Standing sentry at the entrance to the Copley Fairmont in Boston’s stately Copley Square, this golden lion has been greeting visitors with nobility and grace for as long as I can remember. Lions are plentiful in Boston, and I love spotting them scattered throughout buildings and architecture, from the top of the Old State House to the pair of peaceful stone giants framing the staircase of the Boston Public Library. There are less famous lions, and one of my favorites is in this front corner of a private residence in the South End.
All of these lions remain stoic and silent, a lesson in stillness and power. While the winter rages and the summer burns, they stand unbothered and unburdened by the maelstrom around them. In that respect, I long to be like these lions.
Troye Sivan has been featured as a Dazzler of the Day in this post from a couple of years ago, so today’s feature is just a little form of further appreciation for their talents. Unsure of whether they’re the new official face/body of Calvin Klein, perhaps this should be an official audition in the event that they’re not.
Most of us know Nick Offerman as a force of sly, comedic genius, but that doesn’t always translate to remarkable dramatic work, as many actors have proven over the years. His recent turn on that episode of ‘The Last of Us’ has proved a veritable revelation, illuminating the sublime talent that has been at the heart of Offerman’s career. (His tender rendition of ‘Long Long Time’ is already one of the most riveting moment of television I’ve ever watched.)
“It was an honor for me to present Kim Petras and Sam Smith at the Grammys. I wanted to give away the final award which was album of the year, but I thought it was more important that I introduce the first transgender woman to perform at the Grammys – a history making moment!! And she won a Grammy too! Instead of focusing on what I said in my speech thanking artists like Sam and Kim for their fearlessness, many people chose to only talk about close-up photos of me taken with a long lens camera who would distort anyone’s face by a press photographer!! Once again I am caught in the vortex of ageism and misogyny that pervades the world we live in. A world that refuses to celebrate women who have hit 45 and feel the need to punish them if they remain strong, willing, hardworking, and adventurous. I’ve never apologized for any creative choices I’ve made or the way I dress or look and I won’t start. I’ve been degraded by the media since the beginning of my career, but I understand that it’s all a test and I’m happy to be pioneering in that field too so that all the women behind me have an easier future. As Beyonce would say you won’t break my soul I’m looking forward to many more years of subversive behaviors, pushing boundaries, facing the patriarchy and most of all, enjoying my life. Bow down my bitches!” ~ Madonna
This is that miserable time of the year when any and all sorts of trickery to get through the winter are actively employed, such as in this spur-of-the-moment lavender mocktail. (Lavender is all the rage these days.) I squeezed a bunch of limes and a lemon to form the tart base, then tempered it with some sweet lavender syrup, and added some mint seltzer to top it off. (The latter was just some plain seltzer that I let sit with a few bags of mint tea submerged.) It was an ode to summer – when all those ingredients would be in ready and happy supply, some of which could be culled directly from the garden in the case of the lavender and mint.
I added some vodka to the proceedings for our recent dinner guests, so it can be made however you want or desire – for me, the vodka wasn’t missed, as it was the flavor that brought me back to those sunny days. Garnished with twists of lemon and lime, it was a little reminder that summer will return.
When I meditate, I hold this specimen in my hand. It takes up the full palm, and it is heavy and substantial. It is a grounding totem, literally and figuratively, and though I don’t place much actual faith in the power of crystals, I do believe there’s something to the practice if you truly believe. In other words, if we think that holding a certain stone will lead to something (in the case of rose quartz, it is said to emit vibrations conducive to love, joy, and healing) perhaps it’s not the stone working some sort of magical spell and more a case of we as humans manifesting those things through intention and unconscious propulsion toward those states.
Practically, it is a focal point for my meditations – an object I can hold in my hand and feel whenever the mind starts wandering. Sometimes, a simple and singular focus is all one needs to keep a meditation on track and achieve that slightly-absent-minded state of blankness and stillness and peace.
Rose quartz is also imbued with some happy memories for me. It was an early gift from Andy, when we were first dating, given as much to symbolize our love as it was for its healing aspects. Whenever I had doubts or worries, I’d hold onto that stone and work to calm my heart and quell my anxiety. Was it the stone working its power or was it my intention bringing it to fruition? Who can say and why does it matter? It brought me peace then, and it brings me peace now.
