So is still my favorite Peter Gabriel album...from the haunting Red Rain to the clever string of sexual metaphors woven to perfection to create Sledgehammer to the poignant Don't Give Up with Kate Bush (my favorite female songwriter, though she lends only her lovely voice here). Sidenote: Back in 1985 I was in love with the album Our Favourite Shop by The Style Council, which starts with the painful Homewreckers -- a song about economic depression, no work, no food, moving from place to place in search of such -- Don't Give Up took that to the next level and made a real impression on me at the time. I had been a fan of Gabriel's for years and owned his previous four albums (all confusingly self-titled) but So blew me away. My favorite tracks were (still are) Mercy Street (a tribute to poet Anne Sexton) and We Do What We're Told (sub. Milgram's 37, as in THE Milgram Experiment). I was suckered into buying a duplicate copy on cassette because of the bonus This is the Picture (Excellent Birds) c0-written/performed with Laurie Anderson, a progressive and insanely talented all-around artist and fellow Buddhist. Even though it rounded the album out perfectly, it wasn't included on vinyl. Go figure. That cassette I bought has long since worn out, but I have the song on my computer. Which leads me to the point of this post. You mean after just about going through this entire album, this post is about something else? Yes. I tend to ramble (sorry.) Well, but it is about Peter Gabriel or his lyrics that spoke to me today rather...
Because I wanted to hear the album including that last track, I listened to So in its entirety on my iTunes today while doing some online research. It played out and was followed by Gabriel's most underrated album, Us. I was mindlessly singing along with the first track (Come Talk to Me), not really thinking about it and the next thing I knew Love to be Loved started and struck a hard blow to my forehead. All of Us is fantastic, but this particular song is be-yond...I had forgotten about the gorgeousness, the depth, the self-discovery and evaluation. The desire and need to free oneself from unhealthy attachments, cravings, and longings while trying to preserve and embrace that which makes one human. All of these thoughts and emotions have been front and center for me for quite some time -- the past few months in particular. How I must accept and embrace things as they are now so that I can move forward, mindfully and deliberately, toward something more satisfying and healthy for me. For several months I've felt a slight ache in my heart caused by craving love that just is not meant to be for me at this time with anybody. And also a love unrequited. This time in my life is about letting it all go and just being happy in the moment. Being completely satisfied without that which I long for the most: someone to cook for, shower with love and affection, talk to late at night...and that feeling of being worth someone's time and attention. But at the same time I want to stay in touch with that love and desire that lets me know I'm alive. Does that make sense? Letting go of what I think happiness is and finding peace and true happiness as a choice in the here and now -- this is my one big goal for the 2009. So when that song came on, it was one of those kinds of moments where feelings were brought to the surface. Tears were shed. But not unhappy ones. I'm actually feeling very positive and hopeful. It's hard to explain, but I will share the song with you.
Love to be Loved - Peter Gabriel [click left to listen, click here to buy the brilliant album US]
On a lighter note, my other 2009 plans include volunteering for Habit for Humanity a couple of days per month, changing the oil in my poor car when I'm supposed to, and finally finishing the quilt I started making for my mother more than two years ago (ayeyeiyei.) I should also finish the quilt I started making for my niece Lexi before she was born -- except I've been blessed with two more nieces and one more nephew since starting that project, which opens a whole other box of pins if you know what I mean.
What are some of y'all's 2009 plans?
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Tantric Verse: Poetry from the tantric heart and spirit
(Verse inspired by the tantra path)
Here is my joy in this tantra
by 21st Dakini
Here is my joy in this tantra
Walking wide-eyed, shyly, childlike into this new and miraculous world
Seeing everything freshly, like the sun after summer rain
Everything the same as I used to remember it
Yet different like I'd never noticed it before
My body suddenly an exciting companion on this life's journey
Willing brave loyal adventurous delicious
fun eager bursting with life's lust
My mind shining, opening absorbing
My spirit dancing, playing, easy so easy
Letting it happen, watching it all happen...
Angry, wrathful, bouyant, raging, laughing,
sulking, embarrassed, confident, shy,
dancing, turning, twisting, falling, floating,
A child dancing in the wind,
A child dancing in the sun
A child dancing in the rain
I am freed,
I am holding hands & I am letting go
I am standing on solid ground and I am falling falling
Joyfully falling..... Fall with me, tumble in the air with me,
Touch fingertips as we pass, mingle, embrace, dissolve into me,
solidify and tumble away, be me & I be you for a while
Taste our otherness and our sameness.
