The Sandcastle

Blinding in its white light, the tide pulls back,
letting the sand glitter, wet and sticky to the touch.
I reach down with my eager hands and start building
my sweet castle in the sand.

A high tower to look out into the blue windswept sky,
a door to leave the storms behind, and windows everywhere
for my heart to hear the seagulls' high pitched call.
There is room for you and me to dream.

The stars above bright and far colour the castle proud and strong,
we go walking hand in hand, a rainbow kite following us along,
I hear you laugh into the late afternoon before the sun casts its orange glow,
and before the waves hypnotize us with a deep, deep sleep.

But it is a castle in the sand, and sand is what its walls are made of,
and so they will come crashing down, the waves' foamy gown
dragging it into the timeless ocean to its restless sirens and drifting shells,
and there is nothing I can do but watch it take our dreams away.

Perhaps we will live another day to see the tide make way for us
to build yet again our own castle made of wet sand and hungry dreams
close by the deep, deep blue sea.


Trudi Ralston.
January 27th, 2017.
" The innocent often suffer from the liberties of clever tongues." Kahlil Gibran ( 1883- 1931 ) " Sand and Foam "( 1926).

Neil Young : Healing through the Raw and Tender

It was one of those inevitable mornings where I woke up and all I wanted to do was hear Neil Young's " Harvest ". I first heard the 1972 album when I was 22, and it seared itself into my soul from that moment on.  From then on, when I am in the grips of a deep blue funk, where it feels like my soul hangs around me like melting lead, the only way I can exorcise the spell is to hear Neil Young sing some of the first songs I ever heard him sing as a naive college kid in Texas, battling homesickness and cultural alienation and confusion as a foreign student from Belgium. There is an urgency and visceral
quality to his voice, his words, that turns my soul upside down, and inside out, but in the most healing and immediate manner. Songs like " Old Man ", and "A Man Needs A Maid", " Heart of Gold " and the haunting " Words ( Between the Lines of Age)". When I feel disconnected form this huge, contradictory and complex country, discouraged by its at times maddening extremes, I go back to Neil Young's music, and it feels like a tonic, that rehydrates my heart, my mind and reassures me everything will be okay, even if it's not, because his raw guitar melodies and his painfully tender voice drive away my dark mood as were they coming from a medicine man pleading my case to the distracted gods. There is both a mercy and a ruthless honesty in Neil Young's music, he is both an observer and a participant in the malaise that often plagues this nation's soul. At the same time, his love and passion are full of the poetry of hope, of determination, of searching feverishly for what beauty and innocence is left to retrieve, to celebrate, to heal and safeguard. He loves this country  with eyes wide open, scolding and caressing all in one, willing it with his fierce instrumentals and aching voice to submit to his desire for its wholesomeness, its redemption, time and again. His music is timeless, but always very relevant. The immediacy of his concerns, his sarcasm, his anger is tempered by his longing time and again to see this country live up to its promises, its possibilities. The tension his music creates is hypnotic to me, the profound melancholy fused with the bare knuckle fight it puts up against all that his poetic being absorbs as so much bitter water transcends all preconceived notions of predictability. Neil Young's music is a surreal experience to me because it melts away the existing norms of Americana with a machete wielding iron will that insists on dignity, on fair play.

Coffin Soliloquy

I told you to leave the lid open,
at least a crack, so you can peek out
while no one is looking this way.
It was a bad idea to stick around, to feel
the satin and plush inside, to feel the
soft slide of the wood under your curious touch.

Yeah, I know it is dark and cold around here,
why should that be a surprise to you now?
Doesn't all the mindless chatter out there bother you?
It is all the same to me, what I look forward to
is the moist dark earth all around me, peace
and quiet at last!

You should get out of here, you stay much longer
and they are bound to believe it truly is your funeral today.
They should know the difference, I suppose, but listen
it is not like you were around much before,
make some noise, girl, whistle, clap, stomp your feet,
you can't just lay around here, intruding on my schedule and time.

Any last word you say, before you sneak away?
Well, go live a while, before that pillow in here is your last.
I will be fine, there's a back log this week, never you mind.
Close the lid on your way out, I've been wanting to scare
that nasty woman over there by the pond, she is looking for her
uncle she thinks is in the room where I am hanging out.


Trudi Ralston.
January 23rd, 2017.

Sunday Sky

Sunday sky, Monday blues,
Tuesday thunder and Wednesday moon,
Thursday hail, Friday sun and Saturday rain,
and where do I go from here?

Twirling my dreams like a pinwheel on parade,
humming a tune only I can hear, clicking my heels
as sparks sputter and fail, maybe I should get out of here?

