Meditate on the Self.
One without two,
Give up the illusion
Of the separate self.
Give up the feeling,
Within or without,
That you are this or that.
--Ashtavakra Gita 1:13
Witnessed some interesting things over the weekend.
Played a show on Saturday, which was not so much a gig as a good friend's birthday party. All day I had been in a mood. It was the hormonally-induced mania that happens to me every month about a week before my period. I become physically exhausted, gloomy beyond reason, paranoid--I feel like I have no skin, just raw viscera and nerves loosely encased in tissue paper...and that tissue paper's about to bust, so don't come near me...
Anyway, that's the mood I brought with me to this party, right up to show time. Right, in fact, up through the first two songs or so, and then: whomp! something about the adrenalin of playing, or the healing power of music, or the warmth of the crowd, or the love of my friends, or the grace of Dionysus, but suddenly I felt great. Still skinless, but in a good way, like there's nothing separating me from all the love and good things in the world, or at least in Brooklyn.
And I was able to enjoy that feeling all through Sunday. I needed it, cuz I went to a family party out in Jersey and it was a really mirthless affair. The only people having a good time were the kids playing on the dinky, 99-cent-store version of the Slip-n-Slide, and some of them even looked angstful.
On the way back I stopped in at Cookie's so she could show me the dresses she borrowed for a movie premiere she's attending. I got to vote for which dress she should wear. I voted for the beaded Bill Blass with the poofy tulle skirt, because really, what else are you going to wear on the red carpet?
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