This is my tantra love song, this is my hymn of joy
Oh revel in it with me my fellow beings
jump in with me, tremble and shiver with delight
All of us tumbling in ecstasy
All of us tumbling in space
All of us being
Saturday, December 27, 2008
It's the little things...
My being a Buddhist and my son an Agnostic does not keep us from enjoying the Christmas holiday the fullest. We define the Christmas spirit for ourselves. Plus I grew up with so many Christmas traditions that I enjoy so why not keep that up? We send Christmas cards to our Christian friends and family to show them we love them and respect their beliefs. We bake an assortment of cookies, both Italian (cheese, cherry chocolate chip, pine nut, wedding, fig) and American (peanut butter, oatmeal raisin.) We also make the moistest, most potent, mouth burningly delicious rum cake you'll ever eat (and that's always fun!) Then there's the wonderful smell of pine. I love Christmas trees. We got our beautiful tree from Delano Wilson, a local farmer who's been farming trees here for years and years. His trees provide habitat for wildlife and if you bring your tree back to him after the holidays, he'll recycle it for you. I also have to confess to liking loving Christmas music. I inherited my Grandpa's vinyl collection, which included about two dozen Christmas albums from the likes of Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby, the late Eartha Kitt and others (there was a Pat Boone in there that was immediately deposited into my box of stuff to take to the Goodwill because his whole career has been nothing but a listentomywhitebreadcoversbecausegollygeei'm morewholesomeandcleanthanthoseevil satanic(insertthen-wordinitspluralformhere) and now he's making a comeback by hating on gays for their "lifestyle choice"...yeah whatever, you ignorant tool.) So, anyway, I like listening to Christmas music on vinyl and baking and having friends over for board games and hot cocoa, the smell of pine, wrapping presents, making special gifts for the people I love and spending time with them over the holidays.
I also love all of the little things. Those things that always seem too insignificant compared to what is supposed to be really important over the holidays so we don't think too much of them. You know what I mean? I had many, many of those happenings this season. Here are a few of my favorites:
Cracking the code. My Mom's lemon-apricot cake. It was so moist and rich with just the right balance of sweet and tart...it was heaven. From the time I could speak in full sentences (and i did this early....seven months old I'm told) I'd beg for it every birthday, holiday, or just because. For some reason I never got the recipe from her when I moved out on my own and then in 1986 it was destroyed in a house fire. I've tried to recreate it at least 20 times in the past 10 years or so, each time getting closer and closer. December 23rd of this year, I finally did it! At first taste, I jumped up and down. Earl (my cat) looked at me like I had lost my mind. And maybe I did for a moment because, in my giddiness, I made another trip to the store for more ingredients and baked several more -- 20 mini-loaves total -- and gave them away to my neighbors and friends that stopped by. I saved two for me, of course.
Finding the unexpected. My new friend Basil. He's a plant (a basil plant as you may have guessed.) I found him at Kroger two days before Christmas for only $1.99 and why the heck they were selling herb plants this time of year I do not know. But I thought he was going to die so I brought him home and put him in a pot with some good quality soil. This way I can take him out for sun in the afternoon and bring him back in at night. Unfortunately, he hates his pot so far and has started to wilt. I hope I don't kill him.
Short cuts: Frozen bread dough. Italian dough cookies are a Christmas breakfast tradition in the Tedesco household. My dad made them for my sister Pamela and I. I now make them for my son (and anybody else who wants to stop by.) After the first rising, you pinch off small balls of dough and flatten them into rustic looking patties, fry them in light olive oil, then top with sugar and cinnamon (or whatever strikes your fancy.) They are chewy, yet melt in your mouth (drool..) The thing is that it involves making homemade bread dough -- something I actually derive great pleasure from doing (dough between my fingers makes me very happy) -- but baking an extra 20 loaves of cake cut into my time just a wee bit, so instead of making my own dough I bought a five-pack of frozen dough loaves. They worked beautifully. I honestly could not tell the difference between that and what I make from scratch, which may say something not good about my bread dough making abilities...