Tell me it isn't so, tell me it just isn't true, tell me
I am still not quite thirty, and there is no such thing
as those sneaky grey hairs messing up my blond curls.

Those trees we planted, now they are so sturdy and tall,
and all the neighbour kids are married and have kids of their own,
and the other day somebody called me ma'am, and I wondered,
do I really look that part, maybe the kid was just joking or too polite,
and maybe I should just get out of here.

Maybe if I catch a ride on a moonbeam when the stars are just right,
or grab a hold of that big white cloud, I will wake up on the other side
all spunky, young and bright, and follow that big wave over the horizon
to where my dreams are waiting, suitcase in hand, with you smiling by my side.

Sunday sky, Monday blues,
Tuesday thunder  and Wednesday moon,
Thursday hail, Friday sun and Saturday rain,
and where do I go from here?

Where do I go from here?


Trudi Ralston.
January 17th, 2017.
meant to be sung, to the tune of  a mid 1930's melody.

Eccentricity : Lord Baldwin's new album and the treasure hunt it invites.

It always impresses me when I spend time with Chester Baldwin's music how this artist is not afraid to step outside of his comfort zone in all sorts of ways : lyrics, melody, instrumentals, mood. The 2016 album " Eccentricity " showcases that fearless approach. The album feels like a journey, at times hesitant, at times a bit lost, revealing hidden treasures along the way. There are 28 songs, and I will focus on the gems I found along the way, rather than giving a review of each and every song, which I have done in previous reviews of Lord Baldwin's music. The first part of the album has three songs that to me are very strong and come across as perfect in every aspect. " Off The Grid " is about the consequences of our addiction to technology, not the least of which is the invasion of our privacy. It is a song of great and rebellious tone and energy. Lord Baldwin's by now signature and unique instrumentals add just the right kick to this attention grabbing song. " Down The Road " is reminiscent of Dr. John's songs in mood and melody, a beautiful ballad of self determination and purpose. The song " But They Never Will " is a haunting and frank reflection on the complexities of long term relationships and their struggles for maintaining momentum and direction.
The other songs seem woven around these sparkling jewels, and give structure and direction to them.
Like a walk in the woods, where the path at times is not clear, the surrounding songs are markers that help us understand the heart and soul of the bard, that are forever searching for authenticity and meaning. A bold undertaking, that shows courage on the part of the artist, as he struggles to come to terms with getting older and the unavoidable finality on the horizon.
Part II continues the journey, with some songs again that are quiet, reflective, and that truly feel like we are partaking of the journey the musician is inviting us to join. At times, the songs feel like monologues, that the artist wants us not just to hear, but also to accept. The doubt, the hesitation, the questions are very real and feel close to the skin. The inside sleeve of the album shows on one side an open suitcase full of personal items apparently important to Chester. It is a perfect image to get across the idea of a journey, the contents of which he shares generously and honestly. It is up to the listener to decide which items he or she can relate to. I am also pleased that Lord Baldwin included one of my poems from my collection " Solo Flight ", " If It's All The Same To You ", that he put to song. " Chasing That Dream " is a flawless song that evokes a Bob Dylan like melody and harmonica. " Still In Transition" is a great ballad with very fun instrumentals, and a Tom Wait's like spirit, it is a haunting song about accepting the inevitability of the finality of our earthly lives. " More Of The Same " has a dynamite saxophone, and mind you, all the instrumentation you hear is done by Chester himself, very impressive.  " Like An Old Man " showcases Chester's virtuoso harmonica, always a treat with its range and warm, energetic tones. " Not In Such A Hurry " is a personal song about realizing the slowing down of time with retirement. It has a bittersweet undertone, of acceptance and hope. In " Hope Springs Eternal " Chester Baldwin harmonizes with himself, in a song that is touching for its emotional sparsity and transparency. " Unkind Words " is chilling in its unflinching insight and honesty. All in all, in this expansive and patient journey towards a deeper self acceptance and deeper purpose, Lord Baldwin leaves treasures for us to find in the sparkling gems he leaves along the way. As always, a day spent with Chester's music is a day that leaves my heart and soul warmer, more hopeful, reassured and at peace.

La Musique du Desespoir

Le desespoir n'est pas une ombre silencieuse.
Il a une voix, mais que seules les personnes tristes
peuvent entendre.
Il chante ses melodies et ses melancholies loin
de la tumulte, loin du bruit et ses illusions.

Sa musique seul le coeur l'entend, seul l'ame
la comprend.