“The purpose of art is to lay bare the questions that have been hidden by the answers.” ~ James Baldwin
For twenty years, this website has spilled my personal tea, while occasionally commenting on pop culture, LGBTQ+ culture, Madonna culture, and often nothing cultural at all. In preparing for its 20th anniversary (coming in March!) I’ve been going through some previous posts and found a few that I feel are worth sharing again. Pull up a chair, plop down on the couch, or go full tilt back on the bed and see if anything sounds interesting. I’m putting on a pot of tea and getting cozy and comfortable with this spot of ‘Tea for Two’ as we take a little trip down memory lane…
Those links go back many years, and much of this website gets lost and buried in the passage of time. Here are a few more that have been posted more recently, because it’s usually more interesting to deal in the here and now than the past and previous.
We have made it to the last full month of winter, and this recap straddles the only months that contain winter in their entirety – next month contains the first few days of spring, so let that inspire you to carry on through the next couple of weeks. Yesterday brought a Full Snow Moon, which I and several friends and family have been feeling for longer than a day. Let’s push forward through this winter – on with the recap.
Several years ago I was introduced to the music of Max Richter, and since then it has enriched my more contemplative moments, providing an extension of the miraculous sense of stillness somehow rife with movement. Not unlike the gorgeousness of the work of Philip Glass, its richness is in its layers and motifs, holding the breath and soul still when all the world wants to do is rush and rattle. The title of this post gets its name from the piece below, which was used to sublime effect in that heartbreaking episode of ‘The Last of Us’ that everyone is talking about.
The repetitive undulation at work here works in a meditative fashion, lulling the listener into a sense of peace, and calming the restless wanderings of the mind. It’s more difficult to tame the heart, but this can work on that as well if we let it. Some people take issue with the repetition – I find it comforting, and the ultimate illustration of the human spirit: no matter how many times we get beaten down, no matter how many times we get disappointed, we keep coming back for more, we keep getting up and trying again. There is nothing more human than that, and in our efforts I find grace and humility and love.
There have been moments when I’ve wanted to give up on us as a species, when I watch the news and see how awful humans can be to one another, but eventually and always they are supplanted by a story or a thread of hope in some small act of goodness one of us has done for another, and I find the fight to keep going, to keep trying, to keep living and doing some little bit of goodness in return.
Fresh off what is already being called the most powerful hour of television this year in ‘The Last of Us’ – Episode 3, Murray Bartlett is no surprise or revelation to those of us who have been admiring him for years. His riveting turn in the first season of ‘The White Lotus’ was responsible for putting it on the map just as much as Jennifer Coolidge, and his appearance on ‘The Last of Us’ is one of a long line of memorable performances. Now he can add Dazzler of the Day to his ever-expanding pantheon of accomplishments.
The unexamined life is not worth living, or so some say. At this point, for those of us who may have lived out at least half of our lives, we might feel as if we’ve examined things enough. There comes a time when one must take a chance and simply live – in and for the moment, without consideration of danger or risk or worry. A moment of pause, in a sense, without planning or plotting or considering every possible outcome. There are certainly situations when those actions are vital, but not all the time. I’m looking into letting things go and existing in the moment, something that never came easy for my Virgo nature. Some of us are simply more comfortable with a schedule and a plan, but there are things we miss in the minute-to-minute planning, and these last few years I’ve been working on finding the magic missed.
It coincides with allowing imperfection and the idea of ‘good-enough’ into my mode of living, and letting go of the need to seek perfection and the unattainable goal of ‘just right’. To those ends, some progress has been made. The terror and discomfort I felt at first has been supplanted by an ease and joy that has helped make up for the wretched awfulness that real life has thrown at all of us in these last couple of years. Aging parents, a worldwide pandemic, and the financial strains we’re all facing have conspired to challenge many of us. Maybe it’s just the typical move into crotchety-old-man territory, but I don’t remember when I’ve felt so disheartened or disappointed with the world as a whole. Thankfully, my friends and family lift and buoy my spirits whenever I veer too cynical or pessimistic. I also assume this is what getting older does to everyone – it reveals the ugly truth about things that we could afford to ignore or pretend away in our youth. If we were very lucky, and I believe I have been, we may not have even had to ignore it – it simply was, in our ignorant appraisal, a better and easier time. Still, I wouldn’t trade what little I know now for all my ignorant bliss before.