More short cuts. Lasagna. My recipe calls for 2 1/2 cups of Bechamel and 1 1/2 cups of Marinara -- both from scratch (you make them separately, then mix them together.) But, again, 20 mini lemon-apricot cakes...so instead I bought a pint size jar of each (Barilla brand) (had to substitute Alfredo for the Bechamel), pre-shredded Mozzarella and Parmesan, and frozen chopped spinach (instead of fresh.) And you know what? It was really good!!! Not as good as homemade (what is?), but I have a feeling this won't be the last time this easier version of Classic Italian Lasagna shows up with me to a party! It probably seems redundant to call lasagna Italian, but most restaurants serve an American version. How to tell the difference: if it has lots of onion, ground beef, chunky cottage cheese instead of creamy ricotta, and bright red sauce? American. (nothing wrong with that, but it's not as good :P)
Grammar geek entertainment. With the holiday season comes bonus "specials", "deals", "Merry" Christmas wishes in "every" color and a plethora of other Unnecessary quotation marks on signs, marquees and billboards everywhere. And y'all know how much joy stuff like that gives to dorks like me.
Holiday traffic. You can't go more than 10 MPH down Greenville Blvd. and traffic is bumper to bumper. Instead of giving myself a heart attack, I let people merge in front of me every chance I get and give them happy waves. This really pisses the folks off behind me, I'm sure, but I wouldn't know because I don't look at them. I don't want to spoil my fun.
Getting a Christmas card from my Aunt Oneida. I'm always appreciative of the cards I get and I save them all in little boxes labeled by year, but this one is particularly special because Oneida is 97 years old. She can barely manage to scribble only her name on the inside, but she sends her own cards still and I think that is amazing.
I found a nice suit for my son 50% off! Can you believe that?
Another amazing discovery -- Kyle (my son) has grown two inches in the last year! Apparently men sometimes grow well into their early twenties. He seemed taller, but I wasn't 100% sure. He now stands 6'2" and needs a42 44 Tall jacket [edited: we went this afternoon to exchange the jacket and it turns out he needed not one size larger but TWO...four if you include the odd numbers. 44 Long, unbelievable -- TF]. What happened to my little boy?
There's more, but this post is long enough. I'll just close by saying that this was a wonderful Christmas, full of opportunities to put things in perspective and revel in the little things.
I hope y'all had a good one too. If you'd like the cake or lasagna recipe, email me at tantraflower@hotmail.com.
I also love all of the little things. Those things that always seem too insignificant compared to what is supposed to be really important over the holidays so we don't think too much of them. You know what I mean? I had many, many of those happenings this season. Here are a few of my favorites:
Cracking the code. My Mom's lemon-apricot cake. It was so moist and rich with just the right balance of sweet and tart...it was heaven. From the time I could speak in full sentences (and i did this early....seven months old I'm told) I'd beg for it every birthday, holiday, or just because. For some reason I never got the recipe from her when I moved out on my own and then in 1986 it was destroyed in a house fire. I've tried to recreate it at least 20 times in the past 10 years or so, each time getting closer and closer. December 23rd of this year, I finally did it! At first taste, I jumped up and down. Earl (my cat) looked at me like I had lost my mind. And maybe I did for a moment because, in my giddiness, I made another trip to the store for more ingredients and baked several more -- 20 mini-loaves total -- and gave them away to my neighbors and friends that stopped by. I saved two for me, of course.
Finding the unexpected. My new friend Basil. He's a plant (a basil plant as you may have guessed.) I found him at Kroger two days before Christmas for only $1.99 and why the heck they were selling herb plants this time of year I do not know. But I thought he was going to die so I brought him home and put him in a pot with some good quality soil. This way I can take him out for sun in the afternoon and bring him back in at night. Unfortunately, he hates his pot so far and has started to wilt. I hope I don't kill him.
Short cuts: Frozen bread dough. Italian dough cookies are a Christmas breakfast tradition in the Tedesco household. My dad made them for my sister Pamela and I. I now make them for my son (and anybody else who wants to stop by.) After the first rising, you pinch off small balls of dough and flatten them into rustic looking patties, fry them in light olive oil, then top with sugar and cinnamon (or whatever strikes your fancy.) They are chewy, yet melt in your mouth (drool..) The thing is that it involves making homemade bread dough -- something I actually derive great pleasure from doing (dough between my fingers makes me very happy) -- but baking an extra 20 loaves of cake cut into my time just a wee bit, so instead of making my own dough I bought a five-pack of frozen dough loaves. They worked beautifully. I honestly could not tell the difference between that and what I make from scratch, which may say something not good about my bread dough making abilities...
