Winter Still Bites

Just heard a man was killed in Central Park by a falling tree limb. Yikes, it is the second time in less than a year. I love the winter and all the snow, but this is a little ridiculous. Hope everyone makes it home safely tonight. Keep warm. Blessings upon you! News from the front is that I am very close to completing a second book of poems. Very different from the last collection. I will let you all know when it comes out.

Love Mark

New Book/New Music

I am working on stuff...I visited Davey in Vermont last month and recorded some old songs. Nowhere near done, I am now working on my second book of poetry...but the real exciting news is that my wife...soon to be Dr. Jennifer-Scott Mobley...has a date set to defend her dissertation. The road has been long and the work one of passion and love. My wife is so well read, she has seen more and done more than any one I know, I am in awe of her accomplishment. She inspires me, without her I don't think I would have published a book of poetry, or continue to work on my music, or ever dream of acting on stage again. I truly look forward to the coming months when she achieves what has been long delayed for one reason or another. I am proud of her and what she has accomplished.

Paul is doing well. While not exactly cancer-free, his tumor has reduced in size since completing his chemo-therapy. He is still very much in our thoughts and meditations (prayers too!) Happy Valentines Day every one!

Valentine?

For what is a heart…?
but a couple of question marks?

One straight forward
One reversed
The second joined
To the front of the first

And what is Love
But the space between
That infinitesimal universe
Inner space of dreams

Tom

Tom had been a fixture on Court Street since we moved here from Wyckoff Street in 2002. He never smoked or drank as far as I could tell. He loved the Yankees and if there was a game on he knew the score. I asked Tom once what his story was. He told me: "Well, Mark, the guy who had this spot before me left. So I took it over." That was my last attempt at a serious conversation about who he was and where he came from, or how he came to be the guy just standing outside the deli, but most days Tom was always there with a smile and a thumbs up. A usual exchange would be like this: "How you doin' Tom?"... "Hello Mark, not bad for a Wednesday," followed by a fist bump and a comment on the weather, the Yankees or the news on the street. Tom was the one who described for us in detail what happened the night of the fire in 240 Court. He was not homeless though I don't know where he lived. He was not destitute, though he never refused a sandwich from Louie at SAM'S, or a couple of bucks from me. He helped us with our groceries, he watched the meter for our cars, he opened the door on the deli entrance, he stood out there most evenings from around five to midnight everyday, rain, shine, hazy, hot, humid, or bitter, freezing cold. He was part of this hood. Some of my favorite exchanges with him were when I would pass by and others were talking with him about this or that as he stood or sat on that blue metal box. People loved him. He had big, kind eyes and a wide grin spread from under a wiry mustache. When I noted his absence shortly after Christmas I felt something was amiss. Then we saw the memorial and heard from Brenda across the street at Ruben's Liquor store where he often bought his lottery tickets, that Tom had stomach cancer and passed away. So, just to repeat:

We Love You Tom, you will be missed.

Happy New Year

Christmas in Virginia with Jeff and Sue, Sea and Dom was a respite from the stone and steel of New York City. The only gunshots we heard were from duck hunters in Williamsburg. It was good to feel the muddy earth underfoot in Palmyra.

Meadowood was a particularly moving experience as Sea and Dom are nearing completion of the "Studio" for the creation of art and all that entails. We are reflecting on the decade. The start of it found me adrift in a sea of humanity with no compass. I had met Jennifer and we began our way out of the madness together, meeting many fellow travelers along the way, people who are near and dear to us today, yet mostly unknown to us ten years ago. Those of you who are our oldest friends have witnessed the collective changes. We have grown, our wisdom deepened, our understanding expanded, our compassion realized in ways we could only imagine. We made a commitment to each other and to ourselves, and to you our friends and family, to make a difference in the world for the good of all. This effort is an attempt to balance a world seemingly so one-sided with evil. May whatever God you pray to bless you and help us heal the sick, enrich the poor, and find the forsaken. Happy 2010.