Ce n'est pas une musique forte ou feroce,
on l'entend geure sous le souffle du silence et son orchestre timide.

Le desespoir danse, sous le soleil, et sous la pluie,
sa musique de violon pleure des larmes claires comme les etoiles la nuit.
Chacque ame, chacque coeur a sa propre cadence, et c'est par pitie
que les anges et les dieux  arrangent que chacun de nous n'entendent
que notre chanson, pour que ne tombe pas le ciel du poids de tant de cris et miseres.



Trudi Ralston.
January 12th, 2017.  

A Unique Mystique : The Hypnotic Appeal of Daryl Dixon

I cannot say that I was one of the people who started watching the blockbuster TV series The Walking Dead because of Norman Reedus and his portrayal of Daryl Dixon. Very quickly though, I learned about his appeal through one of my neighbours who is a big fan. There is no denying that the actor personifies male animal magnetism and charisma. I became intrigued by the series because my son loves it and I started watching it with him. I liked it right away, and decided to start watching it from the beginning. Because of my neighbour's enthusiasm for Norman Reedus, I started paying attention to the Daryl Dixon character, and my son also thought the character very interesting and worthwhile. I have to agree.( The first boy I ever dated had Daryl Dixon's feline and penetrating, inscrutable eyes,good looks and shaggy hair; he was also pretty cold and mean. So, a bit of misgiving has lingered when it comes to lynx eyed guys.) By the middle of season three, I was convinced that Daryl Dixon was as intriguing as he was handsome and muscular. His skill with a bow and knife only adding to his mystique. By season five now, I am impressed. Not since Charles Bronson has there been an actor who embodies the strong silent type with such conviction and charisma, and I think he exceeds the Charles Bronson appeal with his ability to convey warmth and emotion. We learn of Daryl's disastrous childhood at the hands of his abusive father and of the trauma of losing his mother in a tragic house fire. Norman Reedus is a skilled, varied and accomplished actor who is also an artist, photographer and writer. A bit intimidating, really. In real life as well, the actor is complex and intriguing. To learn that he also modeled for such illustrious fashion houses as Prada only adds to my feeling almost annoyed. Damn, this guy has everything, devastating looks, muscle, talent, intelligence. If he walked into a room, instead of running excitedly towards him asking for an autographed picture, I would probably want to walk the other way with my heart pounding in my chest, looking for the back door. But enough about that. Norman Reedus is flawless as Daryl Dixon. One of my favorite things the character reveals about himself is when someone asks him, as people around him are prone to do, what it was he did before the zombie apocalypse, wondering if he was a spy, an undercover cop and he answers that time and says very humbly : " You want to know what I was before this? I was just another redneck asshole. I was nothing." He says this without anger or resentment, but with a deep realization that that was exactly what he was. Another revealing moment is when he and his obnoxious older brother Merle get into a scuffle and Merle ends up tearing the back of Daryl's shirt. It reveals a back scarred from repetitive beatings, apparently endured at the hands of their violent and alcoholic father. Merle is taken aback, he did not know that their father also beat Daryl, because Merle left. Daryl reproaches him abandoning him to that fate as Merle answers in defense : " I had to leave, I was going to kill him."
It is moment that reveals how helpless Daryl was as a child. Another moment where Daryl allows himself to be seen as vulnerable is when he tells young Carl  ( Chandler Riggs) who just had to shoot his mom after she dies in childbirth so she won't turn into a zombie, how his own mom " Liked her wine. She liked to smoke in bed, Virginia Slims", and how he was on his way home one day to learn that his mom burned up together with the house. The revelations Daryl gives are a way to help others understand that he too is no stranger to tragedy and loss, no matter how indifferent emotionally he comes across. His loyalty is endearing, as is his warrior like skill and speed with his crossbow. He is a character that grows on you, unlike the samurai sword wielding Michonne ( Danai Gurira ) who I liked and admired instantly.
The mystique of Daryl Dixon is well deserved. I have no way of truly knowing what kind of person Norman Reedus is, but by now I would not mind so much finding out. He does seem kind hearted in his effort to contribute some of his time and energy to charities for children and against animal cruelty, that is a nice balance to his artistic endeavours.  I continue to look forward to every episode of the Walking Dead and there is no denying that Norman Reedus is an essential part of that anticipation.