More short cuts. Lasagna. My recipe calls for 2 1/2 cups of Bechamel and 1 1/2 cups of Marinara -- both from scratch (you make them separately, then mix them together.) But, again, 20 mini lemon-apricot cakes...so instead I bought a pint size jar of each (Barilla brand) (had to substitute Alfredo for the Bechamel), pre-shredded Mozzarella and Parmesan, and frozen chopped spinach (instead of fresh.) And you know what? It was really good!!! Not as good as homemade (what is?), but I have a feeling this won't be the last time this easier version of Classic Italian Lasagna shows up with me to a party! It probably seems redundant to call lasagna Italian, but most restaurants serve an American version. How to tell the difference: if it has lots of onion, ground beef, chunky cottage cheese instead of creamy ricotta, and bright red sauce? American. (nothing wrong with that, but it's not as good :P)
Grammar geek entertainment. With the holiday season comes bonus "specials", "deals", "Merry" Christmas wishes in "every" color and a plethora of other Unnecessary quotation marks on signs, marquees and billboards everywhere. And y'all know how much joy stuff like that gives to dorks like me.
Holiday traffic. You can't go more than 10 MPH down Greenville Blvd. and traffic is bumper to bumper. Instead of giving myself a heart attack, I let people merge in front of me every chance I get and give them happy waves. This really pisses the folks off behind me, I'm sure, but I wouldn't know because I don't look at them. I don't want to spoil my fun.
Getting a Christmas card from my Aunt Oneida. I'm always appreciative of the cards I get and I save them all in little boxes labeled by year, but this one is particularly special because Oneida is 97 years old. She can barely manage to scribble only her name on the inside, but she sends her own cards still and I think that is amazing.
I found a nice suit for my son 50% off! Can you believe that?
Another amazing discovery -- Kyle (my son) has grown two inches in the last year! Apparently men sometimes grow well into their early twenties. He seemed taller, but I wasn't 100% sure. He now stands 6'2" and needs a
There's more, but this post is long enough. I'll just close by saying that this was a wonderful Christmas, full of opportunities to put things in perspective and revel in the little things.
I hope y'all had a good one too. If you'd like the cake or lasagna recipe, email me at tantraflower@hotmail.com.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Welcome Hannah Grace
Born December 10, 2008 at 7:24 PM, EST.
6 pounds, 1 ounce.
When we told my niece Lexi that she was getting a new cousin she turned to my other niece Destiny, who is one year old, and said "I don't need you any more, Cousin, I'm getting a new cousin, OK." And she said it so matter of fact...as if she were relieving poor Destiny of her cousinly duties. She doesn't grasp the whole concept of a cousin, the hows and whys of it all. When we tell her that my son Kyle and sister Pam's son Joseph are also her cousins, she says "nuh uh. Only Cousin is my cousin." To her a cousin is a live female babydoll that she gets to help take care of, boss and drag around by the arm. That is until the live babydoll learns how to walk and RUN away then eventually starts to chase her relentlessly while hitting her in the back of the head with whatever object she can get her little hands on. Then I guess it's time to trade her in for a new model. heh heh
Happy Birthday to Hannah! She's absolutely beautiful, just like Candace. Her mouth is really big. Huge. Like Julia Roberts huge. And she's soft and sweet and pink and just beautiful and I love her soooooo much!!!
I hope to have pictures soon. And I really wish I had my own digital camera.
6 pounds, 1 ounce.
When we told my niece Lexi that she was getting a new cousin she turned to my other niece Destiny, who is one year old, and said "I don't need you any more, Cousin, I'm getting a new cousin, OK." And she said it so matter of fact...as if she were relieving poor Destiny of her cousinly duties. She doesn't grasp the whole concept of a cousin, the hows and whys of it all. When we tell her that my son Kyle and sister Pam's son Joseph are also her cousins, she says "nuh uh. Only Cousin is my cousin." To her a cousin is a live female babydoll that she gets to help take care of, boss and drag around by the arm. That is until the live babydoll learns how to walk and RUN away then eventually starts to chase her relentlessly while hitting her in the back of the head with whatever object she can get her little hands on. Then I guess it's time to trade her in for a new model. heh heh
Happy Birthday to Hannah! She's absolutely beautiful, just like Candace. Her mouth is really big. Huge. Like Julia Roberts huge. And she's soft and sweet and pink and just beautiful and I love her soooooo much!!!
I hope to have pictures soon. And I really wish I had my own digital camera.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Happy Birthday, Kyle!!!
