When Forgiveness Was a Stage

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Oh we don’t go to church anymore
made her realize, how much she missed
that, his belief, casting bygones          gone, when
forgiven was a stage everyone got to walk       across,
acting lead parts.

Grace.
Easier times, with enough space to wonder aloud,
wander through, no one jumping to bets why,
only questions, and time enough       to say, everyone
waiting for reasons, everyone waiting for you to say
your lines.

Vs.ii © Tara Linda 4/19/17

After the Rains

I hope this New Year has begun well for you, Friends. My wish may seem late, but since I tend to spread out my new year celebrations over several weeks between the first new moon, through Chinese New Year (last weekend), and into the Tibetan New Year (starts Feb 27)- I’d say my wish is right on time. 😉  As my Mum would say: Child, keep Celebrating!!!moon-casting-sheet-1-1024x1024

Source: Carrie Paris

This year began a bit differently- in retreat, on the Northern Cali coast.

Sitting in Rain

How many drops

can this silence hold?

Waves. An Ocean. Minds eye

draws the curtain, sheets of intention

falling to earth. Grey beyond

grey, thirst beyond deluge.

How many raindrops in one breath?

The empty gourd, turns its mouth

receptive, for all sensation to

overflow. Holding

Emptiness. Infinite

gush. Space.

 Tara Linda © 2017

These rains, of course long overdue to our thirsty Cali lands, have been shocking in abundance, a delightful respite from a 5 year drought. The psyche, mountains, and ground water tables are all happy. Personally, to recharge via silence when the world parties in a New Year-ha! Highly recommended.

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2016 was a creatively and musically fairly quiet;  I passed up our usual EU summer tour, radio promo and tour for our latest CD,  and US shows, all to spend more time on the home front with family and friends. There’s nothing like death or a dying parent to get you thinking of the value of putting your house in order so to speak. So 2016 was more of all that. I didn’t want to have regrets, or leave anyone else with any, when it matters. I realized that it really doesn’t take much to say ‘hey, I appreciate you’, or to find as many ways to say goodbye inside someone else’s shrinking space. And yet we all keep so busy. And so we just don’t. Realizing this made 2016 full.

ON the HORIZON:  New music of course! I have projects to finish for others who have commissioned songs (yep- getting back to it, creating time to create, starting this month). I have a revamped studio courtesy of my very supportive music engineer, and can’t wait to start recording again along new & unexpected directions. There are new songs begun for a follow up Tortilla Western CD.

And some work that is entirely different too (hint: no vocals 😉

One current inspiration for this later direction is composer performer Nicolas Jaar.he works with a huge sonic vocabulary as an electronic writer- interesting stuff. I recommend streaming his CDs on Tidal (https://listen.tidal.com/artist/3832155 ), a music streaming service if you haven’t heard, that was begun by musicians for musicians. Tidal was heavily promoted by Prince because  we get paid for our music better than the others.

Writing wise, I am enjoying the challenge of sonicscapes and backdrops built in real time, as Nicolas does if you see him live. He writes long pieces that build with vast libraries; chill, world music, jazz, voice and dialog, classical, all placed within the the usual electronic genres. This is excellent ambient background music; on the videos- if you don’t like something, just skip ahead. 😉

I have several new projects in the works for 2017 too. Of course, the 52 Poems a Year project begins again with this post. And there are 2 other blogs of projects Ii just started as well, that I will spill the beans on, next post.

Wishing you an AMAAZING New Year filled with Joy, Mystery, and Creative Abundance!!

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Thank YOU for visiting this blog!

Sappho’s Muse

Aloof

Muse awoke

You promised me a poem

I faltered…no time-

Then read your Sappho! she whirled

Leave your fragments, crumbs to Air!

Tanka. ©Tara Linda

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I’m enjoying this awesome new book~ Searching for Sappho by Philip Freeman. I like it because in addition to offering her poems, it presents her fragments within a cultural construct; what could have been happening in and around Sappho on Lesbos and elsewhere in the region, notably Sparta and Athens, as she was living and writing? What could have influenced and inspired her? What were the marriage ceremonies that she wrote so much about? What is a possible cultural basis of the last Sappho poem found- as evidenced by other neighboring Greek writers, existing histories (that were not burned), and the writers who came later quoting Sappho in their poetry courses and writings in ways more complete than her found fragments show. What is news to me is that while she had her detractors, yes, there were more who respected her- masters, Aristotle among them- who held her poems, songs, and words as a supreme example of a highly skilled poet who equaled and surpassed the writers of her day, in voice, complex Greek forms and technique, as well as output.  This book is a fast read; highly recommended. Even if your Muses spurn you for not wanting to put it down to write for them. 😉

sappho

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Oakland Drummer- I

We hear him first

two blocks away, past Grand Avenue

the din of a parallel freeway, his bass and back up.

Loud, small, young, maybe 14       he plays     alone,

nested in a 5-pc kit, on a throne, sidewalk street corner 

while hundreds run, tightrope-walk-balance, drive

play soccer around him.

 

Hard hitting and lush

his tempos tame time in waves that roll 

connecting our smiles from inside out before moving 

across the Lake      into open windows and back through

the Farmer’s market and up      on beyond blue where

hungry stars and planets await this little gift

of rhythm.

 © Tara Linda 2016

 

INspired in Oakland-dog01421-SML

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Heart – Filled

Two moons
and one solstice ago
his words came…

Heart-Filled

Two moons
and one solstice ago
his words came, woven in an Easterly
driven by frozen rain, unrelenting cold
they pushed West, gale force unyielding, sure
with 8 arms waving, hands cupped and overflowing
with nectar clear, light, soothing, sweet they pushed
head-on shadowed storms, unseen winds, inertia
up and over plains, mountains, heavy with mist,
each syllable, a ray of Sunlit compassion, multiplied hundreds more of itself~ traveled to the farthest coastal
cliffs, beyond bay and sea

Now the rain
Stillness
Now the jasmine
blooms at night
Taralinda © 2015
Thank you Mikial.

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