A Young Poet’s Love Letter to Earth and to the Double Courage of Facing a Broken Reality While Refusing to Cease Cherishing This Astonishing World in Its Brokenness
To make anything — a photograph, a theorem, a poem — is to toss a handful of wildflower seeds into the wind, knowing neither the type of soil they will land in, nor the location of the landscape, nor the type of flowers that will bloom. Sometimes, oftentimes, the seeds come abloom generations or civilizations later, in minds many disciplines or cultures or experiences apart. (For, lest we forget, all that survives of us are shoreless seeds and stardust.)
In the spring of 2018, shortly after Stephen Hawking returned his borrowed stardust to the cosmos, poet Marie Howe composed a poem inspired by his life’s work, a stunning poem about our cosmic inter-belonging, for the second Universe in Verse — the annual celebration of science through poetry I host at Pioneer Works in Brooklyn. She titled it “Singularity (after Stephen Hawking)” and premiered it before a rapt audience of a thousand people suspended in wonder. The bit-blown wind then carried it to thousands more online. It has since came alive anew in a consummate animated short film savored by tens of thousands more.
In the spring of 2020, Howe’s poem planted its seed in the fertile mind of the young Kentucky-born, Brooklyn-based poet Marissa Davis and came abloom in a stunning poem of her own, which she titled “Singularity (after Marie Howe)” and premiered in poem-a-day — the lifeline of a newsletter by the Academy of American Poets.
I was so taken with the sweep and splendor of Davis’s quiet cataclysm of a poem that I invited her to read it for Brain Pickings, which she kindly did — a lovely voice that surprised and invigorated me with its audible youth, only amplifying the poem’s atmosphere of possibility and its wondrous, defiant commitment neither to look away from a broken reality nor to cease cherishing this astonishing world in its brokenness.
Relish more of Davis’s poetry in her chapbook My Name & Other Languages I Am Learning How to Speak and join me in supporting the life-giving work of the Academy of American Poets, offering stage and succor to young poets like Davis, then revisit the splendid seed that inspired this miraculous blossom.
All Human Beings: Eleanor Roosevelt’s Reading of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Reimagined as a Soulful Serenade to Diversity and Dignity by Composer Max Richter
“Love is the only way to rescue humanity from all ills,” Leo Tolstoy wrote to Mahatma Gandhi in the stirring correspondence that would unspool over four decades until Gandhi’s assassination in 1948. By then, Gandhi had been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize five times, including days before his death. That year, the Nobel Committee awarded all other disciplines except the Peace Prize, for which they found “no suitable living candidate.”
On December 10, 1948 — the day of the Nobel ceremony in Stockholm — the United Nations General Assembly gathered in Paris to adopt the most visionary, idealistic, and poetic document ever composed: The Universal Declaration of Human Rights. A pioneering effort to standardize the raising of conscience, kindness, and reason above self-interest and the hunger for power, it was the culmination of two years of systematic refinement by a global drafting committee of eight men from five continents, chaired by Eleanor Roosevelt (October 11, 1884–November 7, 1962), with her floral dresses and her “spine as stiff as the steel girder of a skyscraper.”
Roosevelt’s nomination as a U.N. delegate had had to pass through the United States Senate for approval, where she suspected certain conservative Senators would disapprove — “because of my attitude toward social problems,” she later reflected, “and especially youth problems.” But her nomination was heartily approved — only one Senator voted against her, citing her troublesome devotion to racial equality.
Shortly before her U.N. nomination and shortly after the end of WWII, Roosevelt — another indefensible blind spot in the Nobel Commission’s dispensation of the Peace Prize — had lost her husband. In the thick of her bereavement, she wrote in her daybook:
She coped by pouring her indefatigable energy into drafting this buoyant document aimed at protecting human beings from the sorrows they inflict upon one another. Later, she would look back on her life with the unwavering conviction that “in the long run there is no more liberating, no more exhilarating experience than to determine one’s position, state it bravely, and then act boldly.” Now, she was tasked with creating the blueprint for bold action toward justice, contoured with bravely stated words.
She insisted that the document be adopted as a declaration rather than as a treaty, hoping this would confer upon it the inspiriting power to do for the world what the Declaration of Independence had done for her homeland. And so it did: Despite the abiding challenge of our species — the unhandsome fact that there is no universal utopia and that all utopias are built on someone’s subjugation-bent back — the document that emerged became a beacon of justice for generations to come, founded upon the conviction that a “recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world,” radiating Maya Angelou’s stunning lyric insistence that “we are the possible, we are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world.”
