Winter is so ON all of the sudden. If you're in the Northeast- stateside-you feel me right now;this i know.
i'm trying to finish this album,be a mama/homemaker(what?!), stay sane, support my health inward and out and not spend hours listening/looking for music on this beautiful but cursed contraption. as of this moment, i don't have the luxury of time, so i cannot browse in the reco' sto' which is the choice option of music browsing , in my eyes( one time for old school music purchasing!) my "devices" allow me the virtual browsing that the first option does not, and i see why my kids need to go to youtube rehab with doctor drew. i just had a hit this morning, as a matter of fact. a couple of weeks back, i directed my eldest to the afro punk website and we fell head over heels for, Ready to Move, by The Thirst. she said she thinks mensa is cute, to which i laughed and agreed with while making a "note to self" not to take let her go to any of their shows for another three years. I'm often asked what I'm listening to, so i thought i'd compile the stuff i'm actually hearing today, as i get the groceries for the week,though, trader joe's in store radio be rockin' it, sometimes.

Today's ear candy:
ready to move- the thirst
kwa nqingetje- blk jks
my step- little dragon
twice- little dragon ( i heart yukimi)
nuspirit helsinki- no quarter
boomclap bachelors- forar til december
kisses-raz ohara and the odd orchestra
de wiz- georgia ann muldrow
whole wide world-declaime featuring flying lotus and pattie bling
testin' me- dudley perkins
may this be love- limi hendrix ( this happens to be my ringtone,yes child:-))
blue jay-owusufox-owusu and Hannibal
le fox-owusu and hannibal ( i don't think many days go by when i don't listen to this song)
i'll be your man-the black keys
breaks-the black keys
thickfreakness-the black keys
walkin' down the line-odetta
cool water-odetta
if i had a ribbon bow-odetta (my mama sang her songs as lullabies to me)
BYS-gang starr
you know my steez-gang starr
skills-gang starr
still lives through-little brother


did i mention to you guys about the Barkley Hendricks exhibit at the Pennsylvania academy of fine arts? my mom was on a panel with mr hendricks- and the equally brilliant, Randy Weston-called the evolution of cool, so i got a bit spoiled, enjoying these gorgeous works of art in person as well as seeing these three artists whom i so deeply respect. if you can get to philly soon, go go GOOOOOOO! or find out where next the exhibit will be housed. i cant believe how moving it was to experience these creations in the flesh. also, mr. Hendricks said he hadn't seen many of the canvases since he'd sold them, as most of them are on loan by the folks who have the good fortune of owning these beauties. my mom did her thing, and we are tough critics with each other, just in case you thought i was being biased or something:-)

can i also profess my utter adoration for Arise magazine? my plan is to one day create a collage using all the freakin' RAD fashion shoots and make my daughters put it on their wall. that's $11.95 well spent!

it's obviously imperative to my mental health and my artistic appetite to feed myself with art as inspiration. it informs and uplifts me, time and time again. there's a famous photo of me as a toddler, hands pressed against museum glass, a look of pure focus and fascination in my eyes. you can still find that look in my eyes, sans the glass, and i'd never fondle a canvas, though i've thought about it:-)


get warm if you're chilly. cool down if you're hot. it's all "right now",really. this is the one shot.

(i think that closet- mc -thingy i've mentioned in previous posts is really becoming an issue for me. i'ma hafta work it out.)

strength,
mellie

and my head nods to their tight sound,
I come to you on this off-day,
with a licka bit word play,
though you surely are not there,
cuz hopefully, you are elsewhere,
in a space cares are slim,
and faces grin,
with friends and fam in house,
and foods of labor entering mouths,
and don't we all need to see shine and feathers swirl
on a dancing brown girl
upon the parkway east
the eyes and ears can feast
or waves lapping at toes
and salt spray tickling nose
and as she sings," a test,a test",
I want for us no more stress,
its why some of we are dying,
quietly
when hearts are meant for flying,
baby,that's why I sing the songs,
don't you know,
to them and you I just might belong,
and I'll be bringin some of them your way,
my people round chocolate city and VA,
come dressed to chill,
smiles pon your grill,
bring a lil extra cuz ur plate ur gona wana fill,
and I'll be singing and you'll be singing and we'll be singing our blues
away
our blues away
singing in a better day
and maybe it all just might be ok
Well....that's what I wish for us, anyway

