2014 Pulitzer Prize winner- John Luther Adams for his composition- Become Ocean. 

"My hope is that the music creates a strange, beautiful, overwhelming - sometimes even frightening - landscape, and invites you to get lost in it." —John Luther Adams

Tags: music


  by Vijay Seshadri

We hold it against you that you survived.
People better than you are dead,
but you still punch the clock.
Your body has wizened but has not bled

its substance out on the killing floor
or flatlined in intensive care
or vanished after school
or stepped off the ledge in despair.

Of all those you started with,
only you are still around;
only you have not been listed with 
the defeated and the drowned.

So how could you ever win our respect?--
you, who had the sense to duck,
you, with your strength almost intact
and all your good luck.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16670#sthash.TRqxBp2L.dpuf

Lost without you, can’t help myself. How does it feel to know that I love you, baby?

Marcus Miller

Hate Does That

"Hate does that. Burns off everything but itself, so whatever your grievance is, your face looks just like your enemy’s."

- Love, Toni Morrison

Hate is such a hard emotion. It certainly comes naturally to us. We don’t usually have to work very hard to hate others. But it’s also such a destructive emotion. You do damage to your own soul when you hate others. The only way to combat hate is to remember how God so freely loved us while we were his enemies and then give that same love to others- even those who are against you. 

But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.”

Luke 6:35

I Cannot Do This Alone

O God, early in the morning I cry to you.
Help me to pray
And to concentrate my thoughts on you;
I cannot do this alone.

In me there is darkness,
But with you there is light;
I am lonely, but you do not leave me;
I am feeble in heart, but with you there is help;
I am restless, but with you there is peace.
In me there is bitterness, but with you there is patience;
I do not understand your ways,
But you know the way for me… .
Restore me to liberty,
And enable me to live now
That I may answer before you and before men.
Lord, whatever this day may bring,
Your name be praised. Amen.
—Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Germany/1906–1945)


I don’t believe we’re responsible for who we attract, but who we choose to pursue a relationship with is a reflection of how we see ourselves. Feeling worthy of an equal partnership doesn’t come naturally to some of us. Certainly not for me. I can, however, feel the change slowly and surely. As I discover my private power, I’m no longer content with settling in any area of my life: not for a man, a job, or a friend.

The Beauty of Self-Preservation: Learning When to Walk Away

There are so many things about the above article that I could have written myself. I’m not referring to the part where she says that she feels the need to help men with problems because she’s a Pisces. I know that I felt that way because I’m just naturally a nurturer. I was attracted to the man with the most problems because I wanted to help him help himself. 

But I do identify with her desire to help her man work through his childhood pain and see him thrive. I get her anxiety over how entrenched in his ways he is despite how they are hurting him. I empathize with her feeling unworthy of equal partnership. 

As it turns out you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to change. You can’t want it more than them. In the end their problems become your problems, the relationship is unbalanced and unhealthy, and you are left unhappy. 

I chose a road of passion and pain.

Sacrificed too much and waited in vain. 

-Lauryn Hill, I Used to Love Him

 Each woman will deal with this differently. Some will choose to be strong and stay while still finding a way to protect themselves. Some women will choose to be strong and leave, deciding that the only way to protect themselves is to end it altogether. Either way, there will probably need to be distance of some kind created whether it’s physical, emotional or both. 

In the end, freedom is a beautiful and God-given gift. 

Lauryn says it best: 

Father you saved me and showed me that life
Was much more than being some foolish man’s wife
Showed me that love was respect and devotion
Greater than planets deeper than oceans
My soul was weary but now it’s replenished
Content because that part of my life is finished


I would not wish

Any companion in the world but you.


— Miranda in The Tempest by Shakespeare, Act 3, scene 1

"We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves."

— Francois De La Rochefoucauld


In truth we never talk about a book unto itself; a whole set of books always enters the discussion through the portal of a single title, which serves as a temporary symbol for a complete conception of culture. In every such discussion, our inner libraries — built within us over the years and housing all our secret books — come into contact with the inner libraries of others, potentially provoking all manner of friction and conflict.

For we are more than simple shelters for our inner libraries; we are the sum of these accumulated books. Little by little, these books have made us who we are, and they cannot be separated from us without causing us suffering.


— Pierre Bayard, Professor of French Literature at the University of Paris

Surprised by Joy

"I turned to share the transport…" Oh, how awful is that moment when you want to share something with someone you love; something that you normally would have told only them or at least them first only to realize that you can no longer share anything with them. Maybe they have passed away like Wordsworth’s daughter or maybe they are just gone from your life but that moment seems to come more than once and brings deep grief for those who experience it. Wordsworth says, "how could I forget thee? Through what power…" It would be a welcome relief to forget sometimes but, in a way, there is also beauty in the remembering, painful though it may be.This is an important poem both for its intense emotion and lyrical power.

Surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport—Oh! with whom
But Thee, long buried in the silent Tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind—
But how could I forget thee?—Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss!—That thought’s return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

William Wordsworth

This poem by Rita Dove tells the story of dictator Rafael Trujillo and how he executed thousands of Haitians in the Dominican Republic. In order to decide who would be executed, he had them say the word perejil which is Spanish for parsley. If they rolled the R correctly, they were considered to be native Afro-Dominicans and were allowed to live. However, if they did not roll the R, it was determined that they were Haitian immigrants (Haitians spoke French Creole) and they would be executed.

Dove read this poem at the White House and I find the last line to be devastatingly sad and yet beautifully written. 

He will order many, this time, to be killed

for a single, beautiful word.”
"This new life doesn’t seek to etherize us but to make us fully alive in that living, and even in our inevitable dying. And then, as if that were not enough, it promises us to yet live, truly, again, forever."

— Surprised by Oxford, Carolyn Weber

"The ocean is my man now. He knows when to rear and hump his back, when to be quiet and simply watch a woman. He can be devious, but he’s not a false-hearted man. His soul is deep down there and suffering. I pay attention and know all about him….
I can watch my man from the porch. In the evening mostly, but sunrise too, when I need to see his shoulders collared with seafoam. There used to be white wicker chairs out here where pretty women drank iced tea with a drop of Jack Daniel’s or Cutty Sark in it. Nothing left now, so I sit on the steps or lean my elbows on the railings. If I’m real still and listening carefully I can hear his voice. You’d think with all that strength, he’d be a bass. But, no. My man is a tenor."

— A beautiful quote by Toni Morisson in her novel, Love.


Confession: I adore Children’s Literature. Adore it! As a matter of fact, one of the best things about being a mother is having an excuse to read lots of books written for children. One of the books quoted here is Where the Wild Things Are. I just read this book to my little boys last night and we each chose our favorite part. This was mine:

"Max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of his very own room where he found his supper waiting for him and it was still hot."

Click the link above to read Barnes and Noble’s choices for the 10 most devastating lines in Children’s Literature. 

Illusion painting by Daniel Siering and Mario Shu.

To create the illusion that this tree has been cut in half, the artists wrapped the tree in plastic and then used spray paint to match it to the background. Very cool.

See more photos here.