty Salon called Curl Up and Dye. Mark is Patty’s boyfriend, Tony and Christopher work with Patty at the salon.


One night Patty and I were driving home from Curl Up and Dye and I noticed little lights, like magic, sprinkled on trees, doors and along the roofs of the humans' houses.  When I see those lights, I know it is what the humans call "the holidays." From my bed in Patty's car, it is all I see out the window, rows and rows of little lights and sometimes fake reindeer with lights around their stomachs and wrapped around their ears. Humans hate real deer because they eat the food they plant in their gardens, but they can't get enough of the fake deer. Go figure. I guess because those deer can't eat anything. They don't even have any insides, just a skeleton with lights wrapped around it.

Sometimes a fat man human wearing black boots and a red suit perches on the roof, usually in a crumby little sled with more deer attached to the front of the sled. They want us to think the deer are pulling the sled, but they're not. It's dangerous the way he sits up there on the roof.  He is called Santa Claus, and there is more than one, you can see them standing in front of stores ringing bells with big black buckets.  Humans put money in the buckets but never any food. 

Once Patty took me to Dr. Dodge's office (My veterinarian) and there was one of those Santa Claus's right in his office. That was awful. I get nervous when I go to Dr. Dodge's anyway, and for good reason, so I didn't want to go in, but I saw a lot of other dogs, so I went. More than anything I like being with other dogs. We all got in a line which was the best part of that day, the sniffing and snuffing while we waited. I almost forgot why we were there but when there was no one else in front of me I found out in a hurry. Face to face with two shiny black boots, I looked up past two bright red knees and into the eyes of that Santa Claus with a fake white scraggly beard hanging off his chin. 

"Ho ho ho, who have we here"? 
"This is Homer, Santa," said Patty. She sounded as proud as she could be.

"Hi Homer, ho ho ho." What happened next was not so funny, we could have done without the ho ho ho's. Even though I am low to the ground, I am a lot heavier than I look and Santa found that out in a hurry when he tried to pick me up and put me on his lap. Half way up his face turned as red as his suit and he let out a snort. No more ho ho hos out of him.  I growled and slipped right through his shiny red arms and back on the floor. 

"Santa, are you all right,"? said Patty, all upset. Although a bit ruffled, Santa was ok, but Patty never did get a picture of me sitting on his lap. She had to take it with me on the floor next to his boots. She loved the picture anyway, and Santa gave me a chewy before we left, so the day wasn't a total disaster. 

While we were at Dr. Dodge's, Mark put a tree up in the living room. That's another thing the humans will always do during "the holidays", they put trees in their houses and hang balls and shiny stuff on it and fasten an angel on the top so it can't fly away. I feel sorry for that angel, the humans should let it come and go. They are afraid if they do that, the angel might fly away and never come back, and I wouldn't blame it.  Angels like peace and quiet and these humans can be louder than ever during "the holidays". It is very confusing because when I see a tree I want to lift my leg on it, but I remember what Hilde, my mother, told me about never peeing indoors. Trees belong outdoors. 

"Oh, Mark, it's beautiful, the sweetest Christmas tree I have ever seen." 
"It's not even decorated yet, Pat." 
"But it's perfect." 
"I talked to Mike today. He's beginning to line up his cast for the Cathedral Christmas pageant and he wants me to play the trumpet this year." 
"Great. " 
"He wanted to know if you wanted to sing in the choir." 
"Of course I do, and Tony will be a wise man again." My visit to Santa had pretty well worn me out so I was taking a major power nap during this conversation. 
"Mark, I want Homer to be in the pageant." 
"The last time I checked, I didn't see any Basset Hounds in nativity scene paintings at the museum, Patty." 
"So, we'll dress him up as a sheep." 
"Yeah, right." 
"Oh come on, Mark." 
"Let me talk to Mike." I woke up just as Mark said that, so I didn't know what he was going to talk to Mike about, I only knew they weren't talking to each other any more. They were kissing. 
"Deck your balls with strands of ivy, fa la la la la la la la la."
Patty and I were at Tony's friend, Christopher's apartment with Tony who was singing as he cooked something that smelled wonderful. Tony was in a good mood. He chopped peppers and onions and carrots the same way he mixes hair colors at Curl Up and Dye -- his hands just fly through the air. A big black frying pan sizzled on the stove waiting to receive everything he chopped with a hiss and a spit. 

