Walking Mid Town. With Keats…

Early evening. Heat shimmers from the asphalt. I stand waiting for the Don’t Walk sign to turn…I’m three blocks from the entrance to Grand Central and my Metro North train ride home.  Hulking skyscrapers, mid-town Manhattan Gods, offer shade, a welcome cover to a day that needs to end. You are spent. 

And…as I stand waiting, here they come. Non consecutive lines from the Keats’ sonnet Bright Star

The moving waters at their priestlike task…
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors —
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell

And why Keats? Why this poem? Why these lines? Why now? What algorithm upstairs decides it’s time for this?  Here on 42nd Street, so far from the glacial waters of Home, so many galaxies from The Rockies, so many months from snow.  Yet, and somehow, and for some reason, it’s pulled up.

I feel the pillowy softness of snow in August, and the cool melt of crystals on my tongue. And I’m swept away, miles from the cacophony of horns, engines, tourists and the sweltering August heat.

The light turns. I walk. I cross the street and the smell of fried chicken fills my lungs…I inhale deeply…tantalizing. Keats’ grip on me vaporizes. [Read more…]

Fleetwood Mac and “Dreams” – A thing of beauty is a joy forever

It has been 40 years (40 years!) since the release of Fleetwood Mac’s masterpiece 1977 album, “Rumours.”  This is a deconstruction of the hit song “Dreams” from the album.  I think it is safe to say that 40 years from now, we’ll still be listening to Fleetwood Mac.  And as John Keats wrote, “a thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

Sunday Morning

wind-air-breathe-jpg

To
take into the air
my quiet breath…

~ John Keats, from Ode to a Nightingale 

 


Photo: Margaret Durow via sotick

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