Smitten

When was the last time you were smitten?

My journey today with that word began when the capable moderator of a writer's workshop passed around an essay on reading by Vladimir Nabokov as a prelude to a stunning Billy Collins poem entitled Books, which she then distributed and read to us. Though I was familiar with the poem, it floored me anew. You would be right in saying I was smitten, although the word did not occur to me that moment. 

No matter. Because with Nabokov's wisdom and Collins's majesty still igniting me, the moderator then asked us to highlight words, phrases, or sentences from the poem to help us with some prompts she was about to give. Among others, the sentence Collins used to start stanza #3 in Books mentioning the voice of his mother had hit me hard on this re-read. Then, one of the prompts the moderator offered was for us to write about when we'd first been smitten by books. Now I was on fire. I was smitten by the exact verb our moderator had used, effortlessly connecting early memories of my mother and books. 

In addition, the word smitten brought to mind widely quoted advice Nabokov gave to aspiring writers about aiming for verbs that "...caress..." My brief response to the prompt, borrowing one word and one phrase from this remarkable poem, was midwifed by the caressing verb suggested by our moderator. I'm grateful for moments like this when cherished memories and words I write are fused.   

"My mother's voice was the music accompanying my introduction to books. She was the conductor; she was the score; she was the choir and the musicians. I can never repay the debt I owe her for the chords of language I've heard all my life."

Today's Thank You & Belated Acknowledgment

My mother was fond of saying you can never say thank you to others too many times, something I've tried to remember and do regularly ever since.  

Today, I want to thank folks who comment on the posts I select for the featured post widget located on the left side of my blog's home page. The boost I get whenever someone does this lingers for hours. Please know that I always reply to your comments, no matter how old the post is. Blogger makes doing so easy because all comments appear in the order in which they are made, irrespective of the date the original post was published. And solipsistic as it may be, part of that boost is connected to re-reading whatever it is I've resurrected from my archives so I can respond appropriately. Sometimes, it can be a little like visiting a younger version of myself. 

Re-visiting these older posts when someone makes a new comment also gives me an opportunity to re-read any comments that were made when the post first appeared. Coming across a frequent early commenter who has since stopped doing so, for whatever reason, can bring that person back into my life, at least briefly. In addition, as with the comment made by my daughter to the post at the bottom of this one, it's not uncommon for me to be struck anew by some insight from a reader. In this case, I realized in retrospect how my emotionally intelligent daughter - all of twenty-two years old at the time - had helped her old man navigate a thorny issue that had plagued him for some time. 

Sweetheart: Consider this a belated acknowledgment of your precocious wisdom, especially since I neglected to thank you or even to respond to your comment back in 2011. Mea culpa.  

Reflections From The Bell Curve: Repelling Toxic People

Recent Musical Highlights

Can't recall when I most recently had a week as musically satisfying and diverse as the one that ended about an hour ago. In reverse order, chronologically and with respect to both my degree of enjoyment and the notoriety of the musicians involved:

1.) Although I wasn't as surprised by Diana Krall's choice of material this second time seeing her, her re-working of Great American songbook standards in tonight's show was musically thrilling. Peak moments included her arrangement of All of Me for her trio, a mournful solo rendition of In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning, and the encore, a straightforward, moving version of the Brian Wilson classic In My Room. 

Reflections From The Bell Curve: Thanks For The Surprises, Diana

2.) On Wednesday, thanks to a tip from a friend, I was newly exposed to Marel Hidalgo, a ludicrously gifted teenage jazz guitarist. His live show - with a talented trio supporting him - featured two generous sets, the first showcasing the music of jazz giant Horace Silver, the second a vibrant reggae-flavored mix with original music and imaginative interpretations of a few jazz standards. Check out Hidalgo's reel via the YouTube link directly below.

Solo Jazz Guitar-15-yr old Marel Hidalgo

3.) Two nights before that, I attended an open jazz jam session, something I've been doing on and off for a while. After one song, feeling moderately pleased with what I'd played, I left the bandstand. Then I spent the next 90 minutes listening to this music I've come to revere, enjoying most of what I heard, including the work of two other guitarists. I tried not to compare my playing to theirs and was partially successful. Despite my lapse, in the end, I was pleased that I put myself out there, again.

What have been some recent musical highlights of yours?   

Help Me Keep This Buzz, Please

Playground (2024) will elevate you as a thinker while enchanting you as a reader. It might confuse you; it will definitely challenge you. If you've read or end up reading this most recent novel by the astonishing Richard Powers, please remember to contact me either here or offline. I desperately want to retain the glow of this extraordinary - if at times frustrating - reading experience for as long as possible. And I really want to hear your take on the mind-blowing conclusion, perhaps the most imaginative ending of any book I've read in two decades.  

