Do not go gentle into that good night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

June 25th, 2017

Smaller bites

Feed them if you must, but tread carefully! Feeding turtles in the mouth is a very bad idea…

It isn’t clearly visible in the photo (low resolution), but there is quite a lot of blood dripping from the man’s finger; he’s just been bitten by the turtle who -surprise- mistook it for food. Totally unintentional but no less painful! 

The man didn’t seem to mind too much but I silently hoped, for his sake, that he would look into some tetanus shots possibilities…

Adventures @ The Turtle Pond, Central Park

June 24th, 2017

In the presence of the words that were spoken I began to hear the music – Philip Glass

We were there too, with a couple of hundred more admirers, sharing the same space with one of the most important musical minds of the century – and the century before, enjoying a casual conversation about his life, friends, lineage [”covers a lot of things… but the important thing about lineage is the connectiveness”], lessons learned from his father, Ben, like mental chess or, the most important of them all, how to listen

[”Father had a record store…”][”…After a whole day in a music store he went home and listened to music. If he had records in the store and couldn’t sell them, he wanted to see what’s wrong with them. So he brought them home and listened to them. His idea was, if he could find out what’s wrong with them he could buy the right records… Pieces he brought home were mostly modern pieces; it could be Shostakovich… Bartók, and he would listen to them over and over… he became kind of expert on modern music… and his little store in Baltimore became the place to go when you were looking for modern music…”]Paul: ”I love the story of John Cage saying to you: ”It’s good… But there are too many notes!”
Philip: ”No, he never said it was good…! Don’t make it better than it was!” ”He said:  ”Philip…. Too many notes!” And I said: ”John, I’m one of your children whether you like it or not…”Thoughts, pauses, reflections, life fragments, anecdotes, friends; his epic Einstein on the Beach; the inspiration he took from Rothko’s vision; his creative combination of live performance with film in La Belle et la Bêtehis memories of Moondog, the mighty Viking of 6th Avenue… the fact that he worked as a plumber and, more adventurously, as a taxi driver to fund his music. [”At some point, I began to ask myself where did the music come from; then, I decided to write music because it would be a way to learn where it came from. But it turned out not to be true… I spent the rest of my life trying to answer that question… and I still can’t…”]

Paul Holdengräber, founder and director of Live from the NYPL talk series, was the host.

Philip Glass | A Mind of Music, NYPL

June 15th, 2017

Reminiscing

About last summer

The A train brought us to the beach in 1 hour and 15 minutes from 42nd St. Port Authority. I thought this must be the longest subway line in the City – and it is! It actually stretches all the way from 207th St. in Northern Manhattan to Far Rockaway, in Queens. A 2 hour and 15 minutes trip – on a subway train! Isn’t this amazing?

We won’t be doing it again, though. While the trip to the beach was fairly smooth for NYC Subway standards, on the way back we found ourselves tightly squeezed (read: trapped) among groups of hopelessly loud teenagers high on creative cocktails of soft drugs, alcohol and, well, life. That’s totally fine, of course, as long as we can keep at a safe distance and save our unacquainted ears from the hazardous effects of such extreme noise exposure levels.

Next time, we’ll take the ferry.

June 11th, 2017 – A Sunday afternoon in Rockaway Beach