Thanks to those who inquired about my health last week. I'm now well back in the swing of things, experiencing the bitter Parisian cold firsthand. And today amid the greater world's joys and sorrows, the slaughters and acts of kindness, the electoral hand-wringing and bickering, the getting and spending, I managed the daily doings: tending [...]
Never a February 2 without a thought for James Joyce, the day of his birth (in Dublin), the day of the publication of "Ulysses" (in Paris) 40 years later. Myself, I was too sick today to go to the funeral of a poet/friend/fellow Joycean at Père Lachaise this morning. I took some comfort, though, in [...]
Another sick day, another day of sickness. Something refreshingly healthy about just being sick. Meanwhile, I've heard that the cold outside is bitter. But as I've been indoors for nearly two days, I can only believe (or not) what I hear. Or I can go out and feel for myself. It's the same for everything, [...]
Last night in the Métro at Strasbourg St. Denis, an accordian captured me in transit. I was dolloped by the lateral movement of wind making song in the tunnel. Or was it song riding on wind? For a moment, the world rose and fell there, almost mournful, almost buoyant, between the arms of a man [...]
Tonight, a slick film with blood and gore, revenge killing and righteousness, leaves me wondering: Why? The "artist" left his mark. You could almost hear him chuckling. Too bad. "We walk through ourselves,'' James Joyce wrote, "meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love. But always meeting ourselves." All is in me [...]
The cat came in with wet paws tonight while we ate a mushroom risotto for dinner with green beans on the side. I was happy being the cook. Earlier, on the black t-shirt of the man at the dry-cleaners': "Keep power." I looked around as he wrapped my orange skirt, black jacket, gray sweater: What [...]
Something brilliant came to mind today, arising somewhere between arrivals and departures, during one of a number of my trips on public transport. It was as brilliant as the sun, whose brightness brought out my sunglasses. It was perfect as the winter sky was blue, impeccable, cloudless, seamless. It reflected everything and everyone that I [...]
I heard on the radio this morning that today is the first anniversary of the Tunisian revolution. All sorts of people came together throughout the country to celebrate. Leaders from a variety of Arab nations praised the country and the movement of change that it sparked across the Arab world (even Algeria, hardly a free [...]
A long day nearing its end is steeped in silence and dark. Now a car rumbles past outside. Now it's gone. Through an empty glass on my desk, the corner of an image appears, a postcard of a Toulouse-Lautrec painting that I love, a reclining woman wearing long black stockings, entitled, "Seule." Tonight, although I [...]
Questions abound tonight after all the day's "evidence" has run its course: some writing work done, meals cooked and eaten, correspondence completed, conversations with the cat pursued and communications about administrative issues undertaken on the phone. The euro crisis, however, has not been resolved. Although of course Lionel Messi was named footballer of the year. [...]
Le Web carnet de Amy Hollowell Sensei, fondatrice de la Wild Flower Zen Sangha et successeur de Catherine Genno Pagès Roshi dans le lignage Zen Soto de Taizan Maezumi Roshi, fondateur du Centre Zen de Los Angeles.
The Web notebook of Amy Hollowell Sensei, founder of the Wild Flower Zen Sangha and dharma successor of Catherine Genno Pagès Roshi in the Soto Zen lineage of Taizan Maezumi Roshi, founder of the Los Angeles Zen Center.