Translated into more than 500 languages, making it the world’s most translated document, the UDHR went on to shape myriad national and international laws, inspire the constitutions of various newborn countries, and furnish the legal definitions of “fundamental freedoms” and “human rights.” Buried into the language of the document is also a landmark unsexing of man as the universal pronoun (though it would take many more decades to seep into culture) — the trailblazing Indian activist, writer, and feminist Hansa Jivraj Mehta suggested replacing “all men are equal” with “all are equal.”
Today, as we come to see ourselves as Angelou saw us — creatures “whose hands can strike with such abandon that in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness” — some of the articles in the declaration read both as chilling indictments of where we have fallen short and as a defiantly aspirational blueprint for where we can and must go as we rise to our highest human potential.
Two generations after the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, composer Max Richter honors its legacy and reimagines its spirit for a world more diverse and equitable than even the document’s idealistic creators imagined. (I have noted elsewhere that even the farthest seers can’t bend their gaze beyond their era’s horizon of possibility; but the horizon shifts with each incremental revolution as the human mind peers outward to take in nature, then turns inward to question its own givens.)
In a stunning piece titled “All Human Beings,” part of his record Voices — a soulful sonic landscape of thought and feeling, powerfully transportive yet grounding, a decade in the making — Richter builds a sonic bower of piano, violin, soprano, and choir around a 1949 recording of Eleanor Roosevelt reading the UDHR. It begins with Roosevelt’s voice, then passes the generational and cultural baton to Kiki Layne, who continues reading in English before morphing into a crowdsourced choral reading in multiple languages by human beings all over the world.
Richter reflects on the project:
Breathing another layer of life into Richter’s masterpiece is this cinematic adaptation by artist Yulia Mahr:
Complement with a timeless, increasingly timely vision for how to heal an ailing and divided world from the Russell-Einstein Manifesto — another visionary document composed seven years after the UDHR — then revisit Richter’s previous masterpiece, Three Worlds, bringing Virginia Woolf’s most beloved works to sonic life.
The Storm, the Rainbow, and the Soul: Coleridge on the Interplay of Terror and Transcendence in Nature and Human Nature
“Place and a mind may interpenetrate till the nature of both is altered,” the great Scottish mountaineer and poet Nan Shepherd wrote in her tiny, tremendous masterpiece The Living Mountain. A couple of mountain ranges south, a century and a half earlier, the great Romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge (October 21, 1772–July 25, 1834) captured the power of that interpenetration in a stunning letter, later included in The Complete Essays, Lectures & Letters of S. T. Coleridge (public library).
The letter, composed three days before his twenty-eighth birthday, begins with a terrifying, transcendent encounter with the grandeur of nature and ends with a humbling encounter with human nature — with the grandeur of the human spirit, its the capacity for dignity and generosity no matter one’s material circumstances.
Nearly a century before the young Van Gogh contemplated the enchantment of storms in nature and human nature while living in poverty in the Hague, the young Coleridge writes to his closest friend from the English Lake District on October 18, 1800:
In a passage evocative of Oliver Sacks’s near-death experience in a Norwegian fjord, Coleridge recounts nature’s sudden turn of temper — a turn from terror to transcendence, which then leads him to an unexpected encounter with the most transcendent qualities of human nature:
“Never eat spinach just before going on the air.”
via Funny Quote of the Day https://ift.tt/3iRLurL
पुणेरी गिऱ्हाईक : मारुती चे Spare Parts आहेत काय?
पुणेरी दुकानदार : डोळे फुटले आहेत की वाचता येत नाही? बाहेर इतका मोठा बोर्ड टांगलाय आम्ही फक्त मारुतीचेच Spare Parts विकतो.
पुणेरी गिऱ्हाईक : ठीक आहे, एक गदा द्या
लेटेस्ट पुणेरी किस्सा
जोशी : मी इथले टॉयलेट वापरू का?
नेने : हो, पण पैसे पडतील
जोशी : नाही पडणार, बसताना काळजी घेईन मी
पुण्याच्या टिळक रस्त्यावरून, बाईक वरून जात होतो. एक स्त्री पुढे स्कूटरवर होती. अचानक ती उजवीकडे जाणाऱ्या रस्त्याला वळली (अर्थात इंडिकेटर किंवा हात न दाखवता).
