It Was Terrible When A Single Conversation

Maybe We Try Too Hard To Be Remembered, Waking To The Glowing Yellow Disc In Ignorance, Swearing That Today Will Be The Day, Today We Will Make Something Of Our Lives. What If We Are So Busy Searching For Worth That We Miss The Sapphire Sky And Cackling Blackbird. What Else Is Missing? Maybe Our Steps Are Too Straight And Our Paths Too Narrow And Not Overlapping. Maybe When They Overlap Someone In Another Country Lights A Candle, A Couple Resolves Their Argument, A Young Man Puts Down His Silver Gun And Walks Away.

I Grew Up In St. Louis In A Tiny House Full Of Large Music - Mahalia Jackson And Marian Anderson Singing Majestically On The Stereo, My German-american Mother Fingering 'the Lost Chord' On The Piano As Golden Light Sank Through Trees, My Palestinian Father Trilling In Arabic In The Shower Each Dawn.

I'm Not Interested In Who Suffered The Most. I'm Interested In People Getting Over It.

My Father Was Very Disappointed By War And Fighting. And He Thought Language Could Help Us Out Of Cycles Of Revenge And Animosity. And So, As A Journalist, He Always Found Himself Asking Lots Of Questions And Trying To Gather Information. He Was Always Very Clear To Underscore The Fact That Jewish People And Arab People Were Brother And Sister.

Energy Is Everything. Rubbing Happy And Sad Together Creates Energy.