Art to Heal Your Heart
What I'm Listening To:
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, Magic
Cafe Tacuba, Sino
KT Tunstall, Eye to the Telescope
Manu Chao, La Radiolina
Robert Plant and Alison Krause, Raising Sand
Rickie Lee Jones, The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard

All of these CDs, by the way, will heal your heart.

It's so dark out there. I woke up feeling it, maybe because the storm is coming to Naperville. Rain all night, which is a good thing--if you saw your aol news page this morning, you saw that the USA is running out of water. Yeah, man--Georgia: dry. The West: dry. Great Lakes: dropping. The New York Times did a long piece in their Sunday magazine about the mighty Colorado running down, unable to reach peak flow--ever again.

As if there isn't enough horror to go around. Take your pick of sorrows: Iraq, Iran, immigration, fires, mortgage melt downs, WWIII, water, global warming, bees goign extinct, primates facing extinction, the ice cap...I could list the nightmares all day long. Remember Darfur? Remember AIDS? Remember the Congo? How about New Orleans? How about the reappearance of racial nooses in America? How about Israel/Palestine? How about the women killing in Juarez? How about MRSA? How about bird flu? How about SARS? How about....

Crikey, mate, that's a cranky goanna. The world's just aching. Bad. Got a septic tooth ace, and the poison's going to get to the brain sooner or later.

I'm tired, and, as always, I embrace the pathetic fallacy. (Grace and Clarke wrote that theyw ant to make t-shirts! I'd buy one.) I want to believe my birch tree is expressing joy and sorrow as its leaves turn and fall. I want to think my visiting turkey means well when he runs across the yard to stare at me. I want to solve the algebra of pain.

So, I'm adding an occasional feature to the blog, as if I need another project. But along with the Immigration MOndays and the recurring Writer's Meditations, I want to offer you Art to Heal Your Heart. Not Chicken Soup for the Urrea Fan's Soul. Egad, man! Steady on! No. But real, good, soul-feeding, sweet-smelling, bracing, companionship art. Healing. Teresita style work on the big bad problem.

Stuff to make you feel better as you make it through your difficult day--because all days, along with being blessings and carnivals, are difficult. I'm not trying to be a mush-brain. But I am throwing out life rings.

Start with the CDs, above. Yes! Uplift! If Manu Chao doesn't make your tailfeather shake and your eyes brighten, then I can't help you.

Next entry: good books.

Pax vobiscum,
Reverand Luis

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