See you sooooooon,babybirds!!!
Luv,
mellie

When we are children, any old thing lying around, that is no longer of use to someone else, has the potential to become something, in our tiny, uninhibited, willing hands. Plastic bags become jump ropes. Cardboard boxes- after getting a good overhaulin’ with a juicy, box of magic markers- take their rightful position as secret clubhouses.  Everyone KNOWS, egg cartons are just begging to be mobiles. Our plans for that Popsicle stick were already realized before we had even bitten into the orange, vanilla creaminess in which it was embedded. Then reality aka social structure, creeps up with the stealth of a navy seal, and suddenly there is homework, after school jobs, household and family responsibilities, more homework and studying, weekend and summer jobs, college, full time jobs, children, retirement plans, old age and passing on. Lord only knows how many shoe boxes I’ve held on to, only to fill it with junk I don’t need or use, eventually- and ironically-disposing of the box and not its contents. I betcha all those hundreds of shoe boxes coulda made a great, mid-century modern style, wall unit, stacked by length and width for visual interest, maybe painted a soft, summertime, after-a-light-rain gray, with a shiny, shellacked finish.

These ponderings seem to be reserved for childhood, but they don’t have to and definitely aren’t supposed to be. I was reminded of my ability to think and do in this fashion by a series of elegant, hanging straw sculptures displayed from the ceiling of an artist’s living/working space. Spray painted silver, the simplicity of these, overlooked, plastic objects took on a completely new identity, fooling me, until it was revealed what they really were, proceeding to evoke within me a delightful feeling of surprise. This was followed by the revealing of the origins of most of the pieces surrounding us as thrown away or found objects-often seen as useless- now, whimsical works of art. This resourcefulness is what we humans have practiced for centuries. I think the ability and desire to create and be resourceful is inherent in every one of us. It is simply dulled by things OUTSIDE of us. I would never argue the fact that necessity makes it harder and harder to allocate the time it might take to do these sorts of projects.  Isn’t it interesting though, that this same necessity is actually forcing us to? When our parents could not afford something, didn’t they make something out of nothing? Everything becomes complicated when we buy into it. It’s being SOLD to us, of course. “It” being an existence dedicated to getting more things that fill our hearts with momentary joy and our landfills with eternal clutter. It hurts my heart to see the rate that consumerism has completely and utterly consumed our culture. There has to be a happy medium. I am guilty of wanting things, but the funny thing is, once I have it, I always find the need for more. I give my kids a sweet, for instance, and if I kept offering, they would keep eating until they became sick. That is because sweets are yummy! Nevertheless, so is a bowl of steamed greens drizzled with olive oil, lemon and gomasio. A perfect example is a very pricey wedding. Honestly, what does it add to the years that follow besides debt? Even the wealthiest couple cannot attribute their happiest moments to the 20k dress. The wedding planner’s most elaborate plans cannot stop a spouse from cheating, know what I’m sayin’? Though I’ve had not had to endure the very real, heartache caused by infidelity, my personal experience with my wedding day gives me a little bit of license to speak this way. Indulge me for a moment:
I ordered my, one-of-a-kind wedding outfit from a shop in New York City’s little India, the day before my wedding, for 125 dollars. Besides laru and I and the man who married us, our only guests were the five people closest to us, at the time. We all went to dinner at our favorite restaurant and my parents treated us to one night in a hotel in the city. With no honeymoon on the near horizon, we awoke the next morning, with nothing to do but start sharing a life together, precisely the point of our decision to marry. Fast forward fifteen years later (though it literally feels like yesterday), still committed to each other, I am quite sure it has little to do with the flavor of our cake. We did not have a cake, anyway. I’m only using weddings as an example. There’s obviously nothing wrong with a big, dreamy event, if it is what you actually WANT.  I’m guessing a great part of our decisions are already made for us by a societal influence that doesn’t give a flying hoot what happens to us in the aftermath. I could have used the example of buying a house, having kids, owning certain status “things”. We’ve all been there; I know I have.  I’m just trying to rethink the stuff that’s served to me on my beautiful, flat screen TV-which I adore, by the way- and own my destiny instead of it owning me.

We sometimes think of having a vow renewal ceremony, but really only as an excuse to have a party with a great dj and a bunch of guests who will dance the night away. 

 I am dying to learn more moderation. We don’t want to kill the economy, but we can’t let it kill us. We could start by finding some balance. Maybe, everybody reading this could attempt one, homemade project, using something that was functioning as something else or was otherwise useless. Just see if it’s possible for you to set aside some otherwise, leisure time.  I am going to cut up all our old, stained t-shirts so they can be used as household cleaning rags. Shoot: that is something you can do while watching bridezillaz!  In addition, I am in no way condemning any one’s lifestyle choices. It wouldn’t be interesting if we were all exactly the same. How would we learn anything? I am just genuinely, wanting to offer up my musings as others have done for me and continue the cycle of sharing.


