To thine own self be true

Moby Dick out there! In Sobey’s this morning, I spotted Queequeg–his distinctive, tanned bald head with mysterious tattoos on one side of the back of his neck. The only thing he was missing as he roamed the salad section was a harpoon. My Herman Melville moment in the Heart of Darkest Mill Woods. Whoda thunk?

A thousand kisses deep.”

“And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A thousand kisses deep.”

“The file on you complete,
Except what we forgot to do,
A thousand kisses deep.”

–Leonard Cohen, “A Thousand Kisses Deep”, Ten New Songs

This is the hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
–Walt Whitman, published in Inside Poetry (2nd ed.) by Richard Davies & Jerry Wowk

Dylan Thomas’s “A Child’s Christmas in Wales”, experienced on Christmas eve or Christmas Day. Dylan Thomas Reading was the first album Thomas recorded for the two women who founded Caedmon Records; this was the label’s first release in 1952. The special blue booklet of woodcut illustrations by Ellen Raskin (New Directions) was long a Christmas staple, too. Later came the excellent 1988 movie adaptation (Hen’s Tooth/Alliance) of the story. All are highly recommended reading, listening, and viewing.

I remember buying this LP for myself in a doldrums period then and hunkering down to listen to great songs like “Changes”. And then Karen phoned me out of the blue, inviting me over to visit. It was the turning point in our relationship after not hearing from her for a month or so.
I always associate Phil Ochs’ “Changes” with her, that magic moment just before Christmas when we started up. (Later in January, we would go see Ian and Sylvia at University of MB.)

The lyrics of Ochs’ profound, spell-binding tune:

Sit by my side, come as close as the air,
Share in a mem’ry of grey,
And wander in my words,
And dream about the pictures that I play of changes.

Green leaves of summer turn red in the fall,
To brown and to yellow they fade;
And then they have to die, trapped within the
Circle time parade of changes.

Scenes of my young years were warm in my mind,
Visions of shadows that shine;
Till one day I returned and they were the
Victims of the vines of changes.

The world’s spinning madly, it drifts in the dark
Swings through a hollow of haze;
A race around the stars, a journey through the
Universe ablaze with changes.

Moments of magic will glow in the night.
All fears of the forest are gone;
But when the morning breaks, they’re swept away by
Golden drops of dawn of changes.

Passions will part to a strange melody
As fires will sometimes burn cold;
Like petals in the wind, we’re puppets to the
Silver strings of souls of changes.

Your tears will be trembling, now we’re somewhere else
One last cup of wine we will pour;
And I’ll kiss you one more time and leave you on the
Rolling river shores of changes.

’cause we ain’t gonna help you. (You’re all on your own, baby.)”
–the Alberta Government
(a long-standing, dumb, insulting, pointless, ridiculously expensive PSA; Big Brother tells you the bleeding obvious..)

to royally entertain grandsons at Christmas.

to amuse a 4 or 5-year-old in December.

to brighten and express Christmas.