MARMELODIAN: Blog

I WATCH YOU FROM A DISTANCE
iN THE DISTANCE i STAND
WHEN YOU TURN YOU DON'T NOTICE
OR CARE WHO I AM
 
 
WHEN YOU SCAN YOUR SURROUNDINGS
YOUR EYES LOOK PAST ME
TO YOU I'M A FIXTURE
JUST A PART OF THE SCENE
 
 
When I wrote, recorded and published my song "Distance," a Facebook friend messaged me urgently: "Oh Martha, I'm sorry, what happened?" I hurriedly posted a comment on my own page to reassure her and everyone else that those broken hearted lyrics were not a reflection, thank God, of my present life. But when I was a girl, they were too often true and I still remember how much it hurt to be young and feel invisible.
 
Back then, my sense of invisibility was SO painful. It usually manifested as having a crush on a boy who never noticed I existed. Or wishing I could be one of the girls in the 'in crowd.' Or that the boy I dated briefly in college would stop calling me Margaret (his old girlfriend's name) but actually see ME and remember my name was 'Martha.'
 
Now, [...]

 
Last Sunday, Bob and I spent the afternoon at the McClung Museum on the University of Tennessee campus in Knoxville. What a wonderful way to spend an afternoon, soaking up knowledge and history of both Man and the natural world, and enjoying so much beauty.
 
I hadn't been to the McClung Museum since I was a teenager. And as some of you know, that's been a VERY long time. I remembered that the McClung's main attraction back then was their Egyptian collection. It still is. That, along with many exhibits pertaining to local geographical and archeological history, especially the Cherokee Indians.
I like to take notes when I'm in a museum.
Last week, I jotted down some beautiful phrases from the ancient Egyptian texts:
             "Spend the day happily and weary not thereof
              Lo, none can take his goods with him
              Lo, [...]

Sultry Summer Day: Brownsville, Texas, circa 1959
Waking up in the early morning, to the sound of doves. Lying quietly in the attic bedroom, watching dust motes float through the air on the slanted rays of the new day, under the wings of model airplanes, dipping and diving from the ceiling, beautiful airplanes meticulously crafted and painted by my father and his brothers in the 1920s.
A small breath of wind off the Gulf of Mexico lifts the curtains. Waiting....waiting for my mother and sister to wake up, waiting for the sound of Papa Tello's footsteps on the porch and the squeak of rusty springs on the back door. His footsteps signaled that breakfast was waiting on the dining room table, two big brown paper sacks of sweet rolls and pan semita from Vanny Tilden's bakery.
After breakfast, a little walk out to the garden. Mama Maria's garden behind the wall, paved with gray stone, bordered by raised beds throughout. Fig trees, grapes, pappers, and herbs. A few messy ducks waddling around, [...]

A couple of Saturdays ago, my friend Sonya was here. She came over to record a piano piece in my studio. But of course, as always happens with Sonya, we spent the biggest part of the day in deep conversation. I don't see Sonya very often, probably about once every four or five months. We're both busy with our respective arts and passions. But whenever we do get together, it's as if we can take up right where we left off, sharing and comparing notes about....well, just about everything! And before we know it, one of us will look at the clock and realize that HOURS have passed.
 
Sonya is almost exactly twenty years older than I. She is, in fact, the mother of a girl who was three years behind me in school, a girl who was only peripherally in my circle. In high school, three years difference in age seemed like a chasm. Funny, now that I'm 58, twenty years difference is insignificant.
 
Sonya and I became reacquainted when I was well into middle age. Seemingly by accident, but, as [...]

When Babies Get Old
My big, black, hairy baby Sweetie is getting old. She can't walk very far any more. Both last night and this morning, she let me know that she was tired and had had enough. My baby weighs about 80 pounds so it's not really feasible to encourage her to walk further. And besides, I know she's tired and doing the best she can. If she could walk further, she would. She tries really hard to please her Mommy.
It's a conundrum and an oxymoron: how is it possible that a baby can simultaneously be old? Well, Sweetie's an old dog (if one dog year is equivalent to seven people years, then that would make Sweetie about 67, multiplying nine and a half times seven.) And yet, as everyone knows who has had a dog, even a very smart and mature dog is, in many ways, a baby.  Sweetie is completely dependent on me for EVERYTHING: water, food, and especially, emotional support....she follows me like a shadow in this house.
A couple of days ago, my younger son Walker was sick with a stomach [...]