Writing about time — and finishing up with Tom Waits — has sent me in search of time songs. Today I offer a soundtrack to pass the time. Bruce Cockburn opens the set with “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.” John Mellencamp continues: “Save Some Time to Dream.” An old favorite — Shawn Colvin singing “Ricochet…
Lent is almost over and I am just now digging into the stack of books I got for Christmas. The one on the top of the heap was About Time: Cosmology and Culture at the Twilight of the Big Bang by Adam Frank. Ginger gave it to me because she knows how fascinated I am…
love is the opening door love is what we came here for no one can offer you more do you know what I mean have your eyes really seen — Lesley Duncan, “Love Song” Lesley Duncan’s lyrics came back to find me today (I know the song because of Elton John’s cover on his Tumbleweed…
when it rains like thisI wish for my old vinylrecords and the songsthat seep back intomy heart like waterinto our basement its something otherthan mere melancholyor even memory the melodies have wornrivers in my heartwhose beds grow dry from time to time . . .and then it rains wordsand music – blossomsmile some sunshineand I…
Last night as we were getting ready for the Cocoa Cinnamon tasting, Leon had a plastic bottle filled with sand from the Sahara he had brought home from time spent in Tunisia and Morocco. He poured some into a brass Turkish coffee pot and let us touch it. The sand was somehow fine and coarse…
Many years ago, I wrote a song that began, “Here’s another picture of love . . . ” Tonight, we added several more photographs to that album as Areli and Leon from Cocoa Cinnamon did a coffee, tea, and chocolate tasting at our house as a way of preparing us for the awesome coffee shop…
First Fig My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends— It gives a lovely light! — Edna St. Vincent Millay I have kept my practice of a Lenten journal now for many years. This, however, is the first year I have…
In my post yesterday I quoted from Bruce Springsteen’s keynote address at South-by- Southwest, which I would like to repeat: The purity of human expression and experience is not confined – there’s no pure way of doing it; there’s just doing it . . . . At the end of the day, it’s the power…
Next Sunday I am going to be a part of a bluegrass group that will be the service musicians for our morning worship. Most of the group is one family – parents and three boys, all of whom play instruments. The youngest one, who is six or seven, plays the mandolin likes it’s part of…
when I walked outside this morningthere was enough moisture in the airfrom last night’s thunderstormto make me feel close to the oceanand aware of my place in the world the lettuces that lived throughwhat passes for winter around herehave gone to flowering, a displayof well-deserved botanical arroganceand I am aware of my place . ….