Kitchen Comfort

I am taking what comfort I can these days, where I can. One of the things I am taking comfort in is Doris Lessing's incredibly messy kitchen table. This picture is from an interview with the Nobel people after she won the prize in 2008.

In the interview, she described feminism in "those days", ie. the early 70s, as "exaggerated hysterical rubbish". This comment related to her description of one particular incident in Sweden in the 1970s when a woman approached her and said "I only read the blue notebook".

I enjoy The Golden Notebook - savour might be a better word - but I connected much more with her Jane Somers novels. Also, I highly recommend Mara and Dann. Really interesting speculative fiction.

In case you are wondering, about my opinion on feminism - I do not think it is hysterical rubbish. In fact, the more I work with young women, the more strongly I feel we have never needed feminism more in this world than we do at this point in time. Feminist consciousness - including the whole spectrum, extreme positions and all - has been a powerful force that continues to provoke people to re-examine assumptions about identities - and not only female identities. For example, I like to see blogs like this one, which examines stereotypes of masculinity and their effects on men's experience and identity.

Whew!

Photo credit! Copyright © Nobel Web AB 2008. (http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/2007/lessing-photo.html)

I heart Lynn Miles

Okay, every time we go to the Irene's open mic, we meet someone famous. This time it was LYNN MILES. She sang first - five beautiful songs, two of them new ones from her spiral-bound notebook. I couldn't believe my luck. Then I sat there reeling with shyness, unable to get up the courage to say a thing, while Lynn Miles packed up her stuff and the next singer took the stage.
However, thanks to Carmel's ability to chat with anyone, I did get to speak with Lynn Miles. In fact, she addressed me - to my amazement...

Lynn Miles: Excuse me, are you Jen Gilbert?
Jen G: guh
Lynn Miles: Is it true that you sing Black Flowers?
Jen G: I love your songs. I love you.

I don't really remember the rest, except that it took a while for my feet to touch the ground again. And she has beautiful dark, soulful eyes.



Lynn Miles, I heart you a whole lot.

I just think she's a genius at writing about heartbreak, about confusion, about seeking meaning, about seeking - and rejecting, and being rejected by - love, about loss, about resolve in the face of despair - about the emotional quilt of life, in short - about being human.

She has been an inspiration to me since I first heard her perform. Despite her long track record and the wealth of her musical oeuvre, I didn't hear her until almost ten years ago when Unravel came out. I was just starting to learn the guitar and sing with the Blooming Divas. I don't understand why she is not much much much more famous. She should be, like, Leonard-Cohen-level-famous. I've learned so much about the possibilities of songs and how they communicate from her songwriting. I love listening to and playing her songs (disclaimer - though it really goes without saying - think 'homage' rather than 'cover' - I ain't no Lynn Miles!).

AND THANK YOU to the Elizabeth Riley afficionados who came out to see us: It means so much that you come, especially when you know that we're just up for three songs and then down again. You guys rock. I also heart you guys, like, hardcore.

Tomorrow! Irene's open stage...

Hey, come have a beer and hear some music, including Elizabeth Riley! We plan to get up sometime between 3:30 and 4:30. If you are into dancing, bring yer dancing shoes. Or you could just tap your toes. Songs will include two originals: Who Knows; Right Person, Wrong Place, Wrong Time. Now you know you do not want to miss that.

We have inspired dancing in the past, and here is proof... (scroll all the way down to the bottom for the cutest pictures, my personal favourites)

Skull imagery

A few weeks ago, in my Monday night yoga class, as the teacher went around the room for a check-in with everyone, people that night said, for the most part, that they were jangled, or lacked focus. When it was my turn to speak, I thought back over my day, a routine one, with quiet pleasure. "I had a good day," I said.

I should have known the hammer of fate was hovering above my head, waiting to strike.

I felt two soft blows, one that night and one the next day. They turned out to be mere taps, reminders of the impermanence of life, not (I'm glad to say) harbingers of outright chaos.

Nothing is permanent, this is a truth that is hard to accept at times, because I want the security of my plans and I cherish the illusion of control. My home isn't permanent. My job isn't permanent. My relationships with people and things are not permanent. I'm not permanent.

The hammer has retreated back into the clouds. I am back to planning (of course... this is ME we are talking about!). I had to give up a plan that I cared about, but at the same time, I have been given a gift, because in letting go of what I thought I had, I became aware of new possibilities.

Pictures: a few faves