Dreams of a fourteen year old girl....

Thinking about dreams, I had when I was fourteen, I wished for the time I would go to Afrika & help the villagers, by bringing them books to learn to think about more than their tiny community. To bring them ideas and the words to speak more aptly--more descriptively about their feelings, their experiences & about their aspirations. I read about the Peace Corps & I really couldn't wait to grow up & join the workers -- going to those under-developed countries--to pass out the boxes of food, to set up the tents & to teach the Afrikans about some philosophical truths & enable them to record their own. I dreamt of helping people with no voice--express themselves. Sometimes I dreamt about being a drummer in a band, though.

The Hellenic Voice - Published Article 11/14/07

Mario Frangoulis Celebrates an Amor Concert

- Cambridge, MA - The Greek Institute sponsored a presentation of Mario Frangoulis in concert on October 28 at Harvard University's Sanders Hall. The energy level along with the delight of the concert-goers was phenomenal. Frangoulis, a tenor with the ability to perform with a powerful energy and passion in Greek, English, Spanish and French, pleased the crowd with his songs and brough down the house with several encores.
His admirers were vocal in their admiration of him and requested songs. His good-nature and ability to move to serious themes reflects a well-earned reputation of the consummate professional.
The concert included lyrics from poems of Federico Garcia Lorca, a revered poet and dramatist from Spain, and the songs the passion of the concert, reflected Frangoulis' power and energy; that is Greek. He enlightened and moved his audience.
The concert included Theodore Economou of Athens on piano, who is one of the primary creative partners with the tenor. Also performing was Robert Curtis, violin; John Damian, guitar; Lydios Blendi Dhamis, bass; Rod Ferland, flute/carinet; Panagiotis Liaropoulis of Athens, keyboards; Ricardo Monzon, percussion; Anthony Pentikis, bouzoukia; and John Ramsay, drums.
The concert hall filled with music an poetry was presented with sponsorshop of Demetra Anangnostopouls and Vassilios Karabetas, the Behrakis Foundation, the Costas and Mary Maliotis Charitable Foundation, Peter J. Tamis, President and the Alexander S. Onassis Public Benefit Foundation, NYC.
Frangoulis will be a featured performer at the November 16 benefit for Boston homeless at the Strand Theater.

Doctor Zhivago..years later!

The question was..What is your favorite book & why? Okay, two questions..then the group was given..perhaps ten minutes to write. Write all about it.
From deep within, this exercise illicited the following:

Pasternak's 'Doctor Zhivago' has been an important book in my literary life. ( I read it on the recommendation of my mother, one summer in the sixties). The main character's conflict with living his life and writing poetry against the backdrop of major political changes in Russian remains an exceptional reading experience & one which I still empathize and identify with.

Dr. Zhivago had a talent; writing poetry, however, he was also a medical doctor. His angst with his creativity and training in a profession, trying to chose and trying to do both well...is amazing to me. I was so atuned to his perspective in this novel...I felt that I was him & didn't want the book to end.

I have always enjoyed Russian literature; the emeshing of philosophy, spiritual & political movements with the individual choices of men. Zhivago is a Russian derivative of 'life' & as in the movie 'Z' the energy, passion & pathos of humanity..moves the spirit.

(to be continued)

Words of Thanks

'Each new morning with its light,
for rest & shelter of the night,
for health & food,
for love & friends,
for everything thy goodness sends.'

Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thanksgiving 2007 - Family Prayer

Favorites..Not An Easy Task

Blue skies, Blue waves, white sand, writing, moving forward, reading, strawberries, blueberries, strong coffee, smiling eyes, big smiles, yellow labs with sloppy everything & wagging tails, a quick step, a tall guy, a passionate kiss.

Dreaming..

that I am rushing to somewhere, with a canvas bag full of books, a handbag full of stuff...too many handles & straps, & fast walk, gait almost a run. How am I doing so far? Am I rushing to somewhere important? The term is just a rush, of classes, different campuses, students eager to please, to write. But for now, I am walking fast in a crowd; some sitting on the edges & some standing..talking; few walking, perhaps a few walking. I am trying to squeeze through a space of the walkers & one's sitting on high, wooden stools.

The handbag strap caught on someone; being pulled back sharply & trying to dis-engage. The person has a goatee, some grey & white & black mixed in..thinning hair, relaxing posture; repose, really. He's smiling but not a lot. He's caught with the strap, or is it that I'm caught by him being attached to it. Not sure, but now I am unable to walk my fast walk, and move myself to wherever I am going. I have to stop, am I stopping or am I just in a limbo that only happens in dreams. Then again, the term has been on such a fast pace, I'm still not sure if I'm asleep..dreaming or awake...in a haze.

He seems amused and takes the strap away from his body to hand back to me. I like his relaxed aura and his amusement; but feel obligated to move on, to continue the fast pace and the frenetic movement of an energy that I'm not quite feeling. This frame freeze vanishes, and I'm on an escalator; yes, still bogged down with stuff and bags & books and too much weight. Weighted down and weightier than I've ever been, how is this happening; when did it happen. The escalator takes forever, I do have somewhere to be, somewhere where I'm expected. Expected to talk, to share, to entertain the students, the administration, the Department.

And my desires, my aspirations ..long forgotten. How do I return to the man with the goatee, on the wooden stool smiling with a healthy sense of self. How do I become more like him?

Moving off of the escalator, now in full head-to-toe sheer turquiose, light and billowy material; dressed in veils and golden coins and chains and movement is now with joy.