मी तिला धडकलो. तिला म्हणालो, “अहो कमीतकमी हात तरी दाखवा वळताना”
तर ती म्हणाली, “त्यात काय हात दाखवायचा?, मी रोजच इकडे वळते”
पुणेकर : आहो, अजून बिस्किटे घ्या ना
पाहुणा : नको हो, आधीच मी ५ खाल्ली आहेत
पुणेकर : तशी तुम्ही ६ खाल्ली आहेत, पण आजून खा की, ईथे कोण मोजत बसलंय??
मुलगा : चाहूंगा मॆ तुझे सांज सवरे
मुलगी : आणि दुपारचे काय?
मुलगा : १ ते ४ विश्रांती. मी पुण्याचा आहे
पुण्यातल्या एका फ्री वायफाय नेटवर्कचा पासवर्ड, “घे भिकारड्या”
भिकारी : साहेब खूप भूक लागली आहे. ५ रुपये द्या ना
पुणेकर : १०० रुपयाची नोट आहे ९५ रुपये सुट्टे आहेत का?
भिकारी : हा आहे साहेब
पुणेकर : आधी ते खर्च कर
पुण्यातील एक खवचट म्हातारा एकदा दातांच्या डॉक्टरांकडे गेला. त्या खुर्चीत बसल्यावर डॉक्टरांनी त्यांना मोठा आ आ आ करायला सांगितले. कितीही मोठा केला तरी ते आजून मोठा करायला सांगायचे.
म्हातारा म्हणाला, “तोंडात बसून काढणार असाल तर ती पायातली चप्पल आधी काढा”
जोशी काकू : बघा, मंडईतून भाजी आणण्यापासून ओलिंपिक मेडल पर्यन्त सगळं बायकांनाच आणावं लागतंय
जोशी काका : आम्ही पुरुष मेडल बीड्ल्सच्या भानगडीत पडत नाहीत कारण कोणतंही मेडल आणले तरी बायको नाक मुरडणारच आणि ते बदलून आणायला पाठवणार…. अगदी गोल्ड मेडल जरी आणले तरी बायकोला डिझाईन पसंत पडेलच याची काय गॅरंटी?
आमच्या पुण्यातल्या लोकांना सगळं कसं जवळ हवं असतं
पश्चिमेकडे प्रति शिर्डी तयार करून ठेवलीय आणि
दक्षिणेकडे प्रति बालाजी
आता फक्त खडकवासल्यात प्रति अरबी समुद्र तयार करायचा बाकी आहे
मग सगळं कसं जवळ जवळ
स्वारगेट वर मुंबईची मुलगी आपल्या कॉलेज स्टाईल मध्ये तुच्छतेने कंन्डक्टरला विचारते : हे डबडं केव्हा हलणार इथून?
कंन्डक्टर (अदबीने, सस्मित) : कचरा भरल्यानंतर लगेचच !
तात्पर्य : महामंडळाच्या कंन्डक्टरचा नाद करू नये
पुणेकर : काका पावशेर रताळे द्या
दुकानदार : पिशवीत देऊ?
पुणेकर : नाही नाही… पेन ड्राईव्ह आणलाय. त्यात “रताळे” नावाचा फोल्डर बनवा आणि टाका त्यात
पुण्यात एकदा एका कॅन्टीन मध्ये दोन मुली स्कार्फ बांधून गप्पा मारत होत्या.
जवळजवळ अर्धा तास गप्पा मारत होत्या.
काही वेळाने दोघींनी स्कार्फ काढला आणि अचानक ओरडल्या, “अय्या तू कोण???”
पुण्यातील एक नामवंत डॉक्टर : तुमच्या आजाराचं नेमकं कारण माझ्या लक्षात येत नाहीये. कदाचित दारू प्यायल्यामुळे हे होत असावं…
पुणेरी पेशंट : हरकत नाही… तुमची उतरल्यानंतर येतो मी परत
Look at this… 👀 https://pin.it/4hD0Bou
Did you know…
… that today is the Day of the Five Billion Anniversary? In 1987, the 5 billionth inhabitant of this planet Earth was born. His name? Matej Gaspar. He was born to a Yugoslav nurse in the city of Zagreb, which is now the capital of Croatia. Happy
Today’s Inspirational Quote:
“To err is human, but when the eraser wears out ahead of the pencil, you’re overdoing it.”
— Josh Jenkins
“Art, in itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos.”
via Art Quote of the Day https://ift.tt/2W2J2F9
“The pen is the tongue of the mind.”
via Today’s Quote https://ift.tt/30TpqV1
|WORD OF THE DAY|
|Examples of Aegis in a sentence
“The humanitarian efforts were done under the aegis of the United Nations.”
“Athena carried her aegis for protection.”