The Walking Dead : Zombie Catharsis

It has been an unusually cold winter so far, with extreme temperatures in many places, here,
in the Northern Plains, and now in the deep South, in places like Georgia, Alabama and the Carolinas.
I am at the beginning of Season Five now in The Walking Dead TV series, and the story and characters only are deepening and increasing in richness and complexity. The challenges and setbacks the richly layered story has the actors deal with is now adding a new dimension of humanity, warmth, determination and tenacity under excruciatingly difficult circumstances that seem to encompass all the horrors of war, cruelty, genocide, greed and power. The world right now seems to be at the precipice of a very dangerous drop into a potentially disastrous level of worldwide conflicts reminiscent of World War I and more poignantly World War II. The Walking Dead touches very graphically on all the gruesome aspects of an apocalyptic war, as Carol ( Melissa McBride) has to save what is left of Rick ( Andrew Lincoln) 's group from a monstrous compound where the leaders are actively conducting a selective genocide that is a chilling echo of the monstrosities the Nazis perpetrated against the Jews. Carol, who had been excommunicated from the group for a transgression Rick thought was unforgivable, single handed saves everyone in an act of formidable courage and resourcefulness, and is as a result forgiven by him and the entire group. It was a powerful moment of catharsis, of transcendence on her part and on the part of the group as to the standard definitions of right and wrong in the face of impossibly twisted circumstances and dilemmas. It is a cliche that war brings out the worst and the best in people. But in war, the lines are stretched beyond what good and evil encompass, what they each can bear. I have lost a lot of close family, under absurd and tragic circumstances, and I found myself getting renewed strength and insight and dignity watching Carol's struggles and the very brave and bold decisions she finds the heart to make, as a woman who previously had no voice, no presence as the wife of a vulgar, brutish and physically abusive husband. She voices the change very succinctly : " No, that was not my shadow, just my husband's." She becomes free, free to act and be strong, decisive,
courageous, unafraid. I know it was a struggle for me to get from underneath the shadow I felt trapped under by my manipulative and alcoholic mother, and I remember the thrill of standing up to her, to call her on her lies and games, and to just say " NO" to her and some of the other members in my family who thought I was just putty for their manipulations. I felt a strength wake up in me, one that has only gotten more determined with these last ten years. It was an awakening, that got me to start writing, to stand on my own unafraid, my own person at last. My declaration of independence was met with insults, threats and contempt, but the price of rejection  and its resultant solitude was well worth my dignity and humanity, my self determination and freedom. The Walking Dead does a wonderful job showing how people can claim their freedom, their courage, their heart, their destiny in the face of circumstances that do everything to tear down that determination, that desire, that basic human right. The ugliness of the endless zombies and their distorted, twisted faces, sounds and bodies I have come to see as a symbol to transcend, to reach our hopes and dreams regardless of, in spite of, and sometimes even, because of the nightmare that pushes us beyond what we can endure, to break free, renewed, bruised and worn out, but exhilarated at the realization we came out of the horror alive, wiser, kinder, stronger. The Walking Dead is ultimately about hope and its necessity if we are to live free and with dignity. I so look forward to what other lessons I will learn as the series and its characters keep moving forward, always fearless no matter what monsters, dead or alive, might be lurking about.

Le Parapluie

Il est toujours agreable de recevoir un cadeau par la poste,
plus si c'est un geste gentil d'une amie aimee,
qu'on connait depuis longtemps.

La distance des oceans jamais moins importante
que dans ces moments joyeux et encourageants,
la camaraderie plus forte que les annees et ses incertitudes.

Cette fois, tu m'as envoye un parapluie,
avec les couleurs d'un oiseau tropicale.
Vert, rouge, bleu, orange, blanc et noir.

Un sourire m' echappe en ouvrant ce parapluie
et toutes ses charmes, qui comme une tournesol eclatant
son energie et lumiere, me rapelle un parapluie de mon enfance
quand j'avais huit ans et qui etait bien trop bombaste et grand.

Ton parapluie est moderne et elegant, il a les couleurs de la terre
et de ses musiques du monde vibrant, il me peint ses dessins
et ses reves pleins d'espoir, courage et dignite.

Et voila, comme ca ton parapluie m' annonce un Nouvel An
encore une fois, et m' acompagnera sur ces jours ou le soleil se cache.
Et le courage je le rencontrai alors dans mon coeur fort et dans
le lien de notre amitie qui reste jeune et rassurante apres plus de trente ans.


Trudi Ralston.
January 4th, 2017.
Pour Catherine Bouchacourt.

Les Vents D'Hiver

C'est rare pour nous ici d'avoir des hivers ou le vent n'arrete de crier sa tyrannie,
jour et nuit.
On dirait un fantome secouant sa colere dans l'hauteur des arbres muets et blancs.

Il fait trop froid pour meme le silence qui se cache dans ce qui reste d'un ciel clair et aveuglant.