Okay, San Francisco and New York City: you spoiled me! Yoshi’s was a gorgeous enough venue to begin with, but when you filled it with your gorgeous selves for all of those sets, and got outta your seats ,and –triple gasp- brought ALL those delicious children to the matinee and let me sing to them and faun all over them afterwards, you turned that joint into a palace of joy☺ I hope it doesn’t take that long to come back. A big thanks to all those who travel long distances for the shows. I can never get over that kind of dedication. I also wanna give a shout out to Ame – a magical acupuncturist I had the good fortune to work with at Kobuki Springs- for the best two session I’ve ever had, to date. If you live in the area, or will be visiting, she comes highly recommended by yours truly.

Then, the Greene Space and members of the Blisslife family, surprising me by coming out, warming the environment with your familiar smiles, and encouraging sounds. You are the prefabricated house to my empty piece of land☺ I send big thanks to any and all who came to that performance. I am TOUCHED at how lovingly you all embrace Sky. It is so fine of you.


On my way to Charlotte- my first time there, I think- the songs are fresh on my mind, the melodies, still upon my tongue. I hope it’ll be a good night for all.



An enormous squeeze of appreciation to you-

melle 

The rain, here, where I am, seems more beautiful than ever before because you guys gave me a little-no a lotta light and I been letting it shine! I am still on a humble high from the night of April 30 -humble because I cant ever really believe the extent of which I am being honored, but I gladly welcome it! And oh, the honor you bestow upon me; it just gets more and more unbelievable with every show. I wasn't expecting anything from you guys, and flowers and cupcakes were already a complete and utter surprise, but the orange glow sticks? Put it this way: I was working so diligently at giving you the best, possible premiere of orange glow, I didn't even register the glow sticks as anything out of the ordinary, let alone a surprise for moi. It could have been a ploy by the venue to spice things up, for all I knew. It wasn't until after the show, in my dressing room, when one of you asked what I thought of the glow stick surprise, that I became aware of your monumental gesture. I felt like a total dip squat, but I was a moved dip squat! So xoxoxoxox to you all for making Thursday feel like march 8th, all over again:-) 

But, no: you don't stop at that. What you've assembled and displayed on the Internet is just.... like whoa! What you've done on my facebook page is just such a lovely gesture, you guys. Really- the photos and video clips and messages of approval are too, too much! I know there are very positive blogs about the show, as well, and I need to thank you all as this is precisely what helps us, independent artists to keep our day jobs:-)The folks that are exposed to all this word-of-mouthing may just decide to became a future supporter and show-goer. It's a big deal to me, that you'd take time out of your life to write a kind review. Your thoughtfulness and love serve as an invisible shove towards the completion of the best possible album I can provide. 

