BAMA Kids 2017

Here's what we -- you, me, Zara Aina, and the BAMA Kids created -- in May of 2017.

You made all of this happen. Every single smile, dance, hug, and cheer you see in this video is because of you. You generously gave $4750 to get the Zara Aina crew of actors down there to create a totally original, mini-musical in less than one week with these adorable, fierce, fiery, and talented kids!. 

Thank you. I am so grateful for your support of this little homegrown, I'm-gonna-do-this-no-matter-what idea of mine. 

And, yes, I am doing it again in March of 2018! The folks at Zara Aina and I are already planning. 

Please make a donation here: http://zaraaina.org/donate/bama/

"Working with the kids at BAMA Kids was a reminder that everyone needs a chance to shine and be seen. These kids are flooded with ideas and creative talent. While watching one of the kids work I literary caught myself thinking “I’ve never seen that kind of talent before.” - Todd Estrin, Zara Aina actor

My 3 Things - August 2017

(The My 3 Things FAQ.)

1. POEM-ING: A little something from Jack Gilbert
Jack Gilbert's poems seem to show up in my life just in the nick of time. After reading and re-reading his book The Great Fires a few years back, I lost track of his poetry for a while.

(Some background: Gilbert received unprecedented fame when his first book received the Yale Younger Poets prize and a nomination for the 1963 Pulitzer Prize. At the height of the hoopla, he left America and its culture and literary scene behind by way of a Guggenheim fellowship to Greece. Though he did eventually return to the US, he never again enjoyed mainstream success. He considered himself a “farmer of poetry." His poems are spare, unhurried, full of life and the living of it. He waited two decades to publish his second book of poetry and another decade to publish his third.)

This month, a friend inserted Gilbert's poetry back into my life by reading this poem aloud to my voicemail. Needless to say, I saved the message.

Gilbert is a master of the bittersweet. Life, he shows us, is both beautiful and painful and there's absolutely no need to resolve the two.


HARM AND BOON IN THE MEETINGS
We think the fire eats the wood.
We are wrong. The wood reaches out
to the flame. The fire licks at
what the wood harbors, and the wood
gives itself away to that intimacy,
the manner in which we and the world
meet each new day. Harm and boon
in the meetings. As heart meets what
is not heart, the way the spirit
encounters the flesh and the mouth meets
the foreignness in another mouth. We stand
looking at the ruin of our garden
in the early dark of November, hearing crows
go over while the first snow shines coldly
everywhere. Grief makes the heart
apparent as much as sudden happiness can.
 

 

2. SEEING: Dawson City: Frozen Time, a film by Bill Morrison
The LA Times film critic Kenneth Turan nailed it when he said Morrison's new film "does so many things so beautifully it is hard to know where to begin."

I wholeheartedly agree.

Morrison’s film tells many stories, but the main one is about how several hundred reels of volatile nitrate film from the 1910s and ’20s were discovered decades after they were presumed lost. Not just lost, but totally forgotten. They were buried (used as landfill) in Dawson City, the legendary Yukon River town in northwestern Canada, considered ground zero of the mid- to late-19th century gold rush.

How the films ended up there, how they were discovered, and how they were saved is a wonderfully strange odyssey that I won't spoil for you. The life stories of the characters involved (including a certain Frederick Trump ... yes, that Trump) are simply not to be believed. 

Morrison's suspense-filled narrative is largely created from what is left of the now un-buried, un-lost films. At times his story boomerangs away. He simply cannot resist a few giddy and mesmerizing silent-film montages and meditations full of visual riffs and rhymes. These beguile and then astonish, as you remember that what you are seeing should not have been seen, would not have been seen had it not been for the permafrost and a backhoe.

When the house lights came up,  I was stilled, utterly spellbound, but Morrison's work is about impermanence and change and my life beckoned. Time is never frozen. 
 

3. DANCING TO: Cheryl Lynn's Got To Be Real

Seven minutes of unadulterated awesomeness. I dare you NOT to dance to this one. It's totally impossible. How real does it get? About as real as this song being considered one of the defining moments of disco. Oh hell yes.

