🎈I found this entry very interesting, Patti, and especially comforting. . . the chill and comfort of walking along the shore in the wind, with salt in the air and the sound of the water and waves in my ear, a salty lick on the lips with a drip of mucus . . . your photo labeled '🎈everything came from someone🎈' has perhaps given me the means of respectfully and loving move some items I have treasured and collected and brought with me for nearly for my lifetime. When I was abducted at 4 yrs. my leather 'lambie' was taken from me by my abductor so I wouldn't remember where I came from. . . and later in pre-school the silver name bracket that the nun's took from me and never returned - the school was next door to the state prison in Barnstable, Cape Cod, Massachusetts. I've tried to forget and forgive everything my estranged partner and our children have taken and/or destroyed without honoring where they came from - YEs, "everything came from someone" and 'somethings were given to, taken from, or sadly stolen, by someone.' 🎈
Thanks for posting as always beautiful combinations of things / photos / memories / music / writing. Very special. Very thankful that you continue with your posts and glad to be able to resubscribe!
I’ve been to a place on the coast of north east Scotland for the Palm Sunday weekend :-) spent the early morning on the beach there.
So excited to see the blanket on your chair I wrote in my calendar, “Patti’s got a Jerry chair!” Touched by the warm colors of the video and the heavenly harmonies of the song, of which I was unfamiliar. Thank you!
In the nature of synchronicities, later Monday dusk found myself and a friend at the Empire Buffalo Farm yarning with Farmer Joe, while admiring the majestic bull Buffalo who recently won his take-over bid to lead the herd. Turns out, among many things, Joe’s been a rock photographer, and IS a Deadhead, so the song manifested itself, again, and yeah, Joe heard him play it Live back when, and wouldn’t ya know it that day the crowd looked round at each other in awe, not only did it feel like Palm Sunday (again), it was Palm Sunday.
It's funny Patti,, when I am thinking about my life and my past I turn on my PSG Playlists on my rduquet You tube channel. Love you Patti, Bob Duquet from Michigan.
Thank you, Patti for the generosity in sharing such thoughtful posts.
I believe that in the cycles of the seasons, the wane and wax of the moon, the rhythm of the tides ~ and in our own rituals and remembering we are ever tied to the mysteries of being human. How blessed we are to be alive.
Wow what a lovely song to wake up to thank you. I am imagining you walking by the sea, such a calming beautiful sound whether stormy or calm. This morning there is no wind or rain and the sun is trying to push through the fluffy clouds. I shall be meeting friends for coffee in the park and then we will go to yoga. Have a peaceful day 🙏
My hubby is a "Dead Head" and I was compelled to share with him the picture of your Jerry Garcia blanket chair and the song, which amazingly he had never heard before. Both of us send our love dear Patti…
Dear Patti Smith, I used my mother's inheritance to create "The Journal of Undiscovered Poets". With a tiny 1/8 page ad in 'Poets and Writers Magazine', I brought in submissions from five continents and forty countries. Every issue features cover art by an avian illustrator, with an interview by an already discovered poet. Audrey Niffenegger gave us the #3 talk. My dream is that #5 would be you. Can I send you copies? They feel so good in the hand. My dear friend Steve Kay of Vintage Vinyl records says he knows a mutual friend (Lenny?) who could get them to you. Or I can fedex to Rockaway Beach tomorrow. Yours in the Page,
Having left Rockaway a long long time ago and currently living inland, I envy you your Palm Sunday on the shore. Happy Palm Sunday, and all the other holy days of all faiths.
🎈I found this entry very interesting, Patti, and especially comforting. . . the chill and comfort of walking along the shore in the wind, with salt in the air and the sound of the water and waves in my ear, a salty lick on the lips with a drip of mucus . . . your photo labeled '🎈everything came from someone🎈' has perhaps given me the means of respectfully and loving move some items I have treasured and collected and brought with me for nearly for my lifetime. When I was abducted at 4 yrs. my leather 'lambie' was taken from me by my abductor so I wouldn't remember where I came from. . . and later in pre-school the silver name bracket that the nun's took from me and never returned - the school was next door to the state prison in Barnstable, Cape Cod, Massachusetts. I've tried to forget and forgive everything my estranged partner and our children have taken and/or destroyed without honoring where they came from - YEs, "everything came from someone" and 'somethings were given to, taken from, or sadly stolen, by someone.' 🎈
No doubt your Rockaway digs is eager to embrace you whenever you come home to it.
Lovely to see your little Rockaway beach place!
Thanks for posting as always beautiful combinations of things / photos / memories / music / writing. Very special. Very thankful that you continue with your posts and glad to be able to resubscribe!
I’ve been to a place on the coast of north east Scotland for the Palm Sunday weekend :-) spent the early morning on the beach there.
Groovy stuff. They don't make 'em like they used to.
So excited to see the blanket on your chair I wrote in my calendar, “Patti’s got a Jerry chair!” Touched by the warm colors of the video and the heavenly harmonies of the song, of which I was unfamiliar. Thank you!
In the nature of synchronicities, later Monday dusk found myself and a friend at the Empire Buffalo Farm yarning with Farmer Joe, while admiring the majestic bull Buffalo who recently won his take-over bid to lead the herd. Turns out, among many things, Joe’s been a rock photographer, and IS a Deadhead, so the song manifested itself, again, and yeah, Joe heard him play it Live back when, and wouldn’t ya know it that day the crowd looked round at each other in awe, not only did it feel like Palm Sunday (again), it was Palm Sunday.
Such a beautiful song. I met my husband at a Jerry Garcia Band concert on my birthday. Listening to Jerry and Donna, oh what a gift. with gratitude w
It's funny Patti,, when I am thinking about my life and my past I turn on my PSG Playlists on my rduquet You tube channel. Love you Patti, Bob Duquet from Michigan.
Beautiful song. Oh, the beach! My happy beach place is the island of Ocracoke and I will recharge there in May. 🌊
So thoughtful, so beautiful! Happy Palm Sunday.
Thank you, Patti for the generosity in sharing such thoughtful posts.
I believe that in the cycles of the seasons, the wane and wax of the moon, the rhythm of the tides ~ and in our own rituals and remembering we are ever tied to the mysteries of being human. How blessed we are to be alive.
Wow what a lovely song to wake up to thank you. I am imagining you walking by the sea, such a calming beautiful sound whether stormy or calm. This morning there is no wind or rain and the sun is trying to push through the fluffy clouds. I shall be meeting friends for coffee in the park and then we will go to yoga. Have a peaceful day 🙏
My hubby is a "Dead Head" and I was compelled to share with him the picture of your Jerry Garcia blanket chair and the song, which amazingly he had never heard before. Both of us send our love dear Patti…
Dear Patti Smith, I used my mother's inheritance to create "The Journal of Undiscovered Poets". With a tiny 1/8 page ad in 'Poets and Writers Magazine', I brought in submissions from five continents and forty countries. Every issue features cover art by an avian illustrator, with an interview by an already discovered poet. Audrey Niffenegger gave us the #3 talk. My dream is that #5 would be you. Can I send you copies? They feel so good in the hand. My dear friend Steve Kay of Vintage Vinyl records says he knows a mutual friend (Lenny?) who could get them to you. Or I can fedex to Rockaway Beach tomorrow. Yours in the Page,
Margaret Sullivan 7moredays2020@gmail.com
Poem Sunday
I love an old wooden desk.
Having left Rockaway a long long time ago and currently living inland, I envy you your Palm Sunday on the shore. Happy Palm Sunday, and all the other holy days of all faiths.