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

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…. He asked me, an inquisitive smile upon his face. It stopped me in my tracks. At first, I could not grasp the concept, at all. What do you mean, two days, anywhere, doing anything, no concerns? The idea of additional thinking burdened my already packed head. It called for decision making- an ever present, unwelcome process inhabiting my mind as a parent. That’s not even including those pesky, work related decisions; you know the ones. “Why are you doing this to me? I don’t have the luxury of spending time thinking about something that isn’t gonna happen!”, I screamed (not out loud, of course). Instead, I opted for a whiny, “ aw, come on. I don’t know; I can’t think now.” it dawned on me that, getting ticked off about having to come up with a dream getaway was a bit cynical. Besides, he was not going to leave it alone until he got his answer. Reluctantly, I stopped washing dishes (not to excuse my behavior or anything but, I don’t tend to be very acquiescing when doing household maintenance) and got quiet with my thoughts. I don’t wanna just say it to be saying it, I thought. I am actually curious as to what I would do with those days. Lucky for me, it came just when I was getting stressed out about not being able to tap into my innermost desires. I said it with a certainty and assuredness I do not normally display when answering questions. Gone were the, “ uh’s” and “ummm’s”. the words flowed like the threaded stitch of a brand, new singer. “  I would go to a yoga retreat on an island and have massages and eat clean, vegetarian food.” It felt damned good to be so resolute! I beamed, as if my bags were already in the car. The whole procedure was mentally and physically invigorating, and I was sure this was encouraged by visions of well-trained hands at my disposal and beachside asanas. Yet, I believe my newfound conviction had more to do with having ample time to search for what I really wanted, locate it and say it, out in the open. The experience of going from annoyed and maybe even scared to content and confident was healthy and totally necessary to my evolution as thinking individual. How else can one develop one’s true “self” without this allowance? And yet, I was bothered to have to come up with what I wanted. Was I afraid of not knowing what I wanted? Maybe it was the fear of facing what I really wanted. For all of the, nobody’s-getting-in-the-way-of-my-dreams, i-know-what-i-wanter’s in the world, there are thousands more, how-did-I-end-up-here, i-don’t-know-what-i-wanter’s, in a self imposed oblivion. Yes, honey: a state of willing unconsciousness. I’ve been all up in that space, and it took some uncomfortable events to get me to excuse exit and myself. It is easy to stay there, though, distracting yourself with things and things and more things. And then you’re shrouded in all of these things- “success”, “power”, “financial stability”, “the perfect pair of jeans”-that you stop looking or stop seeing because it isn’t even your vision anymore and your wearing someone else’s clothing. I want to make myself clear: the living-for-myself-and-my-needs-only lifestyle so prevalent in American culture is the extreme version. Its a selfish, soulless journey and what is possibly at the root of our recession and general disinterest in humanitarian work and community service, the latter of which our president asked of us to get back to doing. I guess I just hate the idea of some lovely, deserving person, withering away under the cloak of our society’s views. As a parent, I do not EVER want my beliefs, choices or desires to define those of my offspring. For example, I have no preference and –truthfully- no good guess as to what profession they will choose, though I am often asked what I think they will become. I do know that it would break my heart if they based a major, life decision on whether or not it would please me. Even now, as young as they are, it pains me if it seems as though that is taking place. Okay: maybe not when it comes to junk food versus healthy stuff or honoring your bedtime so you can actually make your bus.  


 


 


I just wanna mention a rad organization and website brought to my attention by a lovely woman who is doing some work for them. It’s called charity: water and the site is www.charitywater.org. Take a look for yourself and you are sure to be riveted. My kids and I stayed on there for over an hour, looking at footage and reading text. Their mission is to bring water-by way of drilling wells- to communities whose main drinking sources aren’t suitable for your pet to drink. The story behind how its founder got into this line of work is totally fly.  I’m hoping to work with them in any capacity. 


 


Lastly, thanks again for being so positive about the new material. The joy I get out of writing and performing it is heightened by your approving responses. There’s this itch in me to make this an “up” album. My youth was gilded with these gems- off the wall, thriller, I am, innervisions, legend, life is a dance, done by the forces of nature…I could go on ,and you know this! You know, I’m just reaching in the direction of those joints.  It would be like winning the lottery if I recorded an album you could throw on and allow you to feel all-in-your-gut good, from start to finish. I’m reaching, baby!


 


 


So, so, so…. I will be looking for ya’ll on April 30 at BB Kings in the NYC. Come with your kids, family, and friends, ready to hoot holla and sing and –for goodness sake- DANCE! (I got so excited there, I almost said bring a tambourine, but I think that might be going overboard, no?)   


Amel 

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If you had two days and no worries..


