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Dear Readers, This is a re-post from The BlueHome Blog (the blog I write for bluehomeartworks.com). If you follow that link you can read about BlueHome Artworks, which is—in a nutshell—a consignment outlet in support of the artists and craftspersons in the New Vrindavan, West Virginia community and surrounding area.
I just wanted to share the post here also, as it relates and is important to me personally, as a songwriter, musician, and poet. I hope you’ll enjoy the read, and if you’re local, come out and join us. As always, thanks for visiting my blog, and please leave a comment if so inclined. Namaste, jesse
The BlueHome Artworks Tea House Project
The following is a blog in two parts:
The first part serves as an announcement of an event that will be held bi-monthly in New Vrindavan.
The second part is Lilasuka’s article (Lilasuka—as the Communications Director for New Vrindavan—writes most of the NV news articles) in the Brijabasi Spirit Blog. I’ve simply re-posted that blog article.
Dearest Friends and Devotees,
Jesse and Lilasuka Hanson would like to invite you to be part of a new bi-monthly
Essentially, it will be a Songwriters, Musicians, and Poetry Circle. This will be a very unique and informal group, plus the public will be invited to attend—no charge—come and go as you please. New Vrindavan’s own remarkably talented cast of songwriters, musicians, storytellers, and poets will be taking turns, sharing their work and their talents in an informal setting. The event will be easy on the ears—acoustic (meaning without amplification or drums, other than a microphone for the vocalists or readers, when necessary, and the possibility of low volume bass/lead guitar or other instruments requiring electricity, played at low volumes). Hand percussion, such as mrdanga, tabla, djembe, etc. will of course be welcome.
Musicians, don’t worry if you’re not a songwriter. When it’s your turn, play whatever tasteful music you like. Our intention is just that this project is open to creativity, and kirtan will not be the focus, but neither will it be excluded.
The Teahouse Project was inspired by an informal gathering held at the gift shop last Sunday, when Jaya Rishi gathered a few musicians together.
The next event will be held in the music room of the school on Thursday evening, February 14 (happens to be Valentines Day), at 5:30 pm. Subsequent events will be held on the 2nd and 4th Thursdays of each month.
We wanted to get the word out, asap, but we will, of course, send another reminder before the first Tea House event.
- Posted by ls
- January 28, 2013
by Lilasuka dasi
The other day, after the Sunday feast, some of New Vrindavan’s finest musical talents dropped by the BlueHome Artworks Gift Shop. They went there to share their music and to jam along with each other’s songs.
The night before, Jaya Rishi had approached Jesse, “I’ve invited some musicians to my room in the temple after the Sunday feast to get together for some music. Would you and Lila like to come?”
“Sure, thank you. But, hey, why not have it at Bluehome Artworks Gift Shop, where it might be more roomy and comfortable? And besides, since your room’s in the men’s asrama, then Lila will actually be able to come.”
And so it was. Everyone sat in a circle in the Gift Shop, and one at a time, each musician led a song of their choice. Most of the musicians there sang songs that they themselves had written.
After they’d gone around the circle about 3 times, everyone seemed very satisfied. Some were pleasantly surprised hearing their godsiblings’ music for the first time.
Jason, a new devotee at New Vrindavan who has been a drummer for some time, said, “I’ve been very interested in getting involved somehow in music in New Vrindavan, so this gathering has been especially nice for me.”
Jesse explains, “This music event tonight really inspired me toward a project in which I’ve been interested for some time. Lila and I have wanted to host gatherings of musicians, songwriters, poets and writers, since N.V. is a community full of talent. Tonight turned out to be a great start!”
Jesse added, “I especially liked the way everyone took turns and paid attention to each other’s offerings.”
Look for an invitation to be sent out soon, inviting everyone, including listeners, to future gatherings of this type.
Well… the invitation is, of course, in the first part of this post.
Yes, I’ve been conspicuously absent. I’ve been working night and day to establish our BlueHome Artworks consignment shop within the New Vrindaban Community. I started a blog there as part of the online store/website: The BlueHome Blog, where I talk about the value of thinking small, in terms of supporting small and local businesses, artisans making hand crafted products, agriculture, etc. Village economy, really.
So you can check that sight and blog out if you’re inclined to. Here, I intend to maintain my personal stuff, including my writing, my spiritual quest and ponderings, etc. I know; it’s a summer picture I’ve posted, but the current view from our home is a little bleak right now, since we don’t have snow yet—at least not any that’s stuck. But as you can see, it is snowing on the picture anyway.
So here’s my new poem. It does, in fact, contain some of those ponderings. I hope you enjoy it. As always, I invite you to comment if you feel like it.
Setting my Sights
Jesse S. Hanson
My Father is dead but my real Father lives
My real Father is dead but my even more real Father lives
Jesse is gone but then he never was
I never could find him
Just some vague familiarity with someone who always disappointed
Where is my family, my kin?
I wait for them on the shore where the boats come and go
But not them, no
Where are my dogs and my horses?
I don’t see them run and bark and whinny
Over the hills, willy-nilly
Where are my girls, where are my boys?
My songs are dead but my real song sings
My dreams are dead but my real dream waits
For me to wake up
From dead and dying dreams
I have to set out
I have to go on a fearsome adventure
I have to set out across the wilderness with only faith
Since I lack courage
Since I lack vision
Since I lack identity
I’ve always had to cry as the years have gone by
Where are my rolling prairies?
Well, those men have plowed them
Where are my towering hills and splendid valleys?
Those men cut them down, dug them out, they were sold out for baubles
And a plastic future
Where is my beach, my little house on the ocean?
All washed up, built up, soiled, overgrown, weeds and litter
My land is dead but my real land lives
My Father is buried but my real Father lives
My real Father is cremated but my more real Father lives
Jesse is gone but then he never was
I have to go to another land
I will grow weary of this childish tantrum
These sentimental tears
I will become forgetful of all things behind me
Become tired of mourning a life that did not care for me
A home that was not there for me
I’ll set my sights on the unknown distance
Across the ocean of this lost existence
My Father is dead but he’ll be forgotten
My real Father has gone on ahead
My even more real Father is here waiting.