Tuesday, March 19, 2013

march lion


"A few light flakes of snow
Fall in the feeble sun;
Birds sing in the cold"
~Gary Snyder, from, Kyoto: March


waking to  deep freeze
after willow dancing warmth
testing my patience

cats wait by window
for sparrows plaintive singing
eyes alert as sun

if they could, they would
dart through window, triumphant
domestic cat blues

reports say we'll get
some strong sun by afternoon
waiting holds the gift

gliding clear across
sage green and cream living room
catching greater light

strong wind and high tides
make sounds, surpassing others
no measuring joy

grace blurts out, as sun
from left field rising chorus
sounds like we're praying

patiently we move
through tall grasses, ducking down
forehead to ground


Kate Lamberg
3/14/13





photo of emma and shasta, and watercolor, by Kate Lamberg~

march snow


a march snow, so fine and grainy
reminds us of the little grey black white
patterns when there is no tv reception

better off for eyes to see these tiny
points of white wetness, jig jagging
down the slate grey march sky

what we surround ourselves with
as silky sari, embraces our best
intentions sailing across the channels

islands await with open ports
changing auric fields in the night
awakening to snow on purpose

Kate Lamberg

Friday, March 15, 2013

My Russian Adventures, 1974

Landed in Leningrad~Tuesday

Landed in this extraordinary land. Leningrad. Saying the word sounds like Lenin and elegance rolled into one elongated sound of wonder!

Traveling on bus to hotel, through barren, muddy, stark, cool environment.
People blankly walking dogs, waiting for buses, digging in the earth.

The sun speaks a magical message.
Spotted a smiling child running, close to freeing.

Right now, riding down the longest Ave in Leningrad, Moscow prospect.  The parks I witness are limited horror shows.
A strange natural beauty. Signs are frustrating.
In 1703, Peter the first planned the Kirov bridge.

Wednesday~

Woke up at 8:15 am. Still dreaming.
Snow was gently cascading through the chilly air. Through the loss of time, I still feel groggy. Please, don't let this be a hindrance to my fun, and all whom I come in contact with.

They did not serve the greatest breakfast. After miming my way through "bottled water", it was brought to the table warm. Bread and butter seems like what I'll be living on.

Smells are foreign and exotically putrid. Signs and publications frustrate me to no end.

Went to the wedding Palace, where all wait in line to be married. Run by the State, and not the least bit religious in nature. A beautifully ornate building, with a marble staircase, and over-done paintings scattered all around. Flowers are plentiful, and all the people appear to be full of joy.  Everyone is dressed very nicely; I could not help thinking that the nicest outfits were perhaps the only nice things hanging in their closets.

Air is simply fresh as a daisy through the soft dry snow and the beaming sun.
We are on the river, where the ice blocks are floating. Birds find their way in the spaces of air and perch themselves in the crowded parks. Few boys knew how to say "gum" and ask for it. We were prepared in advance, and gladly gave the kids our chewing gum.

So tired. 7000 miles away from home, yet so close to Americans. I'm sharing a room with a sweet older Wisconsin woman. Fine.

Took a bus tour through the city and took in parks, a cemetery, Grand Square, Winter and Summer Palace, and many other famous buildings. The weather is exquisitely wild. It will snow awhile, in lumps of styrofoam thunderously, and when hitting the ground will melt. The end results of the brief flurry is the emergence of the sun, creating a special mysterious glow.

I feel healthy from the combination of wind and snow. It is a bit difficult telling the Russians apart from
the Americans. Although they know who we are. Must be some kind of aura around us. Perhaps ostentatious!

After a tiring bus ride of three and one half hours, popped into the shower, which soothed my headache, in addition to my inner consciousness and well-being.

Out to restaurant, Sadco. Live Russian music, singers, and lively dancers filled the quiet spaces, and brought life into my bones.  I have a strong feeling I am not the only one who turned on to the moods emanated and transcended base levels of ordinary thinking.

Vodka was plentiful--and OH so delightful! Drinking like fruit punch, one glass, as a sip! Learning to love this potent princely beverage.  Talked to a thoughtful woman from Long Island. We discussed yoga, raising kids, and food. Danced with dad, and almost caused us both to faint with my daring twirls.

Why not live it up?  I may never touch this Russian soil again. Be it, now. Tid bits of philosophy, I thought I'd throw in to make this sound like I'm thinking and not wasting away by absorbing all of the monuments. There is just so much one can see.

At restaurant, met a lovely man, Vladimir, and his french girlfriend, Zola,  and sister. Vladimir spoke a few languages very well..(Native Russian, French and English). Dad played interpreter, and I was able to have a wonderful conversation with the two women. We shall see them tomorrow!

Dinner, was beyond compare. All the way to traditional American Apple Pie for desert. They must have smelled us coming.

So tired. Good night dear Soviet Union. I pray for equality for all.
Limitations are sad. Especially when eyes cast upon these creatures are enriched and well aware of choices.  Ignorance is not exactly bliss. But they are so disciplined, and probably won't fall into diversions as easily
as us Americans. 