…. He asked me, an inquisitive smile upon his face. It stopped me in my tracks. At first, I could not grasp the concept, at all. What do you mean, two days, anywhere, doing anything, no concerns? The idea of additional thinking burdened my already packed head. It called for decision making- an ever present, unwelcome process inhabiting my mind as a parent. That’s not even including those pesky, work related decisions; you know the ones. “Why are you doing this to me? I don’t have the luxury of spending time thinking about something that isn’t gonna happen!”, I screamed (not out loud, of course). Instead, I opted for a whiny, “ aw, come on. I don’t know; I can’t think now.” it dawned on me that, getting ticked off about having to come up with a dream getaway was a bit cynical. Besides, he was not going to leave it alone until he got his answer. Reluctantly, I stopped washing dishes (not to excuse my behavior or anything but, I don’t tend to be very acquiescing when doing household maintenance) and got quiet with my thoughts. I don’t wanna just say it to be saying it, I thought. I am actually curious as to what I would do with those days. Lucky for me, it came just when I was getting stressed out about not being able to tap into my innermost desires. I said it with a certainty and assuredness I do not normally display when answering questions. Gone were the, “ uh’s” and “ummm’s”. the words flowed like the threaded stitch of a brand, new singer. “  I would go to a yoga retreat on an island and have massages and eat clean, vegetarian food.” It felt damned good to be so resolute! I beamed, as if my bags were already in the car. The whole procedure was mentally and physically invigorating, and I was sure this was encouraged by visions of well-trained hands at my disposal and beachside asanas. Yet, I believe my newfound conviction had more to do with having ample time to search for what I really wanted, locate it and say it, out in the open. The experience of going from annoyed and maybe even scared to content and confident was healthy and totally necessary to my evolution as thinking individual. How else can one develop one’s true “self” without this allowance? And yet, I was bothered to have to come up with what I wanted. Was I afraid of not knowing what I wanted? Maybe it was the fear of facing what I really wanted. For all of the, nobody’s-getting-in-the-way-of-my-dreams, i-know-what-i-wanter’s in the world, there are thousands more, how-did-I-end-up-here, i-don’t-know-what-i-wanter’s, in a self imposed oblivion. Yes, honey: a state of willing unconsciousness. I’ve been all up in that space, and it took some uncomfortable events to get me to excuse exit and myself. It is easy to stay there, though, distracting yourself with things and things and more things. And then you’re shrouded in all of these things- “success”, “power”, “financial stability”, “the perfect pair of jeans”-that you stop looking or stop seeing because it isn’t even your vision anymore and your wearing someone else’s clothing. I want to make myself clear: the living-for-myself-and-my-needs-only lifestyle so prevalent in American culture is the extreme version. Its a selfish, soulless journey and what is possibly at the root of our recession and general disinterest in humanitarian work and community service, the latter of which our president asked of us to get back to doing. I guess I just hate the idea of some lovely, deserving person, withering away under the cloak of our society’s views. As a parent, I do not EVER want my beliefs, choices or desires to define those of my offspring. For example, I have no preference and –truthfully- no good guess as to what profession they will choose, though I am often asked what I think they will become. I do know that it would break my heart if they based a major, life decision on whether or not it would please me. Even now, as young as they are, it pains me if it seems as though that is taking place. Okay: maybe not when it comes to junk food versus healthy stuff or honoring your bedtime so you can actually make your bus. 


I just wanna mention a rad organization and website brought to my attention by a lovely woman who is doing some work for them. It’s called charity: water and the site is www.charitywater.org. Take a look for yourself and you are sure to be riveted. My kids and I stayed on there for over an hour, looking at footage and reading text. Their mission is to bring water-by way of drilling wells- to communities whose main drinking sources aren’t suitable for your pet to drink. The story behind how its founder got into this line of work is totally fly.  I’m hoping to work with them in any capacity. 

Lastly, thanks again for being so positive about the new material. The joy I get out of writing and performing it is heightened by your approving responses. There’s this itch in me to make this an “up” album. My youth was gilded with these gems- off the wall, thriller, I am, innervisions, legend, life is a dance, done by the forces of nature…I could go on ,and you know this! You know, I’m just reaching in the direction of those joints.  It would be like winning the lottery if I recorded an album you could throw on and allow you to feel all-in-your-gut good, from start to finish. I’m reaching, baby!


So, so, so…. I will be looking for ya’ll on April 30 at BB Kings in the NYC. Come with your kids, family, and friends, ready to hoot holla and sing and –for goodness sake- DANCE! (I got so excited there, I almost said bring a tambourine, but I think that might be going overboard, no?)   
Amel

My bud, shavasana,


After a day that has stripped me of my energy, that has taunted and tested my mental stability, I know there is a space into which I may happily and willingly collapse. It belongs only to me, but it is not selfish. The space can be full up with as much or as little as it likes; I have no say. I merely facilitate the room. Many folds begin to deactivate. My back folds downward. My shoulder blades and bottom fold under. My arms fold out and flat. My mind and heart unfold. My jaw remembers it does not want to be tight, so it releases. My tongue is freed from choosing between up or down and softly floats in the back of my mouth from its root. I am breathing in a slow wind and exhaling a quiet ocean in my throat. A second is a raindrop bound for a still body of water; the circles radiating from their merger, the minutes. Just when I feel I cannot disconnect, everything unnecessary peels away, and I am not worrying. I am not trying. I am not hearing .I am not pretending. I am not doing. It is rare not to be doing. I am as close to voluntary sleep without sleeping as I have ever been. I welcome forgiving, gentle, beautiful, shavasana.

