This is one of my favorite dishes from Tamil Nadu – a simple stew, really, but with these delightfully unplaceable flavors from the combination of spices and leaves. Serve it as a soup if you wish; however, the classic accompaniments would be rice and gram bean idli in the morning, or dosa in the evening. …
We ate little at Ramana Maharshi’s ashram: certainly little compared to the standard American Diet. Steamed, fermented rice cake (which I grew to adore and now make at home); a splash of some pulse – a lentil or a dal; a dusting of some spice, poured over a plate of sewn leaves. That was breakfast, …
I returned late last night from the annual Dance New England summer camp near Lake Ossipee in New Hampshire, and woke this morning with dancing tape still on a couple of toes, the echo of taut and trained muscle still in the sinews, and the ache of separation from that vibrant and affectionate community of dancers already wringing out …
I. Our Daily Dance The waning moon has this hour turned above the crowns of trees, and spilled its liquid light into the yard. So this evening is accompanied by a shadow of sun's heat. The same moon that years and years ago was torn from earth's belly, born from her and borne away …
Flying out of the east in splendor the silver beauty of the wings, oh beauty poised and driving like twin knives, and all those migratory lives depending, as it happened, on the magic of rivets and steel webs and pilots immune to fear — so be …
Certas canções – Milton Nascimento Certas canções que ouço cabem tão dentro de mim que perguntar carece como não fui eu que fiz? Certa emoção me alcança corta-me a alma sem dor certas canções me chegam como se fosse o amor Contos da água e do fogo cacos de vidas no chão cartas do sonho …
Nick Van Alstine, 1982-2010 There's a shout from the water: a man is struggling with the current, his mouth fills as he goes under. He clears the surface, spits out salt, finds clean air, gasps it in, shouts again. He is drowning. He knows it. His voice leans out in all directions, asks …
As metaphor (if you will) in the ancient system of Indian chakras, we humans wander through our days – some due east or due west, others in a sinuous trail to all the compass points – with a multiplicity of selves, meeting each event with मूलाधार survival instinct, स्वाधिष्ठान creative drive, मणिपूर reaching willpower, अनाहत passion and love, विशुद्ध communication …
uma palavra balançou na ponta da língua falada, calada, falada, calada batuque rítmo de coração será que este por do sol seja à medida do seu nascer? o menino enraizado só (arvore-gurí, criança-flor) se sente o peso diferente nas almas dos seus pés; de cima, entretanto sol é sol até o día em que sangue …
Leaning back into the sofa, the leather cushions gave themselves to her head and neck, like two hands receiving, gently laying her down. She drew a full breath, exhaled part of the day, and her limbs relaxed. When I close my eyes, this parade, she thinks. Parade or surrealist painting. That beautiful girl in my …
Plum was heaven Plum was stem Until the season’s turn And early rain’s intention Until the bud’s desire Until the blossom-burst Until bee pollen-scattering And Sun’s divine attention The fruit imagination Until its flesh uncovered Until its curve encountered The touch of tongue and teeth Until the sweet surrender Its sugar-water tendered …
The warung was four walls and a roof, twelve tables and a door, twenty-four slight and elegant locals, one pallid westerner, and me. The walls weren't really walls, as we would imagine them in Europe or the States: what would they keep out? Woven bamboo that allowed light to escape and the afternoon breeze to enter, allowed the quiet …