It’s a lesson I have to relearn each time: the hardest thing is the sudden deprivation of rituals. This is the last time Fuller will ever be on my lap. Friday was the last time Fuller played with his favorite catnip mouse. One minute he’s here, the next he’s gone.
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.
a kaddish for elizabeth edwards
I’m not sure what to think, exactly, about Elizabeth Edwards, but I’m pretty sure that the real tragedy is that we still know more about him than her.
daily kaddish: a lullaby
[powerpress]
daily kaddish: improvisation on the perfect fourth
[powerpress] A Kaddish improvised on the interval of a perfect fourth.
a kaddish for terry dobson
There’s no reason for me to remember. There’s no reason to forget. I knew the man for 15 minutes. The last 15 minutes, it turned out. Riki, his partner, told me at SF General Hospital that night, that in those 15 minutes, I had gotten the best of Terry Dobson. Maybe it’s the focus on…