One of my cousins posted a video on Facebook of these guys playing. There’s something completely awesome about it. Soothing, rhythmic, joyous, upbeat, earthy, and tremendous. I had to share. The instrument is called the Hang. Enjoy the music of Hang Massive.
Sometimes we read things and they make us cry. This was one of those things for me.
I am in love. Still. 11 and a half years together and I am still in awe of our relationship. Fortune smiled on me, it smiled on us. And this year, finally, we were given the same privilege as all other tax paying, law abiding, loving couples who are committed to each other, we were able to get legally married. Technically it was our third marriage, our third to each other, though in our hearts we’ve been married, I think, since the beginning. Forever, for us, started a long long time ago. But this step, this privilege, this legal recognition of our relationship, and the protection it provides us, was so very significant to us. Which is why, I think, this poem made me cry.
That, and it’s beautiful…
I knew it then, in that room where we found for the first time our eyes, and everything— even the din and smoke of the city around us— disappeared, leaving us alone as if we stood the last two in the world left capable of love, or as if two mirrors face-to-face with no end to the light our eyes could bend into infinity.
I knew since I knew you—but we couldn’t…
I caught the sunlight pining through the shears, traveling millions of dark miles simply to graze your skin as I did that first dawn I studied you sleeping beside me: Yes, I counted your eyelashes, read your dreams like butterflies flitting underneath your eyelids, ready to flutter into the room. Yes, I praised you like a majestic creature my god forgot to create, till that morning of you suddenly tamed in my arms, first for me to see, name you mine. Yes to the rise and fall of your body breathing, your every exhale a breath I took in as my own wanting to keep even the air between us as one.
Yes to all of you. Yes I knew, but still we couldn’t…
I taught you how to dance Salsa by looking into my Caribbean eyes, you learned to speak in my tongue, while teaching me how to catch a snowflake in my palms and love the grey clouds of your grey hometown. Our years began collecting in glossy photos time-lining our lives across shelves and walls glancing back at us: Us embracing in some sunset, more captivated by each other than the sky brushed plum and rose. Us claiming some mountain that didn’t matter as much our climbing it, together. Us leaning against columns of ruins as ancient as our love was new, or leaning into our dreams at a table flickering candlelight in our full-mooned eyes.
I knew me as much as us, and yet we couldn’t….
Though I forgave your blue eyes turning green each time you lied, but kept believing you, though we learned to say good morning after long nights of silence in the same bed, though every door slam taught me to hold on by letting us go, and saying you’re right became as true as saying I’m right, till there was nothing a long walk couldn’t resolve: holding hands and hope under the street lights lustering like a string of pearls guiding us home, or a stroll along the beach with our dog, the sea washed out by our smiles, our laughter roaring louder than the waves, though we understood our love was the same as our parents, though we dared to tell them so, and they understood.
Though we knew, we couldn’t—no one could.
When the fiery kick lines and fires were set for us by our founding mother-fathers at Stonewall, we first spoke defiance. When we paraded glitter, leather, and rainbows made human, our word became pride down every city street, saying: Just let us be. But that wasn’t enough. Parades became rallies—bold words on signs and mouths until a man claimed freedom as another word for marriage and he said: Let us in, we said: love is love, proclaimed it into all eyes that would listen at every door that would open, until noes and maybes turned into yeses, town by town, city by city, state by state, understanding us and the woman who dared say enough until the gravel struck into law what we always knew:
Love is the right to say: I do and I do and I do…
and I do want us to see every tulip we’ve planted come up spring after spring, a hundred more years of dinners cooked over a shared glass of wine, and a thousand more movies in bed. I do until our eyes become voices speaking without speaking, until like a cloud meshed into a cloud, there’s no more you, me—our names useless. I do want you to be the last face I see—your breath my last breath,
I do, I do and will and will for those who still can’t vow it yet, but know love’s exact reason as much as they know how a sail keeps the wind without breaking, or how roots dig a way into the earth, or how the stars open their eyes to the night, or how a vine becomes one with the wall it loves, or how, when I hold you, you are rain in my hands.
~Poem by Richard Blanco.
For some reason this version of Here Comes the Sun by Nina Simone makes me feel warm and happy. Warm and happy seems like a great way to start off the New Year. Here’s hoping everyone has a warm, happy, joy-filled 2014.
I get feeds. You know, tidbits of info from various sources bringing in all type and manner of information. I subscribe to some. One, Upworthy, comes across on my Facebook news feed. I like this one in particular because the stuff is usually interesting, informative, and many times it’s positive. There’s loads of negative emotion, news, “stuff” out there these days and my opinion is that anything positive and uplifting is a very good thing. The whole good-things-out-into-the-universe-is-important perspective. Positive vibrations and all that. It’s not solely that, but much of the time it is that.
Without going into it too much, I particularly loved this one. It made me tear up, which if you know me doesn’t take much sometimes, but seriously… this is good. Plus the group who made it is called Soul Pancake. C’mon… that rocks.
Watch this, and get happy….
I took Martin to the airport on Monday. It’s a long drive, nearly three hours one way. The drive was uneventful and the weather was gorgeous. On the way home I decided to semi-document the drive. I recently found a case with a bunch of old mix CDs I’d made. We’ve been working our way around that case since the find. I had one in on Monday. So here it is… Illinois countryside, in bits, accompanied by the track that happened to be playing at the time. There are a few of these, peruse them at your leisure, or not. I find this amusing… but then I would. It combines music, driving, and a bit of the tech stuff I love. The first video is a tad long. Feel free to skip part of it should you need to move on. This is just one of the quirky things I find myself doing. Enjoy…
This guy is inspirational. If you don’t feel good after listening to this then I don’t know what could make you feel good. Besides which, after listening you might also want to tune into some classical music. This is a lovely talk.
I know this VIDEO is viral all over the web now, but I just happened to see it this morning and thought… hmmm… Mary… Martin… get on those dancin’ shoes!! Seriously though… this is great. If this video doesn’t make you feel good, I don’t know what will. Congrats to J&K.
Karen and I watch a few TV shows regularly. One of them is So You Think You Can Dance. It’s basically a talent show for dancers. During the course of the show the dancers are paired into couples and every week a guy and a girl is voted off, until they get down to the top 10. This show is pretty amazing if you haven’t watched it. The dancing is phenomenal and the choreography is… spectacular at times. Last night there was a piece, choreographed by Mia Michaels, that was breath taking and very emotional. Check it out.