The Art of Disappearing by Naomi Shihab Nye    (Naomi at the Loft/Open Book reading Sept 30, 2006) A poet's take on how to carve out some time for yourself.     Naomi at the Loft, 9.30.2006 photo by Jules     When they say Don’t I know you? say no.   When they invite you to the party remember what parties are like before answering. Someone telling you in a loud voice they once wrote a poem. Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate. Then reply.   If they say We should get together say why?   It’s not that you don’t love them anymore. You’re trying to remember something too important to forget. Trees. The monastery bell at twilight. Tell them you have a new project. It will never be finished.   When someone recognizes you in a grocery store nod briefly and become a cabbage. When someone you haven’t seen in ten years appears at the door, don’t start singing him all your new songs. You will never catch up.   Walk around feeling like a leaf. Know you could tumble any second. Then decide what to do with your time.   “The Art of Disappearing” from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems by Naomi Shihab Nye, copyright 1995.

"Why do you stay here and live this mean toiling life when a glorious existence is possible for you? These same stars twinkle over other fields than these."                            -- Henry David Thoreau   Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.   Concerning acts of initiative and creation there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which ills countless ideas and splendid plans:   That the moment one definitely commits oneself then Providence moves too.   All sorts of things occur to help one that would otherwise never have occurred.   A whole stream of events issues from the decision raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamt would come his way.   Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.   Begin it now.   -- Goethe

"You can do anything you want to do. What is rare is this actual wanting it so much that you are practically blind to all other things, that nothing else will satisfy you...I know I have said a lot when I say ‘You can do anything you want to do.’ But I mean it.... Blunder ahead with your personal view... The real work of art is the result of a magnificient struggle." -- Painter Robert Henn from his book, "The Art Spirit"   "A certain day became a presence to me; there it was, confronting me -- a sky, air, light: a being. And before it started to descend from the height of noon, it leaned over and struck my shoulder as if with the flat of a sword, granting me honor and a task. The day’s blow rang out, metallic -- or it was I, a bell awakened, and what I heard was my whole self saying and singing what it knew: I can." -- Denise Levertov from "Breathing the Water"   "I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you can see all kinds of things you can't see from the center."  Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (1922-2007) American novelist

This is another postcard that I had on my file cabinet; sent out by the U of MN when Adrienne Rich read here in Minneapolis, September 2001 (a few days after 9.11). How I needed to see and listen to then, and read her again and again.     AND NOW by Adrienne Rich And now as you read these poems -- you whose eyes and hands I love -- you whose mouth and eyes I love -- you whose words and minds I love -- don’t think I was trying to state a case or construct a scenery: I tried to listen to the public voice of our time tried to survey our public space as best I could -- tried to remember and stay faithful to details, note precisely how the air moved and where the clock’s hands stood and who was in charge of definitions and who stood by receiving them when the name of compassion was changed to the name of guilt when to feel with a human stranger was declared obsolete. 1994 from "Dark Fields of the Republic: Poems 1991 - 1995" (New York, NY: W.W. Norton, 1995)

The Eagle And The Hawk Words and Music by John Denver and Mike Taylor I am the eagle, I live in high country In rocky cathedrals that reach to the sky I am the hawk and there's blood on my feathers But time is still turning they soon will be dry And all those who see me and all who believe in me Share in the freedom I feel when I fly Come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops Sail o'er the canyons and up to the stars And reach for the heavens and hope for the future And all that we "can" be, not what we are Copyright 1971 by Cherry Lane Music "The Eagle and the Hawk" is from the album AERIE, 1971.  I have this album on vinyl, along with almost every other piece of vinyl John did. Yes, I was a fan back in the '70's and saw John perform in concert many times.   On the back cover there is also a definition of the word "aerie:"     aer-ie n (1) The nest of a bird of prey, as an eagle     or a hawk. (2). A lofty nest of any large bird. (3)     The brood in the nest; the young of a bird of prey     (4) an elevated habitation or situation. Also, aery,     eyrie, eyry. I think of this song of flying like an eagle to take oneself to that high state of consciousness.   John Denver is wearing a medallion from "Another Mother for Peace"......after all these years, we need peace more than ever.  Go to www.anothermother.org to order your own. In memory of John Denver - Dec 31, 1943 - Oct 12, 1997  In peace, Jules

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