 

+++ OUTRO & FAREWELL +++
It has been a privilege to have you aboard while I row this little boat of mine down the river of life, to point out the changing scenery, to remark on the weather (internal and external), and to luxuriate in the eddies and swirls of thoughts, delights, inspirations, and happenings. 

I have loved writing My 3 Things for you these past two years, so it is with a mixture of happiness and grief that I let you know that this is my last edition.

To all those who ever reached out to me by email or by leaving a comment on the blog itself, I salute you for your courage and I thank you for your humanity and willingness to share. You make my day, every day.

What's next?

I'll be creating and sharing more writing with you, but how much and when and about what? Who knows! I am in that wonderful space of creation and possibility. Life is short. I am dying everyday. Time is not frozen; limits are not fixed.

I look forward to connecting on the next adventure!

My 3 Things - July 2017

(The My 3 Things FAQ.)

1. LISTENING: Pescade Robioso's song Credulidad
I just heard this song for the first time and now it's on repeat. How did I not know about the music of Luis Alberto Spinetta? If you're a fan of Jeff Buckley, turn it up.

2. PLAYING & TALKING: an interview and a few of my new songs on WERU.org
Here's something sweet: last week at the community radio station WERU.org in Blue Hill, Maine, I got to talking with and playing new songs for the great DJ Mike Joyce on his show Barefoot Blues.
 

                                    Dj Mike & I at WERU.org

(Sidenote: Mike's been in radio for 30 years, and, in addition to the Barefoot Blues hour, he hosts a show called Boat Talk for all you boat fanatics out there).   

Mike's a great interviewer and we cover a lot of ground. My Dad joined me on his chromatic harmonica for the opening tune and then Mike and I get into it -- new songs, the stories behind them, the meaning of life, etc.

Community radio like the kind WERU creates is hard to come by these days (their motto is “a voice of many voices"). They've been playing my music since the beginning and for that I am very grateful. 

This interview is only up on the WERU online archives for another week, so if you want to listen, now is the time!
 

3. MARVELING OVER: Resist! -- a free magazine of political comics / graphics about women and everything else that matters

Speaking of a voice of many voices ...

Of course McNally Jackson -- the great Manhattan bookstore -- had a stack of RESIST! at the checkout counter. Luckily, my friend picked one up and showed it to me.

Holy smokes! Awesomeness and bad-assery on every page. 

Resist! sprung up after the November 2016 election (shocker ... not!). Edited and by produced by Françoise Mouly, art editor of The New Yorker, and her daughter, writer Nadja Spiegelman, Resist! is a "free print publication of political comics and graphics where our slogan, 'Women's voices will be heard,' can come true."

The pages overflow with images hilarious, sharp, tender, angry, and absurd on a huge variety of issues: the environment, power, immigration, sexism, racism, and the economy.

The editors weren't out for unity. What they wanted was a cacophony of voices and realities, something big and loud and messy. Something like democracy itself.

There are artists known and unknown here: Roz Chast, Lynda Barry, and Art Spiegelman to name only a few. Many of the images and thoughts come from abroad, the waves of anxiety and worry reaching other coasts than ours (Canada, Germany, Australia).

Resist! is entirely funded by individuals, comic shops, and bookstores; all the contributing artists forgo monetary compensation. You can click here to find a free copy near you, or better yet order a few and spread the wealth yourself.

++ OUTRO ++
I am always so happy to hear from you! Please send up a smoke signal and say Hi by leaving a comment below. Let me know what your 3 Things are! What lights you up right now? I want to know!

X to the O,
K

My 3 Things - June 2017

(The My 3 Things FAQ.)

1. LISTENING: Toni Childs "Don't Walk Away" from the album Union

This was the hit song from Child's 1988, Grammy-nominated album Union, one of my desert island discs. 

Not going to lie, I haven't listened to this record in five years or so. Suddenly, it resurfaced in my life; I've been on a scavenger hunt for music that captures my hopes and dreams for the Death Album.

Is it too much to hear new music from Toni? A set of songs that would do her incredible, indelible voice justice? I hope not. 

