Tuesday, December 17, 2024

Happy Holidays-- a song and a vision

It has been almost four years since I've made a post on this blog.  I want to wish my friends a merry Christmas (or Hanukah) and a happy new year.   I'd like to congratulate my old friend Mike Jackman for producing the movie, "Conclave" a thriller about the election of a new Pope starring Ralph Fiennes.  It is  a captivating film with a brilliant score and wonderful performances, including the stern and pivotal one by Isabella Rosselini as a head nun.  Not to spoil, but the ending is a surprising and timely twist on gender.  I also recently re-watched "The English Patient," released in 1996, with a young Ralph Fiennes as the dying Hungarian count whose passionate romance with a married Kristin Scott Thomas, is told in flashbacks from his bed in a bombed out monastery taken over by the guileless and determined Canadian nurse played by the beautiful Juliet Binoche, who won an Oscar for best supporting actress. The film is set in the North African desert and in Italy during WWII.  Seeing this epic drama again, has prompted me to get Ondaajte's novel, on which it is based. The film has personal resonance for me because on the way to see it in 1997, my voices told me to go to the hospital and I was admitted to a psychiatric ward in Cambridge Hospital for two weeks.  Then I returned to New York City to finish my first CD, "Being Visited" on the Knitting Factory label.  

Back to the holidays.  Here's a glorious rendition of one of my favorite Christmas Carols by Celine Dion.  

https://youtu.be/Y1oLk54R5Xg?si=MGVONoOEE7-rDbsJ

I would also offer this vision of the Virgin Mary de Guadalupe as a Christmas icon.  She appeared to Juan Diego, an Aztec man, who converted to Christianity.  He built a shrine in her honor.  



In late January, early February Metapsychosis Journal will publish five poems of mine about my ordeal with the Hindu deity Ganesha.  I will record the poems with my friend, pianist and composer, Eric Zinman.  Brian George has provided a splendid layout for the poems with graphics, including pictures of the deity from Tibetan lore.




 




Sarah Hannah 1967-2001

STRANGE ANGELS

STRANGE ANGELS

Laurie Anderson The Dream Before (for Walter Benjamin) lyrics


"Hansel and Gretel are alive and well And they're living in Berlin She is a cocktail waitress He had a part in a Fassbinder film And they sit around at night now drinking schnapps and gin And she says: Hansel, you're really bringing me down And he says: Gretel, yu can really be a bitch He says: I've wated my life on our stupid legend When my one and only love was the wicked witch. She said: What is history? And he said: History is an angel being blown backwards into the future He said: History is a pile of debris And the angel wants to go back and fix things To repair the things that have been broken But there is a storm blowing from Paradise And the storm keeps blowing the angel backwards into the future And this storm, this storm is called Progress."

Laurie Anderson The Dream Before (for Walter Benjamin) lyrics




Tony on Sherman St.

Mary Louise Parker

Mary Louise Parker
Good Witch of "Weeds" TV

Goliath's Head

Goliath's Head
Caravaggio

MEMORIAL DAY by Lo Galluccio

I might have stood with my Mother

on Sparks Street cheering the veterans of America’s

just and unjust wars

march past,

weeping for my Dad who died

jaundiced in the infirmary of society

not on the opera bloodied battlefield.

Instead into the cold confines of

film spectacle to see young Scandinavians

wrestle with writing and go mad,

jumping into the cold cobalt sea

off Oslo piers--

Two days ago Caravaggio’s dead Madonna

in crimson cloak crossed my mind as a Reiki healer

pulled my ear lobes. The church rejected

her because she was so heavy and lifeless,

daring to lie there dead,

not asleep for ascension’s sake--

That day I left behind my watch and black wrist band.

Strange, he’d made me undress--

the badboy of the Renaissance who loved his sword

and put his head into Goliath’s -- eyes bulging

with crazed fury, held by David’s victorious angelic fist.

To be today, not to be seen, to swear allegiance

to something else.