To thine own self be true

The baby and young child start life as gifts, unbeknownst to themselves. They are what they are, naturally, as much as a beautiful, undisturbed landscape or animal in the wild. Consciousness is relatively undeveloped through the early years. And when children are bad or are hard on themselves, it is the early consciousness without perspective that again cannot see that the individual is and has been– a gift per se, as is, in all his or her relative innocence and ignorance.

There may eventually come a point in the teen years and early adult years when the individual becomes more aware of receiving the special gifts of others. It may be the case of an aunt bequeathing a favorite painting, a grandfather bequeathing a car to a young married couple, or simply the awareness of a family member or friend giving up their time and acting for the individual in some important, meaningful way.

Our first significant relationships often have an element of the gifts of self–individuals doing or offering their best for others, sometimes willing to sacrifice much for the other, fortunate person. Weddings often have a strong sense of this mutual gifting–a free, voluntary sharing of the best of one’s self.

This theme, likewise, runs through certain occupations and work such as counselling, teaching, and nursing. The best people in those areas open themselves up and offer their best to others who want or need it. And we may also find that it is our friends, from high school on, who offer the most memorable gifts of self, without asking anything in return, these special people without agendas who are apolitical in what they offer others.

Life goes on and at some point, we may wake up and review our pasts and find, recognize, and appreciate the many special gifts of self we may either have taken for granted or not fully understood and appreciated. This may turn out to be a very long list with many faces from past and present. We may also stop to consider, in turn, how and when we ourselves were gifts of self to others.

I think in later life you can often see a belated recognition of the gifts of self in occasions such as funerals where there is, typically, albeit belatedly unfortunately, celebrations of lives. Although it is good for survivors, family, and friends to hear of the special gifts of self, too often the testimonies of appreciation are too late–things that were not said to the face of the person when he or she was alive.

No, the best time to offer, accept, and appreciate the special gifts of people is when folks are more fully conscious and alive. For there are many a desert flower and Eleanor Rigby who have lived and died without that deserved attention, experience, recognition, and love. Simply put–the power, magic, and importance of giving and receiving the very special Gifts of Self.

Dazzling & bright
eye m just visiting
yr loco galaxy

a whimsical bit
of cosmic mass
from `somewhere else.`

Entering yr atmosphere
eye plunge comet-like
thru clouds of destiny

sidereal satellite
of the last 1/4
my magnitude unlimited.

Don`t look 2 long
at my radiants tho`
lest eye scorch yr
site 4 good–

Waterscape
by Dean McKenzie

(a memory from Cafe le Gare, 1989, reading with Dean for the first time…)

In the rain mirror
the city is downside-up.
The silvery splash of mist drops
in a cloud of grey:
sheets of glazed pavement
reflect the urban vertical.
Two distant points vanish:
one is invisible above my head.
All the mist hides it–the rain source–
a pinnacle of ultimate wet
at the zenith.
It spits its nickel-silver life-breath stream
down   down   down…
Down to the pavement that holds it flat.
Splash concentric waves
micro-duplicate tsunami
yet hold flat–
MIrroring glass-concrete-people
and splashes their reflections
down, down
down to a nadir of light-warp
Far beneath my feet.
Down to a
Second vanishing point at
the darkest edge of vision–
surreal–
Yet my eye beholds the invert
as far less wearying
than the grey wet figures of
virtual image above water-ground.
There, in glass, concrete, steel, pavement
human motion ceases
and all is waterfall to create mirror.

If I squint as I stare straight down
I see myself at the
very bottom of this rainscape.

The Legend lives on. Easily, still, the best male poet-performer Edmonton’s ever had.

(Thomas the Train playmat: lining up the engines and Fisher-Price cups; self-enclosed solitary play: putting things in order)

(Lest I Forget: the post-WWII requisite sailor suit, especially for navy men’s kids)

My father was a soldier then,
And times were very hard
When I was young…”
(Eric Burdon and The Animals)

in time for Father’s Day: a young blue jay landed on the above large blue jay mobile in the backyard this morning.

No Stone Left Alone Memorial Foundation remembering the fallen, the veterans and the many men and fathers who sacrificed themselves in war to help keep Canada free.
They should never be forgotten or dissed by those who enjoy all the advantages we have subsequently inherited.
They are models of heroism and courage that deserve to be remembered as society and government continue to dismantle and rewrite the physical, moral, and spiritual reality of the past.

SPRITUALLY GIFTED

Real Men Drive Fords

LvnDLf

that the first and best pop festival of all time occurred and I’m not talking Woodstock.
The Monterey Pop Festival of June 1967 was a very ambitious, successful, and memorable undertaking by Lou Adler and John Phillips. It featured newcomers Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Ravi Shankar (the only person paid), and The Who (introducing themselves in a big way to the U.S.).

D.A. Pennebaker who had filmed Don’t Look Back about Bob Dylan’s first U.K. tour had several cameramen roaming around trying to capture the flavor of the festival and all the (what-have-become) stereotypes and clichés are there in what is essentially a people and music festival. The people and bands, including The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, who wanted to perform and missed out  is a long, Who’s Who list in itself.

If you want to savour some of rock’s most memorable moments along with the first major injection of Eastern music into the West, the DVD box by Criterion (pictured above) is The Package you want. It has the Mamas and Papas singing “California Dreaming” and “Got a Feeling”, Simon and Garfunkle doing “Feelin’ Groovy”, Eric Burdon and The Animals in their wildest incarnation doing the Stones’ “Paint It Black”, The Who thrashing around in “My Generation”, Hendrix setting his guitar on fire in “Wild Thing”, and Shankar knocking everyone out with a long, intense jazz-style raga.

The Outtakes disc features The Association opening up the festival with “Along Comes Mary” (about marijuana), Simon and Garfunkle doing excellent performances of “Homeward Bound” and “Sounds of Silence”, The Byrds doing “Chimes of Freedom” with a wild, whacked-out David Crosby, The Jefferson Airplane druggily rendering “Somebody to Love”, The Buffalo Springfield doing their “For What It’s Worth” anthem before they broke up and became CSN, The Who pounding through “Substitute” and “Summertime Blues”, and The Mamas and Papas led by Cass Elliot nailing “Straight Shooter” and “Monday Monday”.

For Hendrix fans there is a separate disc featuring “Purple Haze”, “Foxy Lady”, “Like a Rolling Stone”, “Hey Joe” and “The Wind Cries Mary”. It contains, arguably, Hendrix’s most memorable, dramatic work with the Experience.

Others featured in this extravaganza are Otis Redding, Big Brother and the Holding Company, The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, Country Joe and the Fish, The Electric Flag with mike Bloomfield, Al Kooper, Laura Nyro, and the sixties novelty act Tiny Tim.

The new HD digital transfer and 5.1 mix are complemented by audio commentaries, interviews, and a scrapbook. If you are curious about music at the time of the Summer of Love (beyond The Beatles), this is as good a place as any to begin your explorations. Highly recommended.