PS: 80s video awesomeness alert!
 

2. SEEING: Generation Wealth by Lauren Greenfield at the Annenberg Space for Photog. in LA
In so many ways, this show is not for the faint of heart.

It unsettled and disturbed me. Upon leaving, my soul felt coated in an unsavory residue that lingered for days. And yet, I am so glad I saw those pictures, read those words, glimpsed those worlds.

Greenfield's show overwhelms and overstuffs the cold, corporate corner in Century City that is the Annenberg Space for Photography. Parking and finding your way there is your first challenge. As you emerge from the concrete rabbit warren of the enormous glass and steel office complex into the faux-park courtyard, you're likely to see caterers rolling tables on their edges setting up for a corporate event and a clutch of famous bloggers-slash-social media personalities sharing meatballs and fries (the offices of CAA loom over you after all) at the luxury bistro-slash-coffee shop that caters to this microcosm. It's all very surreal. And you've not even seen the show yet.

Finally, you enter the Annenburg and that's when the cultural vertigo really sets in.

The photos are large, colorful, utterly absorbing. This is a master documentarian at work -- there is humor here. There is also restraint (on the part of the photographer, not -- let's be clear -- on the part of the subjects). The first-person interviews that accompany almost every image are gripping, pared-down but packing a huge punch; the short films and projections are mesmerizing.

Considered the "preeminent chronicler of consumerism and youth culture," Greenfield stares unflinchingly into the gaping, insatiable maw of our materialist, status-chasing, money-driven, "mine is bigger than yours" culture. She leaves no corner of the collective psyche unexamined: here's Tupac losing $10k in ten minutes in Las Vegas; there's a woman spread-eagled on a plastic surgeon's operating table getting everything that can be lifted and tucked lifted and tucked all at the same time; here's a stripper crawling on the floor of an Atlanta club, scooping up armloads of dollar bills thrown by a patron who admits he can't afford to make it rain the way he just did. From Russian oligarchs to Chinese billionaires to kids in LA who just can't stop spending on sneakers and jeans, Greenfield swan dives into "the influence of affluence over the last 25 years."  

This is important work. She's observing and examining the inescapably powerful forces bending all of our realities every single day -- consumerism, comparison, advertisement, social media, and the manufactured need for more, bigger, shinier, faster, newer, younger, now. She captures outrageous ambition with the same evenness of tone as she does moments of quiet and reflection and contrition. There's heart-wrenching humor here as well.

So what about that residue I felt on my soul?

Caused by the complexity of the subject matter no doubt, and by the ways in which Greenfield does her work so well that there's room for me to see myself in all of this, to see the ways in which I'm complicit. 

I'll leave the last words to one of my favorite people on the planet, the English musician, composer, record producer, singer, writer, visual artist, and shit-stirrer Brian Eno: "Lauren Greenfield's photographs range from hilarious to terrifying, sometimes in the same image. The images are unjudgemental -- dystopian shock and awe somewhere at the end of Empire -- and yet moving: she makes it personal. It could have been me."

The show is on until August 13, 2017.

 

3. WATCHING: Whitman, Alabama -- the documentary film
Having just come from the Black Belt of Alabama, the voices melodious and measured still ringing in my ears, watching a few episodes of this project helped cure me of a fraction of my homesickness.

Filmmaker Jennifer Crandall was born in Ethiopia and raised in Pakistan, Bangladesh and Haiti. She's part Chinese and part White. No wonder she's interested in identity.

She created the project Whitman, Alabama as "an experiment using documentary (film) and poetry to reveal the threads that tie us together—as people, as states, and as a nation."

For the last two years, she's been driving all over Alabama meeting people and inviting them to face the camera and share themselves through the words of Walt Whitman's “Song of Myself” -- a vital piece of American art and an artifact of our American project. 

This project is genius. Everything is here: the rural, the urban, the lost, the found, the high, the low, the old, the young, the free, the caged, the restrained, the superfluous. 

This particular episode will crack you open.

I see so much humanity and goodness in these faces, in these words, in this whole idea. I swoon and find myself falling in love with America again.