Chaz’s latest choreography will begin with me playing horn—probably something quite Kaddish-like, yet!—while lying flat on my back on the floor. I assured Chaz that this can be done, and tonight I thought I’d better make sure about that.
Category: kaddish in two-part harmony
The Academic and the Musician. The academic immerses in Kaddish with thoughts of thinking rather than feeling—the emotions being too raw. The musician spends her time in making us feel, whether we want to or not. And making the music of kaddish. Making music kadosh. A flurry of emails ensue between the two. Their blogs lock horns, as do the writers themselves. They start a joint blog. They start a podcast.
A commitment to a year-long project has begun: a kaddish in two-part harmony.
A conversation among an anthropologist, a musician, and their audience on themes of death and dying, grief, ritual, the interplay between musician and listener.
daily kaddish: all of them
After a long day at work, a run, and small dinner party that went late, I was exhausted. I’d had a great day full of life, and exhaustion replaced sadness for those no longer alive.
daily kaddish: a song of thanksgiving for failed relationships
A musical toast to an almost-Dad-in-law.
a kaddish of thanksgiving for failed relationships
Is it wrong to have fun writing a kaddish? This is a kaddish of Thanksgiving for failed relationships, and a toast to an almost-Dad-in-law. I can hear the ice clinking in our glasses even now.
daily kaddish: for Tina Wuelfing Cargile
I’ve been thinking about Tina lately because earlier this week I got together with her boss from back in the day, Shelly Orr Priebe.
daily kaddish: for the Apollo space program
On wanting to be an astronaut—and Johnny Cash—when I grow up.
the tzaddik and the automobile of art maintenance
Everybody knows about the tzaddik’s cars. They were fairly famous. His vehicles impersonated him. They imprinted on him. Everybody remembers particular stories about his cars. Only I don’t know all of the stories. And that really bugs me. I guess what I really want is to know everything. Collect everything. Every shred of memory. I…
daily kaddish: just straight on through
Tonight I played about a third faster than usual, with simple, unhistrionic rhythm. No frills–just the thrill of playing a very clean, well lubricated horn.
daily kaddish: with a clean horn!
A delighted, jubilant kaddish using a cleaned, oiled, adjusted, polished horn.
a good enough mother — or not
I’ve been thinking a lot about my parents. Not just my mother’s illness and my father’s death, but also about parenting altogether. How are we with our pups? How are we with our own children? How are we with the next generation, and the one after that and after that. The do-we-say-I-love-you post is part…