At exactly 8:05 this morning, my son Kyle, aka Kyle Smile, Kyle E. Woyote (boy genius), My Sunshine/Sunshine Boy, turned 21 years old!
I don't have any newborn pictures of him on my computer, but here he is at 2. Soooo precious!!!
I have exactly 3 minutes to brag, not near enough time to come close to expressing how proud I am of him and please don't expect much in the way of punctuation, spelling, or making much sense. Thanks.
Authentic, tolerant, kind, honest, compassionate, forgiving, gracious, wise, low-maintenance, unpretentious, unassuming, curious, intelligent, geeky, generous, FUNNY, creative, artistic, philosophical, pragmatic, concerned, loving -- My Son! How blessed (and proud) am I? Not to mention floored and relieved!
I was a young mother, single, naive (dangerously close to ignorant), self-absorbed, callous, and a host of 1,000 other very negative traits that I never gave a minute consideration to until the moment the nurse helped me cradle his bloody 8lb8oz body to my breast. In one instant I knew that I could no longer live ignorantly by default. I instantly loved him, but knew that loving him wasn't going to be enough. I was now completely responsible for this life, I had to set a good example, I had to be a teacher. Everything depended on me and I honestly didn't think I could do it. And I started to bawl tears of fear disguised as happiness. That night, alone in my hospital room, I actually prayed for the first time since I was a little girl. "Please God, I need to learn what to do. How do I do this? How do I help him have the courage and confidence to stay true to himself? How do I help him love himself just as he is? How do I be a good mother?"
The answers didn't come right away. I tried my best. Through nature or nurture, somehow Kyle had this wonderful gift of strength and insight to see himself through my weaker moments, and there were plenty. But I kept trying. I had to and I wanted to because I love him so much. You haven't lived until you have known the power and joy of true unconditional love. It's as if I was also born on that December 4th morning, 21 years ago. And how do you even begin to thank a person for giving you your life like that?
Now hell would freeze before Kyle ever has the address to this blog (and that's a good thing) so he won't see this post, but I just wanted to say publicly how grateful I am and how truly honored and humbled I feel to have received such a blessing in my life. And I will be doting on him today and of course retelling the story of his birth in front of family and friends this evening and he will hate me for it but know he is loved.
Happy 21st Birthday!
I don't have any newborn pictures of him on my computer, but here he is at 2. Soooo precious!!!I have exactly 3 minutes to brag, not near enough time to come close to expressing how proud I am of him and please don't expect much in the way of punctuation, spelling, or making much sense. Thanks.
Authentic, tolerant, kind, honest, compassionate, forgiving, gracious, wise, low-maintenance, unpretentious, unassuming, curious, intelligent, geeky, generous, FUNNY, creative, artistic, philosophical, pragmatic, concerned, loving -- My Son! How blessed (and proud) am I? Not to mention floored and relieved!
I was a young mother, single, naive (dangerously close to ignorant), self-absorbed, callous, and a host of 1,000 other very negative traits that I never gave a minute consideration to until the moment the nurse helped me cradle his bloody 8lb8oz body to my breast. In one instant I knew that I could no longer live ignorantly by default. I instantly loved him, but knew that loving him wasn't going to be enough. I was now completely responsible for this life, I had to set a good example, I had to be a teacher. Everything depended on me and I honestly didn't think I could do it. And I started to bawl tears of fear disguised as happiness. That night, alone in my hospital room, I actually prayed for the first time since I was a little girl. "Please God, I need to learn what to do. How do I do this? How do I help him have the courage and confidence to stay true to himself? How do I help him love himself just as he is? How do I be a good mother?"
The answers didn't come right away. I tried my best. Through nature or nurture, somehow Kyle had this wonderful gift of strength and insight to see himself through my weaker moments, and there were plenty. But I kept trying. I had to and I wanted to because I love him so much. You haven't lived until you have known the power and joy of true unconditional love. It's as if I was also born on that December 4th morning, 21 years ago. And how do you even begin to thank a person for giving you your life like that?
Now hell would freeze before Kyle ever has the address to this blog (and that's a good thing) so he won't see this post, but I just wanted to say publicly how grateful I am and how truly honored and humbled I feel to have received such a blessing in my life. And I will be doting on him today and of course retelling the story of his birth in front of family and friends this evening and he will hate me for it but know he is loved.
Happy 21st Birthday!
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