A nice old man at my work passed away last week of cancer. Ray.
The following poem was in his funeral service.

Not how did he die, but how did he live?'
Not, what did he gain, but what did he give?
These are the units that measure the worth
Of a man, as a man, no matter his birth.
Not what was his church, nor what was his creed?
But had he befriended those really in need?
Was he ever ready, with word of good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
Not what did the sketch in the newspapers say,
But how many were sorry when he passed away.
Anonymous

Voltaire

"God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh."

I don't really know what to say right now, but I'm bursting with a desire to communicate. Thus, I'm using other people's words until I can truly find my own.

A little love...

I am disappearing into poetry once again. Doing some spiritual nourishment. Maybe I'll move some.
Reading poetry brings solitude and peace. It is walking through an art gallery in my mind. I find pace, rhythm and self- observation that is truly my own.

At a Window
by Carl Sandburg

Give me hunger,
O you gods that sit and give
The world its orders.
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long loneliness.
In the dusk of day-shapes
Blurring the sunset,
One little wandering, western star
Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.
Let me go to the window,
Watch there the day-shapes of dusk
And wait and know the coming
Of a little love.

Myself and My Person

Myself and My Person
by Anna Swir

There are moments
when I feel more clearly than ever
that I am in the company
of my own person.
This comforts and reassures me,
this heartens me,
just as my tridimensional body
is heartened by my own authentic shadow.

There are moments
when I really feel more clearly than ever
that I am in the company
of my own person.

I stop
at a street corner to turn left
and I wonder what would happen
if my own person walked to the right.

Until now that has not happened
but it does not settle the question.

Virginity by Anna Swir

One must be brave to live through
a day. What remains
is nothing but the pleasure of longing—very precious.

Longing
purifies as does flying, strengthens as does an effort,
it fashions the soul
as work
fashions the belly.

It is like an athlete, like a runner
who will never
stop running. And this
gives him endurance.

Longing
is nourishing for the strong.
It is like a window
on a high tower, through which
blows the wind of strength.

Longing,
Virginity of happiness.

I am graduated! I did it. Good for me.

My parents arrive on the 31st. No plans for exact return to my homeland. Soon.

Much Love

Man is most nearly himself when he achieves the seriousness of a child at play. - Heraclitus

Wow. I'm a bit lost. It's okay.

One's-Self I Sing
by Walt Whitman

One’s-Self I sing, a simple separate person,
Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse.
Of physiology from top to toe I sing,
Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the Muse, I say the Form complete is worthier far,
The Female equally with the Male I sing.
Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,
Cheerful, for freest action form’d under the laws divine,
The Modern Man I sing.

Sometimes with One I Love
by Walt Whitman

Sometimes with one I love I fill myself with rage for fear I effuse unreturn’d love,
But now I think there is no unreturn’d love, the pay is certain one way or another
(I loved a certain person ardently and my love was not return’d,
Yet out of that I have written these songs).

Forgive my indulgence....

My niece.

I'm in the final week of my last break before my last term of grad school.
In this last term we have no more classes. The first three weeks we are left to perfect and prepare for a public presentation of our best work throughout the year. The last 4-5 weeks is devoted to working on our final projects which are shown in the last two weeks of school.

Without being too dramatic (which is difficult for a performer), it is the end.

I am thoroughly excited. I'm excited to focus on creating work, honing it, playing with it. Essentially I am excited to work at what I've been training in for the past two years. I am also completely buzzing about plotting what to do next. I have my plans in Portugal till October and then hopefully ("grant"-willing) I'll have plans to the end of the year.

*Deep happy healthy creative silly sounding Sign*

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

My friend Erin, reminded me of a wonderful artist here in London. His name is Banksy. He does graffiti on public walls, you can't live in London without seeing some of his work. He truly is, for me, oneof the most impactful artists I have experienced. He makes stencils and then runs around tagging unused walls and sidewalks of london.








I have included some images of his stuff:

This is from Erin's blog regarding the video below.... (by the way, my US friends, fyi. TESCO is a chain supermarket in the UK, like Safeway or Albertsons)
"Here is some street art that I am enjoying at the moment:
I see this Banksy each morning as I go to work. From the website: "What we find to be most important about the video is the diversity of the people who stopped, noticed, and most importantly - appreciated - the work. The video is a terrific testament to the "value" of street art."

I am on my break from school. I realize I only have two more terms.

The summer is approaching. The sun struggles with the clouds to bring about summer. I am cheering for the sun. The clouds are making a good fight. Rain pelts the sidewalks daily and then the tired overcast clouds, exhausted from pummelling soaked londoners, release their hold on the skies and the sun makes a fine show.

I consider buying a bike. But the schizophrenia of the weather keeps me a spendthrift.

I love to watch people on the train. I love to spin tales of their lives and where they are going. People on a train are going somewhere, oh the places they go! I also like to watch people in queues or lines. Patience becomes physical. Children are fun to watch as well, but I worry that their parents will find me strange.

and I am not strange.