Dancing, moving, music, sheer-ness...not weighted. Hips gyrating and light, lightness...scent of the exotic..dancing. The man with the goatee, standing tall, watching and smiling as I dance. Oh, joy!

Juicy...

yeah, gossip..talking the talk & relishing the fun facts about faculty & maybe about administrators. No harm done, no foul. Just a little talking about things.

Being in a funk; feeling blue...how can that be more than a whisp of a breeze..as now we talk & have a chuckle. Fun being old enough to know better & still able to share a tidbit of easy gossip.

Quiet Time...

& being still. My son has a moment to talk with me, as we drive to Brighton. I am there to support him. I am with him to be the parent that I always knew that I would be...non-judgemental, approachable...& kind. I hope he sees me this way.

So, here we are ..and later,
Yes, later I take him to one of my favorite haunts...the Burger Joint in Harvard Square, where the din & the noise-level give an illusion of being in the 'thick of it'. Are we?

It's enjoyable, it's fun.
Walking in the Square, talking & walking...easy.

A Thought on a Humid Day!

A Thought on a Humid Day!

The phone was ringing..too late at night to be social. My son’s voice on the other end, ‘hey, Mom!’.

‘What’s wrong, honey!’

‘Nothing. Just wanted you to know that I invited the Soccer team over for a Pasta Dinner on Friday! Everyone’s psyched.’

‘Okay. So, how many athletes coming along?’

‘Well, including the coaches, about thirty guys. And, I told them about your home-made speghetti sauce & meatballs, so you can’t buy them.’ ‘Okay!’

‘My pleasure…not a problem. See you on Wednesday at the game, & pasta & home-made everything on Friday.’

So, teaching a million classes at three colleges & preparing the meal for the soccer team. Wow!

The athletes came & went….in a matter of an hour or so…wow! Nice boys, nice & polite..hugs all around & thanks all around. What a pleasure.

My son is a joy! How fun is all of this….very fun. A Blast!

Time...

and aging, where did the days go? Spent! Time and space leaving the energy of one's youth intact & the aspirations readily remain. Experience and passion, life and death require another look and a long reflection.

Summertime..twenty-seven years later...

and, the later part is the part that is bewildering. The time passing, the spirit soaring and the never-ending goodness & loving. Love, a word defining that jeux de vie, the energy & pulse of living...& the spirit remains the same. Time passing..or not at all; standing & being. It is perplexing...but it is good.

Watching two horses, one white-one mocha. Both large & yes, sinewy..with tails whipping the crisp August air. They position themselves, head-to-tail and stand firm, the sensuality of the muscles and the tails-movement; the heads held high..& the closeness of their bodies...mesmerized me.

Bacon Free Library - Author's Events

Bacon Free Library – Authors’ Events
By: Jeanne K. Cosmos

Since Diane Wallace came aboard to direct the events of the Library as Director of the BFL, the authors that have graciously shared their work, read from their books and discussed the writing process has been exceptional. Some of the authors that are on the forefront for me are Joe Finder, author of “Killer Instinct”. Joe read from his novel; but not only did he do so, he also wove a story of his own history as the basis of much of what he writes. Joe Finder shared his investigative style and his fictionalized telling of major issues under the guise of the fictional detective or naïve narrator. He is a master at the writing of action stories.

Prior to hearing Mr. Finder share his style of writing and his building of the novel, we heard from Jay Atkinson. Jay wrote about the local county detectives and he learned as he wrote. Jay told of his amazement at the criminal characters that appeared and wanted to tell him their side of the story; as he researched his book. The event took on local color and the event was casual, but so informative.

Over the years, having read the book reviews of Gail Caldwell, the publication of her memoirs was a refreshing occurrence. Gail came along from Cambridge and was kind enough to share her story with the patrons of the BFL and also her experience writing rather than critiquing others’ work. Gail read from her book, and shared her writing process. It was one of the most successful events and a major coup for the Bacon Free, having local writers willing to read and share their work.

Kim Ponders, a new writer publishing her book from her major work writing her MFA thesis and working to reproduce the feelings and motivation of her flying a jet plane for the US as female pilot; very edgy and she was a energizing presence and superlative author. Her appearance to read excerpts from her book and speak with us was another phenomenal happening.

Many authors have readily come along to the beautiful and peaceful library of ours on the beautiful Charles River overlooking the waterfall.

Bookstores and libraries have authors’ events, however, the thrust of the series at the BFL is having some exceptional authors come to read and share their work. I am so proud to be a part of these events, albeit a small part. I am looking forward to the season of authors beginning in September that will read and discuss their work with us. These events add to our community and I encourage all readers to come along and be engaged at these wonderful monthly readings.

Losing Lucky

Losing Lucky...not an easy feat! I loved my Lucky, a sweet yellow lab. Only 7 yrs with our family; growing with my sons. Losing Lucky..just not ready for that loss. Lucky was my helpmate with my sons; helping teach them responsibility and helping me..help them with so much. If one of them was 'blue', Lucky would nuzzle them and jostle them out of it...a smile would surface and even a laugh. He was right beside me in the kitchen & later in the evening, the kids tucked in..Lucky sat nearby as I relaxed after a long day. Losing Lucky is one of the life experiences that tugs at my heart at the most odd times. Tearing up the other day, I wished that time would have ..could have paused for a moment. Losing Lucky..just a small loss, a pet; but for our family quite a pain..in the heart.