When I was small, I had insomnia. My mother tried giving me herbs like hops and valerian and warm, peppermint milk. Nothing worked.  Then, she decided to apply her years of yoga knowledge (she has taught hatha since before I was born) and purchased a recording of a relaxation exercise. one part was a recording of the ocean, which, for many, many years was my method of choice. The other part was a spoken, guide to relaxation. The part that stuck with me was when the very, soft spoken male voice asked of me to imagine my body becoming filled with a warm, orange liquid, starting with my fingers. This later became the catalyst for the song, orange glow. I just assumed I would glow if I were full of a warm, orange liquid. My mind has always become too stimulated by this visualization for it to be used as a sleep aid, and to this day, I apply it as a relaxation or calming technique instead. They say shavasana is the most challenging pose in yoga, and I believe it! However, what I find on the journey is a friendly silence that I wouldn’t trade for, well, a lot of stuff! The breathing technique used in this and all yoga practices is also DEEPLY- pun intended- beneficial for those annoying, upsetting, virtually impossible moments. I even taught my littlest to do it during a spasout over math homework, and do you know, homegirl came to me later and said, ‘ wow, ma: the breathing really worked.” Brilliant☺

Speaking of which…there’s a change in the way music is being consumed today, so, in answering that call, we’re trying something different and releasing a single a month for the next four months, maybe more. We plan on giving you a full-length album for digital and traditional release, later this year. As you may or may not have heard, the first release will be the song, orange glow, on Tuesday, march 3rd, digital release only. Please be aware of how grateful and thankful we are to those of you who have consistently supported us on this independent journey.


I have been doing some gentle walking here and there, or I simply go sit on a bench in a park or along the water, making a point to connect with the outdoors once a day. Listening to the music of tony allen on my ipod makes it ridiculously enjoyable. I found myself unable to sit still on one of those benches, and it just about turned into a seated cardio routine. I had downloaded a bunch of his stuff for our new year’s eve get together, and been rocking it ever since. The only other music that takes me to similar heights of emotional and physical happiness is that of bob marley.His songs were recently played on a little local radio station in celebration of his birth, and as we drove to the mall to get something or rather for the kids, I sang and chanted down babylon until I got happy or high or both.  You forget how revolutionary his lyrics are until you listen to say, 15 album cuts in a row, and then your about ready to give up your love of material things just dedicate your life to fighting racism. When I was in my late teens, I started attending meetings of the young black panthers in a church basement in Brooklyn while simultaneously working at a place called the Africa fund, whose main purpose at the time was to spread knowledge about the atrocities of apartheid on southern Africa. I had locks, in those days, and swaddled them in tall head wraps to match long jumpers I would have made for 20 dollars by the lovely west African tailors in the now defunct, mart 125 on 125th street. I wore a nose ring-in solidarity, my mom had pierced hers the same day-and a sense of pride in my step. Those were the days of Wednesday nights at the slave theater on nostrand avenue featuring guest speakers and when 125th street was bejeweled with the most gorgeous black people from here and abroad selling everything from black literature and Gambian leather goods to kung fu videos. i read the isis papers and they came before Columbus.  I went to hear sister soldier and ras baraka speak and prayed I’d one day be as useful as they were.  I went to the free performances at the hmv record store on east 86th and saw the best band you’ll never see, a black rock coalition band called faith. And I distinctly remember sprinting to tower records on broadway after work with my tiny pay check after noticing a sale on bob marley tapes the night before- I LIVED in record stores- and buying almost every available album of his as they were selling all of them. I had never had the chance to see them all in wax, and mostly heard legend album, and my mom had been more into his wailers stuff and peter tosh, so to see these gems, even shrunken down to cassette format, was another story. Taking them home to and listening to them all alone in my tiny, Clinton hill apartment was a spiritual experience. You know the feeling of finding something on your own? The intimacy and focus I experienced when listening to his music and reading those lyrics gives me a little jolt even as I sit here and reflect. I can chart most of my life’s events through music. It was the only constant in my reality for a good while. I will protect it and honor its value and worth because it has added so much to my time here on earth.

Time to make the donuts, er, tofu!

Peace be with ya’ll,

mel
 


 

Is it merely a coincidence that the name of one of the first bills to get passed by our brilliant president sums up what we will be telling our kids’ kids about the job he did? I don’t think so! Show and prove, baby; SHOW AND PROVE. It was about time. And Lilly Ledbetter ain’t from a progressive, liberal northern environment, either. You can read all about the woman after whom the bill was named and its details on www.npr.org. Pertaining to the subject of President Obama (who, by the way, Laru and I would like to hear more journalists and media folk stop referring to as just, “Obama”), the broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion from the week before last, showcased Garrison Keeler’s tender dedication to our new president and first family in the form of an ode and a song. I was driving my eldest somewhere when it aired and as the tears rolled down my face, she totally got it. If there is ANY WAY you all can access this broadcast from www.npr.org, I feel that you are in for a treat. The media, by the way, would like to keep their jobs, so the sensationalism swirling around this new president about the stimulus plan is one way to get people watching their respective news shows. I’m not fooled here-there is so much of the prior administration’s muck to clean up in that ocean of scum that is Washington and corporate America that of course our president and his folks are going to come up looking dirty before they look clean: they have to virtually wade through! 