My journey with this remarkable book was not a wholly smooth one. Because both of the trusted readers in my life who finished it before me - my wife and the reading soulmate who first recommended it to me soon after its release - told me simply that it was another home run by Powers, through the first 200+ pages, I was innocently captivated. As he did with both Echo Maker & Bewilderment, Powers grabbed me immediately with his undeniable storytelling gift, expertly balancing human dynamics with the miraculous mysteries of the natural world. As with The Overstory, I was dazzled by his staggering prose and masterful toggling of first and third person voices. But then the foreshadowing curveballs - make that screwballs - began to upset my reading equilibrium. Not enough to extract me from the compelling story but, my unanswered questions began accumulating. Playground demands any reader's full engagement.   

I'll spare you the details of my childish temper tantrum as I finished mid-day this past Sunday and tell you that all I could manage at that point was a visit to the gym to cool down. Later, two conversations with my wife helped me come to peace with the stunning denouement of this treasure. Still not able to let go, I scheduled a coffee meeting for early today to further digest Playground with that reading soulmate who'd first recommended it to me. That helped some more. But I'm far from sated. That's where I hope some of you enter the picture. Please: Help me keep this buzz, will you?  

Final note: Though tempted to write a post about some of the other novels I finished since publishing the post directly below on June 8, now I'm glad I waited until I read Playground. 

Reflections From The Bell Curve: The Line of Beauty

You're One Click Away from Musical Rapture

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAZ1nfuluz0&list=RDJAZ1nfuluz0&start_radio=1

I am so fortunate to have dear friends who direct me to musical treasures like the performance above. I promise this will be the best five minutes you spend today. I defy you to stay unmoved watching it.

Coming soon: A re-construction of iteration #59 in my Mt. Rushmore Series. Thanks Ruth.  

Reflections From The Bell Curve: #59: The Mt. Rushmore Series

The Elusiveness of Clarity

Some days, things get clear for me. I feel like I understand myself and have less trouble accepting my flaws.  Music is cleansing; food tastes better; I'm more focused. In between those days, clarity is an elusive quality for me. How about for you?

I'm not unhappy or angry on those in between days. But I come across a little less grateful and patient, so invariably people close to me will ask if I am, in fact, unhappy or angry. And though some would call this my "mood", that strikes me as an oversimplification. Today I don't feel at all in a bad mood. I feel pretty good, well rested and happy with the interactions I've had so far. But I'm not feeling particularly clear.

One of the benefits of being committed to keeping a journal is I have learned to wait out days like today, knowing a day of clarity is not far off.  On the infrequent occasions when I indulge myself and read a few successive entries in old journals, I can sometimes detect an ebb and flow i.e., days like today vs. days of clarity. Still, I've not been successful in discovering what triggers those days of clarity or how to predict when they will occur. As always, I'm curious what you have learned about this elusive quality. 

Plateau, Schmateau

When did you most recently feel stuck? How did you dislodge yourself?

How many expressions do you suppose there are for those times when we hit a wall of any kind? And what is the link between feeling stuck or hitting a wall and locating the needed motivation to get out of our own way? Have you ever known anyone who has escaped this human dilemma, no matter what it's called - running out of steam, trouble locating the mojo, being dried up, whatever? If you know such a person, would you introduce me, right away? In the meanwhile, nomenclature aside, what is your go-to strategy when this plagues you?  

Although it usually pleases me when any reader finds value in the suggestions made by other readers to questions I pose here, I'm feeling less generous today. I'm not looking for a magic bullet - per se - but given my current stasis, my awareness about the predictability of plateaus we all experience in life from time to time is not real useful to me. I want a practical strategy - preferably one I can implement the moment I read your comment - to help me jump-start the engine, get the juices flowing, unclog the pipes, etc. These past few days, my usual stuff - exercise, meditation, reading, playing guitar - has not gotten me off the starting block. 

I guess right now I'd welcome the flexibility to be able to kick my own ass.

Putting Siri Back in the Bottle

Isn't it a near certainty that our lives are headed toward more dependence on technology? What is your guess of the impact of that increased dependence on the following: Attention deficit disorder? Listening skills? Critical thinking? 

The data I'm seeing does not fill me with hope. In addition, my regular interaction with others dismays me increasingly. I've had conversations with friends who acknowledge a connection between their diminished attention span and cell phone use. I've also witnessed - as I'm sure you have - many of the impediments technology helps to create with respect to listening and conversation, a phenomenon Sherry Turkle expertly explored in her still startling book Reclaiming Conversation (2015). I'm alarmed by the rising rate of adolescent suicide, a trend many researchers attribute to the pernicious effect of ubiquitous social media. The implications of AI - especially in the creative domain - terrify me.  

That said, my inadequate solution of near abstinence is complicated. First, it frequently puts me at odds with people, including loved ones. And in what is best described as an Uber-disconnect, I'm a blogger, for crying out loud.

Still, disconnect aside, despite my obstinate resistance to most technology, I'm neither advocating for a return to the horse-and-buggy era nor am I oblivious to the benefits technology has delivered. But I am deeply concerned where we are headed. Consequently, I'd sincerely welcome hearing from you. What are some practical strategies all of us can begin using to assist in putting Siri, Alexa, et al back in the bottle, at least from time-to-time?

Reflections From The Bell Curve: The Choir And The Monkey