64 x 11 (Boxes)

What we have here: a stack of boxes.
In each box a specific number of words,
Sometimes configured loosely, as if arising from speech
Or random thought; other times stretched too taut,
The surface tension making for furrowed brows, clenched
Teeth, a certain lack of poise and clarity.
But we are all friends, if not family:
We watch out for and mirror each other.

Mercy

On Thursday night we went in to see Glen Hansard in concert (thanks, B&T) at the Fox Theatre in Oakland. Hansard's first big break came in 2006 when the indie movie "Once," in which Hansard starred with Markéta Irglová, went viral. (They also starred in the documentary "The Swell Season," about the followup American tour.)

I was curious to see where Hansard had wound up in his musical evolution. While in "Once" Hansard plays an Irish folksinger and songwriter, there is in the sheer physical intensity of his performances something that seems to demand a larger venue, a bigger sound, a fuller orchestration. And that's primarily what was on display in Oakland. Hansard came on stage alone to do his first number, but was joined for most of the rest of the concert by eleven backup musicians (lead guitar, rhythm guitar, bass, keyboard, drums, two violins, a cello, a trombone, a trumpet, and sax). The repertoire ranged from a capella traditional Irish folk songs to his own compositions to punchy rhythm and blues. (The blues orientation of some of the show reminded me at times of the movie "The Commitments," which Hansard, I just discovered, also had a role in. The highlights of the show, from my point of view, were his versions of his own song "Her Mercy" and Marvin Gaye's "Baby Don't Do It." These video versions don't quite capture the excitement of the live performance, but they give a flavor, and some sense of Hansard's delivery:

One of the tech enhancements that added to the concert was the light show, which was carefully coordinated with the instrumentation, and dramatically very effective, especially on the big power blues/rock numbers. I was impressed with the ambition of the show and the style with which it was carried off. What's perhaps most amazing is that Hansard at age 44 shows no signs of flagging. He went on at 9:15 and finished up after 11:30 after a five-song encore. It was a nonstop performance of amazing intensity and energy. I don't know how he does it.

64 x 10 (x 26 x (sort of) 2)

An arc of unease

Bends across

Caverns. Small birds

Dart from corners.

Erratic dreams.

Fearful eyes

Glow  from

Hot gables.

Impossible having

Just blind intuitions. We

Know that our journey

Leads to karmic

Mediation, leaving

No mistaking

Our next

Posting: no

Question of

Reprieve. Quite

Silently now the restless

Toucans skitter

Under Towering

Volcanoes, using

What vision they have

(X-ray?) to avoid

Zombie Apocalypse.

Process Reflection: You can see what I was fooling around with. Just another day in Reno, Nebraska. Yes, I know. Whatever.

64 x 9 (Recommended Reading)

I'm reading Rebecca Mead's My Life in Middlemarch and finding it—to use an old-fashioned word not meant to be dismissive or patronizing—charming. Mead has read and re-read Eliot throughout her life, and her book is part memoir, part literary criticism, part biography, part travelogue, and part personal reflection. All of it is thought-provoking, well-written, and surprisingly fun to read. Check it out.

64 x 8 (Thinking II)

The deepest and most powerful thinking of which we are capable takes place without our explicit knowledge in areas of the brain not subject to our conscious direction or control, and that therefore we must make an effort to regularly engage in what might be called non-thinking, the emptying of the mind, in order that new, more spontaneous thoughts may arise unbidden from within.

64 x 7 (Thinking I)

Asked what aspects of thinking are most central or valuable, I'd say the ability to keep an open mind, especially about things you may already believe to be true or false; the inclination to ask good questions and really listen to the answers; the flexibility to shift your point of view when you're stuck; and the humility to realize that truth is never singular.

Process Reflection: Trying to mold these thoughts into a single sentence of exactly 64 words was both more labor intensive and more revelatory than I had thought it would be. I've been toying with the idea of doing some writing about thinking again. As a result of the years I spent in dialogue with the Critical Thinking group at Punahou, with my CT classes, and with the Institute for Critical Thinking, it's a subject I've had more direct experience with than most. But it's been a while since I've re-visited the subject. If I were to give myself the exact same assignment again I suspect I would not come up with exactly the same answer. In fact, I'm inclined, as an exercise in lateral thinking and the shifting of my own point of view, to set myself the exact same assignment again under the condition that I have to come up with a completely different answer that will also be, if not "true," at least plausible. So that will be, with luck and the blessing, be the next post.

64 x 6 (We Do Now)

Across the blank paper

The pen tip carves

A trail, here certain,

Here hesitant. The line

has its own life:

the hand its father,

the eye its mother,

impulse its deep yearning,

movement its only voice

or gesture. Having begun,

there's no turning back.

Water carves the canyon;

swallows sweep the skies.

None of us knew

At the start where

The story would end.