 

Chris Connor’s buttery voice is the backdrop as I write. Where are you, is the song, which has one of my favorite intros of all time. My favorite cut is called, all about ronnie, and song my mom wants me to cover, She is one of a handful of singers whose inimitable voice I secretly wish to come back with in my next life.J Her voice is so warm and dulcet, it nearly intoxicates. Good cold-weather listening. The east and the northeast are brick, (does anyone outside of Brooklyn use this word?), snowy and icy, yet quite beguiling: a classic, northern, powdery, alabaster landscape for your viewing enjoyment, every other day. Yes: to shovel snow and chip ice from your windshield or moustache steals the charm from this season. I am practicing the gathering of any beneficial good from every scenario I am exposed to, to reduce stress on the heart, body and mind. SOCAL might just be the place to be, for those of you who fancy the milder temperatures. Sun and the pacific are quite a sight and feelin’. The burnt sienna of the earth; the fragrance of the flora mixed with the saltiness of the sea; peach afternoons and cinnamon nights. The intimacy of Nina Simone singing, I think its going to rain today, juxtaposed with all that west-coast space and sky kind of helps you not feel so, small.

 

 Everybody and their mama has a cold or the flu- my littlest one got hit by the latter and hurled all over the hallway at school, as told by the nurse. My eldest keeps picking up the same, stinky cold and cough, as though she left that particular strain of cold flu on the handle of her backpack. Brew some goldenseal root, if you can handle it. My parents used to make a big thermos of it laced with honey and make me drink it til there was just that green looking sandy stuff at the bottom. But hey- I never had a cold for long. Scout’s honor. The sun takes forever to awake, too. I do the sun salutation way before that pretty sucker even shows upJ Its kinda kooky, watching my kids eat breakfast in the dark. Reading is essential when holed up due to the weather, so I got the new malcolm gladwell after hearing laru and my mom rave about his other works, and the gargantuan novel, middlemarch, gifted to me by my mom, after we realized I hadn’t read it. I never got around to so many of the “classics”, probably because I was reading my idea of classic: malcom x, toni morrison, alice walker, virginia hamilton, chinua achebe…. Know what I’m saying? Now that we have a BLACK president, I think I can bring myself to read the stuff my eldest has been reading since sixth grade-the year her school dubbed her a “classic reader”. I am actually reading, to kill a mockingbird to my youngest, and I forgot how deeply affective is this book. I may be enjoying it more than she is. The bonus is that if she can put down that twilight series (which I had no qualms with until she preceded to reread them and shun all else) long enough to finish this book, we’ll rent the movie, and what a movie it is! I wanted to hug gregory peck for putting all those ignoramuses in their places. That story never gets old. I think we’ll read middle passage, next. I need to be there when she experiences that writing.

 

 

Speaking of writing…I am swimming in it! Totally immersed, ensconced, etc., etc. I am afraid to talk on the phone too much as though I could lose words and thoughts; as though ideas would have fewer vessels on which to board if I speak the words instead of writing them. I HEART texting. It lets me use my muscle as well as hold on to my friends and family, whom I could easily offend with my lack of phone action. I go to sleep between 9pm- if I’m lucky- and 10, so whatever’s happening creatively has gotta go down, sometime between 6am and bedtime. I’ve been DVR-ing stuff I like, but the only show I actually ever make time for is 24, though I am two episodes behind and only watch it while I’m doing exercises that are not yoga .You could hear a collective sigh in the larrieux household when that show finally came back. I get all anticipatory and what not, as I did for the cosby show on thursday nights. I did catch the first episode of the united states of tara and –holy smokes, is that show unique! To watch toni collete in this role is humbling, for anyone who has ever dared to consider acting. The only other thing I make time for is going outdoors. Any time of day, rain or shine, I must connect with real air at some point in the day. I worked all day yesterday, and it was not until the sky was dark and the snowflakes had become plump did I find a minute to get some air. One of the few souls with the desire and – quite possibly- schedule to permit such a frolic, I walked- no- pranced along a narrow, river path. The snow glowed about me – as though lit from beneath. It was just pure powder underfoot! And that delightful quiet that comes with heavy snowfall-as though this weightless, magical dust absorbs sound and you are hearing yourself think, for a change. Every inch of world appeared cloaked in the stuff, as though a giant baker from a childhood picture book had sprinkled the earth with confectioners’ sugar. My pace quickened; I felt intoxicated and a bit giddy from all the velvety stillness. Again; the fusion of opposites provoking a similar reaction within me. For that small window of time, the entire world was radiant. How often can you say that? It has not happened to me with much frequency! If only I’d picked up some of those snow pants for myself when I got them for my daughter, I surely would have left my signature: an adult sized snow angel.