Every once in awhile he and Christopher would look at each other and giggle, I don't know why, they knew some joke we didn't -- or maybe it is just that Christopher laughs most of the time. I have to say that he is one of my favorite humans because he has the most wonderful laugh. Humans call it a belly laugh, which is a perfect way to describe it, like an approaching locomotive building up steam until the room just rocks. It starts quietly somewhere in his stomach (which is pretty big)  travels up to his shoulders which begin to go up and down like a yo yo when the laugh takes hold and then continues up through his throat until waves of laughter escape out of his mouth.  You have to be there.

Some humans live in houses and some live in apartments. I'm not sure what the difference is, except I think apartments have to be smaller. Christopher's apartment was really one big room, the kitchen and the living room all together. Christopher sat at a table in the living room in front of a machine that said "SINGER". When he put his NIKE on a pedel on the floor the machine would go "whirrrrr" as he guided a big furry thing in and out of the machine. 

"OK, Homer, we're ready for a fitting," said Christopher, shaking that furry thing back and forth. Lint and fur flew out of it, and I backed away, it gave me the creeps. Christopher sews for a living, he makes costumes for a theatre troupe, so he knows what he is doing. It had the same kind of holes my sweater has so I knew what was coming.

I could sense one of Christopher's laughs building up when he looked at me and it was embarrassing. I was embarrassed in front of Patty and Tony and Christopher, even though they told me how wonderful I looked, so can imagine how I felt on Christmas Eve in front of hundreds of humans?

"Don't worry, Homey, Christopher will be right there with you," said Patty.  "He is going to be your very own shepherd and he will stand next to you during the whole pageant. Christopher patted the top of my woolly head which was attached to my woolly body. Boy, if he ever started laughing in the middle of the pageant, I bet even Mary and Joseph wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. 

"I'm going to bring a pocket full of biscuits, Homer, and you can eat them all night long." 
"Mark will there there, and I will come marching down the aisle with the choir so we'll all be together. And you'll see Tony march down the aisle in his wise man clothes," said Patty, her blue eyes all serious and sparkling at the same time. All this was supposed to make me feel better about being a pretend sheep, but it didn't. 
"I'll be carrying a little gold box full of hash," said Tony. "We can all get stoned." 
"Tony! You can't get stoned in front of a thousand people in the cathedral on Christmas Eve," said Patty. 
"It's a gift for the Christ Child and the Christ Child will share his gift." 
"You're supposed to bring the Christ Child frankincense, not marijuana." 
"I'll bring that baby frankincense AND marijuana. Now let's eat." 

Sunday, December 4, 2011

How Attraction Happens by Rumi



Moses is talking to someone drunk with worshipping the golden
calf.  What happened to your

doubt?  You used to be so skeptical of me. The Red Sea parted.
Food came every day in the

wilderness for forty years.  A fountain sprang out of a rock.
You saw these things

and still reject the idea of prophethood.  Then the magician
Samiri does a trick to make

the metal cow low, and immediately you kneel!  What did that
hollow statue say?  Have you

heard a dullness like your own?  This is how attraction
happens: people with nothing

they value delight in worthlessness.  Someone who thinks
there's no meaning or purpose

feels drawn to images of futility.  Each moves to be with
its own.  The ox does not turn

toward a lion.  Wolves have no interest in Joseph, unless
to devour him.  But if a wolf

is cured of wolfishness, it will sleep close by Joseph,
like a dog in the presence of

meditators.  Soul companionship gives safety and light
to a cave full of friends.

Rumi

It's All Temporary

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

My Week with Marilyn

Because I have been fascinated with the complex persona of Marilyn Monroe for years, I have read everything I could get my hands on about her, and was curious to see My Week with Marilyn as soon as it opened.  I loved it although it would not be everyone's cup of tea. 



Shortly after Marilyn married Arthur Miller, the couple flew to England. She was to star in a movie with Laurence Olivier, a huge feather in her cap. The movie was fraught with almost insurmountable problems from the getgo. Olivier, who had never appeared in a movie was used to appearing in front of a large audience. Marilyn wanted desperately to do theatre, but had only appeared in movies.

In addition, her addiction to drugs and alcohol was beginning to take hold, she had a terrible time memorizing her lines, and often appeared on the set hours late. Complicating matters was her dependance on Paula Strausberg, her drama coach, who was just about as weird as she could be.


The plot was almost secondary to the acting, camera work and lighting. Michelle Williams was wonderful as Marilyn, and Eddie Redmayne, the young man on the set who falls in love with her delivered his role with a poignancy perfectly suited to his predicament. What I loved best about the movie was that it proved once again that although, flawed, Marilyn was a marvelous actress.  How sad.  As time passed in her life she became increasingly tortured due to her inability to release herself from "Marilyn" and become the brilliant actress she might have been.









It's All Temporary