February 24th, 2006


Leonard Cohen songs

I'm listening to "A bunch of lonesome heros", which turns out to be the 100th song that this computer has downloaded from iTunes... and on the very day that we heard over the radio that iTunes had sold its billionth song. Little Springtime said that since she knew I had downloaded one today, she wondered if I had downloaded the billionth. But no, that lucky person was Alex Ostrovsky, from Michigan. There will be a scholarship set up in his name at the Julliard School of Music, and he gets an iMac computer, a 10,000-dollar gift certificate to iTunes, and 10 iPods. The song was Coldplay's "Speed of Sound," which Little Springtime thought was amusing--the sound of all that music racing around cyberspace, I guess.

Leonard Cohen is great to listen to if you're melon-collie ... and if you're *not* melancholy and you listen to Leonard Cohen, you might end up that way.

I remember first hearing Leonard Cohen when my mother would do yoga exercises, but right now I can't recall which of the houses we lived in that was, so I can't recall if it was Before Eight or After Eight. (We moved house when I was eight.) I remember it went right into me--zap. She had the album (vinyl, folks!) "Songs of Leonard Cohen," which on the back has a painting of a woman in chains going up in flames. I was fascinated by that picture. I think my mom told me it was supposed to be Kateri Tekakwitha--but she didn't die burned up, so I'm not sure about that. (I stuck in that link to a bio of Kateri Tekakwitha, but she's just the sort of Catholic saint (almost; still just "blessed") that I'm least interested in--admired because she had a hard life and was a virgin, neither of which seem points for emulation in my mind. Sometimes you can't help having a hard life, but I don't like the glorification of hardship.)

"A bunch of lonesome heros," though, comes from the album "Songs from a Room"

I really like the lyrics of Collapse )

I'm trying that as an lj-cut to see if I can make that work.

If it does, I can put my sap updates under an lj-cut for the duration of the season. For today, though, about the sap I'll write here that I got two gallons, which I boiled almost all down, but will finish in the morning. Except it *is* morning now--4:01. Soon I should get to proper work.

Here is a question--how much can you help someone, and how much should you? In yet another Leonard Cohen song, the narrator in the song says "and thanks for the trouble you took from her eyes; I thought it was there to stay, so I didn't try." There are all kinds of contradictory bits of folk wisdom out there on that score. Sometimes people are happy the way they are--for instance, I get melancholy, but I wouldn't want to be cured of that, thanks very much. But on the other hand, if someone seems unhappy and yet claims not to be, does that mean you're absolved of any responsibility to try to make things better? Maybe they can't imagine anything better but would be much, much happier if things changed. And maybe they're not in a fit state to judge (though that's dangerous logic--someone could say that about me and being melancholy, too). Part of it is the Golden Rule problem. Doing unto others as you would have others do unto you is good general practice, but if others like a different kind of treatment from the kind you like, then things get tricky.

Heyes: Wakanomori's dream was about a foundling baby. It was very sweet--ask him about it one day.

(no subject)

The problem with writing when I'm feeling morose is I forget to mention bunches of good things.

For instance: responses to my request to use bird photos for my nature booklet. I sent out about 14 e-mails to people whose images I want to use, and have already gotten about 4 back, and they've been so friendly and so positive and encouraging. One from a couple in Kentucky, with a great website for kids, one from a photographer in Arizona, one from a fish and wildlife department in I-forget-where, and one from a woman whose blog (not a livejournal blog) I found a photo at--directing me to the photographer.

Also: Three cheers for Little Springtime. She baked us a pound cake, with a genuine pound of butter.

And something new: today in my morning wanderings, I found two large sticks, tied together with red yarn so as to make a cross-shape, and then with yarn connecting the four tips, to make a kite-shape. On the longer stick was written words that included "heal," "gun," "sword" (spelled "sward") and something else--maybe "strike". Nearby was a single, thinner stick with orange yarn wrapped around the center. Very mysterious. Looks as if someone was having an interesting adventure in the woods.

And finally: It was windy this morning, and some of the trees were creaking very musically and alarmingly. They sounded like stringed instruments tuning up.