 

 

 Food preparation is the chief interrupter of my work, these days. I prepare most of our meals myself so I am privy to all of the ingredients and this way we are safe from preservatives and allergens. The meals tend to be quite swift in preparation due to our particular whole/ real -foods diet and so I can get back to work. My newest fave for myself is so easy and tasty and mega nutritious, I felt the need to share. This is suitable for any meal of the day. Our household has a broad view of what each meal can be: fish and veggies with rice or porridge for breakfast or dinner. Therefore, I keep a lot of organic pre roasted nori around because its good for snacking or crumbling into dishes or making hand rolls. Well, I really love hand rolls, so I've been just bringing some sheets of nori to the table to accompany any dish I desire. If you suffer from hypothyroidism you’ll want to make sure to cook all sea veggies as they can encourage goiters, some practitioners say. At breakfast, I may scramble egg whites with onions, spinach and portobello mushrooms, drizzle with toasted sesame oil, sprinkle with some gomasio (mine has sesame seeds, sea salt and seaweed) and stuff it in a sheet of nori. Equally as scrumptious is a combo of brown rice, steamed or sautéed greens (kale, chard, collards are all nice, alone or mixed). If you like fish, you can add one .A canned tuna or salmon will do, if you are short on time. Mix these ingredients together in a pan, drizzle with a good quality, dark green olive oil, sea salt, cracked red pepper, dried basil and a squeeze of lemon juice. You can add gomasio if you enjoy it as much as I do. This is delicioso in a nori wrap, as well. I have fallen hard for the raw, dark chocolate from raw chocolate love, nyc.  Its raw, made from super foods, vegan, agave sweetened instead of that mean ol’ sugar, non-dairy, soy and gluten free and 100% organic. I can allow myself and my kids to have it and not feel an ounce of guilt or have an allergy attack!  Lastly, I found a great way to make dairy free, vegan pancakes for the whole fam to enjoy but substituting pumpkin puree or applesauce or both for eggs. Just add some cinnamon and nutmeg in the batter and -for an extra dose of healthy- sprinkle in some flax meal. We use gluten free pancake mix and the kids don’t seem to complain. I share these recipes cuz I know how much it helps me to exchange food info with others.

 

As I wrap up this post, I find myself practically lifting off my seat, so full from the sound of Kathleen battle’s voice. My heart stirs and swells and grows wings with the ascension of each, glorious note, until I feel it will burst out of my chest and fly away. And here I am-a puddle of a woman- left weeping to the sounds of another unreasonably, gorgeous voice.

 

I guess that’s what laru means when he says I am dramaticJ

 

 

P.s.- the recording of kathleeen battle – which anyone in their right mind would want at this very moment- is called, kathleen battle in concert, kathleen battle and james levine. She does a version of, he’s got the whole world in his hands that is, in my eyes, one of the post poignant and perfectly sung pieces of all time. xo amel

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Some of us are surrounded by family we love and haven't seen in a while. Some of us are surrounded by family we see every day. Some of us are with friends that are like family. Some of us are alone. Some of us are cooking. Some of us are trying to figure out how to make a little food look like a lot. Some of us are planning to stuff our faces. Some of us are hoping we can show some restraint. Some of us are receiving an expensive gift. Some of us are giving a gift we made with our own, unique creativity. Some of us are getting a hug. Some of us are gonna be in debt. Some of us are leaving cookies for santa. Some of us are defying convention. Some of us are just gonna order chinese. Some of us want more. Some of us are happy with what we have. Some of us are too ill to get out of bed for the festivities. Some of us will celebrate the festivities in bed. Some of us are going to church. Some of us are singing out in the cold and making people smile. Some of us are praying. Some of us are dedicating our time to those who have less. Some of us wish our loved one was back from the war. Some of us want world peace. Some of us want a nap. All of us want LOVE.

Peacepeacepeacepeacepeacepeacepeace

amel+the blisslife crew