Il parait qu'il  n'y a ni anges ni diables dans cette danse feroce dont s'occupe le vent sifflant,
qui traine son haleine comme un couteau sanglant sur toutes les doutes humaines.

Les grands du monde se regardent dans leurs miroirs brises ou se refletent
leurs yeux vides sur le coucher du soleil rouge et brulant de la terre et son ame mourant.

Le futur est la chanson d'un oiseau bleu et courageux qui risque se perdre dans les nuages
et miseres d'une autre guerre mondiale et ses spectres du neant.


Trudi Ralston.
" War is the ultimate madness."
Leonardo da Vinci.
January 4th, 2017. 

 

In Praise of The Walking Dead

I have never been a fan of horror drama, but the consistent praise I heard about The Walking Dead TV show currently enthralling audiences intrigued me. My college aged son introduced me to the series, and I hesitantly checked it out, not being a fan of zombies as an aesthetic squeamish sort. My curiosity soon gently shoved aside any initial nauseous feelings I had when seeing walkers or zombies meet their unnatural state's graphic second demise. I began to notice the great acting, the very convincing cinematography, the suffocating isolation the plague forces upon the protagonists and their entourage, the sincere and powerful dilemmas the characters face. I have seen my share of dystopian movies, and many of them are entertaining and clever. The Walking Dead is in a class all its own. It is normal to develop sympathies for certain characters when watching a series over a large number of seasons, but I notice that with this show I feel like I am one of the actors, like I can choose one or various actors and put myself there as them. I think it is because these actors are all so very talented, from Danai Gurira to Norman Reedus to Andrew Lincoln, Steven Yeun, Lauren Cohan, and Chandler Riggs, Melissa McBride, Sarah Wayne Callies, Jon Bernthal, Scott Wilson , David Morrissey, Michael Rooker, and Jeffrey DeMunn, Laurie Holden, IronE Singleton. The acting is superb, because the characters they portray become part of us, in the sense that we feel their dilemmas credible, possible to our hearts and minds, were we to be in their awful positions. It is not just that an empathy develops for their excruciatingly precarious and horrific circumstances and challenges, but you feel like this is all happening to you as a viewer as well. You feel right there beside them. These actors play people that up to this point had led very ordinary lives of very little consequence or magnitude, and who find themselves delving deep into their resilience, their ability for courage, leadership, ingenuity, strength, compassion, many of them surprising and surpassing themselves. The villains too have a depth of character that is hard to dismiss or ignore, no matter how loathsome their goals and methods, we are fascinated by them. The usual clearly delineated categories of good and evil become very blurred at times, and that hesitancy, that doubt wreaks havoc and destruction, both physically and emotionally. The show asks moral questions in a brutally honest way asked by ordinary people put under mind and body breaking stress and chaos. Most of them are able to hang on to their humanity. Others fail miserably and horribly, but always with the weight and pathos of a Shakespearean character. The characters of Shane ( Jon Bernthal ) and the Governor ( David Morrissey ) are haunting, in the destruction their deranged egos create, both being monsters whose obsessions tragically impact  people's lives and deaths. The psychopathology of the ones who get lost in their delusions, like Shane and the Governor, is portrayed in great and patient and credible detail. The heroic characters are portrayed with equal depth, showing the evolution of their insight, determination and courage. Rick Grimes ( Andrew Lincoln ), Dale Horvath ( Jeffrey DeMunn ), Glenn Rhee ( Steven Yeung), Daryl Dixon  ( Norman Reedus ), Hershel Greene ( Scott Wilson ),  Carol Peletier ( Melissa McBride ), Maggie Greene ( Lauren Cohan ), the formidable Michonne ( Danai Gurira ).  All are people who found a deep core of impressive resilience, determination, intelligence, compassion and courage that perhaps under ordinary circumstances would have remained dormant. They make us believe, want us to believe we would equally rise to the occasion. They are inspiring but in an attainable, believable way. They give us hope. We may not have to deal with walking dead ( yet... ) but this stressful, unpredictable world with its many challenges socially, politically and globally gives most of us pause. The actors portraying the strong characters in The Walking Dead give us a scenario where we could make the best of very uneven odds. The writing by Frank Darabont, Robert Kirkman, Charlie Adlard and Tony Moore is brilliant. This is one comic book series that Robert Kirkman as the originator transformed into a very smart TV show that is truly impressive in every way. As one who joined The Walking Dead enthusiasts a bit late, and is only halfway season three, I am riveted and eager to catch up to the current season seven in this outstanding show.