stitchwhich | The Night of Bards (Reply)

You'd think I wouldn't have writer's block on the Night of Bards, of all nights. But honestly, I can't think of a single, or even a trio, of "bards" who I'd want to concentrate on. One name just sort of leads to the next without any huge standouts. >

George Gershwin (Porgy & Bess and Rhapsody in Blue, which kept me sane during my exile in Utah) leads to um, whoever it was that wrote the Overture of 1812, which was the other album I had with me that school year. I listened to both of them incessantly. While I was there, a sweet lovely boy named John Price Ruggeri gave me the first press of "Godspell" for my birthday, which with the other two comprised my total music collection in the wilds of Goat and Cow Country Music Land. I often wonder what happened to John. He was far too kind and progressive for his hometown (named after a member of his family, actually, who'd founded the town).

So that leaves out a ton of other musicians. Bach. Thank you, Bach, for your harpsichord pieces. (And thank you, un-passed-on Dwezel Zappa, for proving that at least one of them can be played on a guitar, at tempo, by one artist with only two hands. Amazing.) Billie Holiday. Oh, that voice, oh, that passion... John Denver reflected the love of land and family back to me and Rogers and Hammerstein gave me hours and hours of shower singing (and state competition pieces, but let's NOT talk about that!) And oh, thank you, Benjamin Britton. Thank you, thank you, thank you for A Ceremony of Carols. I guess that means I should thank Pope Gregory for causing so many plainchant pieces to be written down, too.

And that would be "music". Louisa May Alcott, on whose birthday I was born, was the author who helped me find reserves of compassion and love during the most difficult time of my early life. Not so much through "Little Men" and "Little Women" as through "An Old Fashioned Girl" and "Jo's Boys". Love, understanding, the honor of nurturing one's children and loved ones - she gave me that to cling to. Dr. Suess gave me "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish" which still makes me giggle (so does "Where the Wild Things Are". Thank you, Marice Sendak). Whoever really wrote "Desiderata", I have to thank them also. It was my mantra for many, many years and kept my face un-slapped through a rough teenage period. It may be trite, now, but I'm okay with that. The passages always seem to contain something that touches me at just the moment I need them, although to my shame, more often than not it was “…and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant, for they too have their story”, which is condescending as hell, but helped me keep my rude mouth shut many times when I was ready to say something totally out of line.

“Hear now the words of the Great Mother, … and ye shall sing, and dance, make music and make love, all in My name, for all acts of pleasure are my rituals…” I don’t care who originally wrote it, the Charge of the Goddess (most original form is found in “Aradia”) is a benediction on humanity. Thank you, gifted wordsmith, for giving the Lady’s love a shape for us to understand. And on the Christian side, thank you to whoever wrote the prayer beginning, “Remember most blessed Virgin Mary, that never was it said, that anyone who fled to your protection or sought your intercession was left unaided…” and the other unknown who penned the “Prayer of St. Francis”. Beauty. Love. Craft in its highest form.

Huh. Guess I had something to write after all.

The power went off while I was typing my entry. It’s off in our whole sector, so I’ve saved this to Word and will cut & paste it in later on. I spent most of today shopping and my feet hurt like blazes, even though I wore the brand-new jogging shoes that Arn talked me into last night. “Plantar Fascii” (or whatever it is). Ugh. Sore feet for the next few months? Probably, since I don’t want to wimp out on the holiday season. I’m not looking forward to being on my feet all night Saturday even if it is for a good cause. I wanted to weep by the time I got home this evening and I’m back to hobbling like I’m 90 years old… maybe if I rubbed “Icy-Hot” on my soles before I put my shoes on tomorrow? Peppermint toesies. That should be interesting!