And so I work to embrace the downward slope that cresting over the hump of middle-age is bringing into accelerated view. Taking breaks from the intensive self-analysis and reflection that has typically populated this site should make for more interesting posts and varied content. After twenty years, it’s about damn time.
If ever the weather cried out for a moment of hygge, this is that ever. While I was at the office yesterday, I watched the temperature slowly tick down through the single digits. Outside the sun was strong, but I wasn’t falling for it; you could hear the wind rushing by the windows. As the afternoon progressed, the wind chill temperature tumbled further. This, at long last, was the proper upstate NY winter we’d not yet had. No one asked for it, no one wanted it, but I can’t complain if it chose to wait until February to arrive. So long as it doesn’t linger…
It puts me in the mind for hygge – so I have stayed close to home today, lighting candles and cooking some kimchi fried rice for tomorrow. Writing blog posts like this, and doing some reading (currently I’m enjoying ‘Braiding Sweetgrass’ by Robin Wall Kimmerer, comprised the bulk of the day, in between cups of hot tea and a meditation at some point. This is winter – harsh outside, soft inside.
Known best as the ‘Plant Kween’, Christopher Griffin is a fellow doting and adoring plant parent. Their brilliantly-titled growing guide, “You Grow, Gurl!” is available online here. It goes a little deeper than most plant guides, tying in a healthy and celebratory thread of self-care to go with the greenery. Griffin’s book page puts it much better than I just did:
“Self-care takes many forms and tending to your plants’ needs helps you grow too. In addition to information and advice on plant care, Kween provides meditations, mindfulness activities, playlists, and more to help you practice self-care through plant-care. As Kween says, “We can learn a lot about how we treat ourselves, how we treat others, and how we navigate the world from these green lil creatures.”
Healing and growing your heart, body, and soul takes time, love, and focus. Taking care of plants teaches you to apply that same attention and love to yourself and helps you find new pathways to explore on your own botanical adventure to self-love.”
On this wintry day, Griffin is named Dazzler of the Day for bringing us the green, the growth, and the reminder to take care of ourselves.
This is my winter song to you. The storm is coming soon, It rolls in from the sea
My voice; a beacon in the night. My words will be your light, To carry you to me.
This is a cute one, with a cute video. As much as I’ve been trying to make a certain peace with winter, there are still days, when the morning is especially dim and frigid, that it gets to me, and brings me down a bit. Shivering in our attic loft, I look out the window and down into our little side-yard. It is my secret space in summer – hidden from the main backyard patio and pool area by an archway of coral-bark maple and the papery, peeling trunks of the seven sons’ flower tree, and blocked off from the front yard by a wooden fence and arbor covered in a climbing hydrangea.
I remember that scene now, as I look onto the top of our grill covered in snow, and a pair of chairs equally obscured. It is only slightly sad, because I know what’s underneath it all; I remember. In a few months, the spikes of the fountain bamboo will slowly appear, and if we’re lucky, and the rabbits haven’t eaten them again, the stems that carried over from last year will leaf out and begin their graceful arching. The fiddleheads of the Dixie fern will unravel their hairy coils, joined soon by the more delicate unfurling of the Japanese painted ferns. A lilac tree – offspring of a plant that Andy’s Mom left him over twenty years ago – will lift up its branches and offer bouquets of heavy and fragrant blooms, bringing them almost to the window of the attic, from which I lean out and breathe in, hoping to catch some of the perfume on the wind. All of this will come again, I remind myself.
I still believe in summer days. The seasons always change And life will find a way.
I’ll be your harvester of light And send it out tonight So we can start again.
Thoughts of summer days are good, especially if one can merge them with an appreciation of winter as it unfolds around us. I’m working on enjoying the moment, while holding the sunny thoughts in my head. Somewhere far ahead a sense of Zen barely looms – happily, elusively, tantalizingly out of reach – ever out of reach, and may it remain that way so the journey never ends.
This is my winter song to you. The storm is coming soon It rolls in from the sea.
My love a beacon in the night. My words will be your light To carry you to me.