"To the Stuff in the Studio"

Work
Is a curiously versatile
Word

Meaning not only
The physical exertion required
To put something together,
Like a peppery arugula salad
With quartered tomato and shaved
Parmesan

Or take something apart,
Like an old pine car shed,

Or to move something from
one place to another
Like a cairn of sandstone, or a mountain, or an old chair
Across town
But also

The final product of that labor

Work
Here to fore eternal
Versions of unique visions
Of nature's life and
Immense beauty, her
Hallowed mystery
Rendered for all
To share
Forever

Places where this
Work
Takes shape are sacred

And the people who
Perform it

Holy, holy, holy.

Silent Night

There is so much advice my friend Paul, my spiritual brother, has given me over the years. He counseled me against getting tattoos, for example, and I always disagreed with. However, I think he was right in that he made me wait long enough to figure out just what I want permanently inked onto my skin. I don't want some high art or naked women, skulls with cross bones or even a heart that says "Mother". I want the Pythagorean Theorem. I want Pie. I want the mathematical expression for "Bubbles of Perception" inscribed in fiery letters of the Phoenix onto my back. My friend is exploring the spiritual realm, his body so paper thin that if you touch it it may tear. The hope and the prayer is that he has made the choice to stay with us here in the physical world a bit longer and that his rebirth will bring robust life back into his limbs so soon we will be hugging him once more. As light is re-born on the Solstice, so will Rebhan re-emerge from the ashes of Chemo-therapy. The blizzard of '09 has brought a moment of muffled Peace and quiet to our metropolis, reducing us to a compendium of small towns and villages, and households waiting for loved ones to arrive home from work. The chains on snowplow tires ringing like sleigh bells. Happy Solstice every one.

Hubba, Hubba

We had an awesome time at the shoot last Saturday. Nothing went as planned and we still got some awesome shots. Thank you to our lovely models who braved rainy weather and all kinds of setbacks to soldier through with great professional performances. Last weekend was very emotional for me. Shoot on Saturday, work Saturday night...and then to the fond farewell for a man who is no less than my professional father: John "Jack" Meade. I would not be putting food on my table without his influence in my life. He also supported my theatrical ambitions with sincere interest and passion as one who understood the value of the stage and how all the world is one. On this stage Jack is a leading character. A family man, a Union man, and a stand-up guy. I am overwhelmed by his generosity, and his families, to have been invited to say goodbye. This was no tearful wake, but a joyful celebration with a live band and near 200 people.

"It's not how many breaths you take in life, but the moments in life that take your breath away." Jack Meade.

As I left the party, my breath was indeed, taken away at how fortunate I was to have met Jack. I got to tell him and his wife Anna, that I loved them.

The Ace of Pentacles is the foundation for all kinds of projects in the real world; this foundation is as valuable as gold, and as solid as concrete. It is the cornerstone of a building that might stand for decades, or crumble to dust after a few years - this is determined by how the rest of the structure is put together. The Ace of Pentacles is not the promise of long-lasting financial and material security that some might expect, but it is the sign that such things are within your reach. It gives you the resources to go in search of higher goals.


What a challenging weekend is ahead of me. Today a dream is about to come true, a dream of creating the best possible art using the very finest of raw materials. The prospect of once again creating something lasting and meaningful gives my life purpose. And the fact that I can involve the people I love and who love me is the only way for me to get through it. This is how the weekend begins...alas it ends not with a wake, but with a celebration of a man's life. I can not say enough about Jack Meade. He was a guide and mentor to me when I was young and in need of direction. We shared many interests. He showed me that there are men of honor and pride everywhere. He is a father, a husband, a leader whose influence has touched millions, though not many know it. As with my friend Paul getting set to go the fourth and final round of chemo, Jack has given me the tools and inspiration to go forward and deal with a life out of balance and bring some equilibrium into the world. And I am not alone, there is a little card reading angel whispering into my ear: "Look up! The Great Work Begins!" Thank you Mystical Marcy! I am present to the possibilities.





"The verb "to temper" means to modify or strengthen by adding a new component to an existing substance or mixture, and this broad definition can be applied to many areas of your life. But all applications of Temperance share the common theme of moderation and balance, culminating in the creation of a centered and well-rounded being."