Thursday~

Got up for native breakfast of coffee and bread and butter. It was OK. Vladimir and Zola came to be with us this morning. It continued to be stimulating between interpreting and learning, and just having a far out time. Zola waned to trade my pink blouse for something of hers. In addition to my pink blouse, I  ended up giving her a few more  items. Just us in a room was totally strange, and at the same time warm impulses were within me. Connecting without language, just being there. A new friend, how lovely.

Vladimer and Zola felt like they owed me something, so we took a mini-bus into Prospect St., and they purchased an adorable monkey bracelet for me. Great people. Vladimir..a true charmer!
We said our fine farewells,  sharing warm hugs, and hopped on the bus, to venture to the Hermitage.

The Hermitage- one of the largest museums~ several Rembrandts, a host of Impressionist paintings, and Paintings of the tsars filled the vast gorgeous building. The first few rooms were in a definite baroque style with gold drippings on pillars, angels and flower painted everywhere. The busy quality  is confusing; however, quite beautiful. Then it tones down, leaving the Baroque room. Saw, "Boy Crouching", by Michelangelo. The back was so breathing, taut-- touchable truths. I wanted to stare and become one with this throbbing statue. After three hours of tiring traipsing through this magnificent museum, hit the bus, and back to the hotel.

Had just enough time to change. Off to the Kirov Ballet. Was a slight disappointment. With my tired eyes,
the first half hour was hard to appreciate.  The Gissele was performed. Music was a little more touristy and flashy(supposedly Russian), with cymbals as frosting. A couple lead dancers performed quite expertly, but their impressiveness died out before the end. The troupe as a whole were fine and tight together. However, a pause in the music forced them to miss something or begin a turn too early.

Went with the only English speaking single man on our tour, Evan, to the tenth floor disco. It was comprised of a few colored lights, mostly Russians or Arabs. Had orange juice and vodka and talked about his musicals, therapy, parents, typical Long Islanders, stereotypes. He said, "there must be a lot of truth to stereotypes, or else they would not be. " I did not agree, but kept my mouth closed. Evan is goofy, funny, and serious. Just a nice pal.  That night I dreamed of an old boyfriend and his mother. To bed. I now realize I dreamed that because Evan most likely is a mother's boy.


Friday~

Woke up very early, for there are not any clocks in a small radius.  Took a stroll along the riverbank,
and felt the coarse snow hit upon my head and shoulders.  With an added ingredient--the wind--it helped the snow to be blown in a swirly line off the side walk.  This in in keeping with the overall cleanliness prevalent in the city.  Not a single wrapper or cigarette butt on the ground. Incredibly pristine. 

When walking into the hotel, I felt a tingle within my cheeks, and a thawing around my temples.  Healthier, I presume.  Beet cheeks in the deep freeze of Russian air.

On our way to Moscow. Plane ride was super smooth.  Fantastic dramatic effects: snow coming down and full fluffy clouds.  Landed in the big city. 

Beauty- building endowed Moscow.  Was a bit of a trip to the Hotel.  This mammoth structure sleeps 5000!
Washed, and headed to bed.  I so needed to take a nap. Bounced up to Chicken Kiev for dinner. Later, took a moonlit hike.

Walking through wonderful Red Square. Passing St. Basel, I was totally enchanted in her fairy-like ambience. Each cupula, or swirly dome (there are five) has their own individual color and flavor.
From blue and white stripes, to orange and red, the cathedral is a living breathing masterpiece.
Each section did not exactly match, but the overall affect was quite moving.

Mom Dad, Art and I went to a Tea Room, called Metropol.  Had  delightful champagne and delicious blinis, done to perfection.  The room was typical of the more affluent part of the common class. Balalaika music filled the air.  My cheeks became rosy from the alcohol, and the residual icy blue air absorbed from the hike.  After we all got good and drunk(was a bit embarrassing), we took it in stride, and walked to Lenin's tomb.

On our way, we captured again the feeling of the square, containing dramatic cobblestone and flood lights.  I hardly can believe we actually are here in Russia.    Maybe after the trip, I will wake up from this seamless dream..of wonder.. of sights and sounds..both foreign, yet wrapped in a inner core of familiar.
One can grow in many directions, yet one can never remove one's self from their roots, their true home land.

Stood and watched the changing of the guard.  Heard it was done in a Nazi style;  that is so sad, even though the soldiers did show their expertise. Took our last stroll for the night around the square. I felt foreign, yet familiar, proud  happy, free, and open to anything coming my way.  Hostilities lifted, and I felt there was nothing interfering with my being close spiritually to these magnificent structures.

Much to see and do tomorrow. This trip might be a once in a lifetime experience.  I am not rushing the events, or trying to get the most out of them.  What extends itself and makes me feel like singing, dancing, running and full of loving energies is a natural occurrence;inescapable once taken under the spell. No moon in view, yet I can feel it's gentle spirit.  Good night.

Saturday~

Woke up to open blue sky meeting gently falling snow.
Visited Church of St. Anne from the 15th Century. A lovely small white church with three cupulas.
Red square was called 'Red" because Red means beautiful.
Peter the first constructed St. Basil and others. A most ancient maze inside.
Moscow has 50 functional churches. St. Basil- constructed to the museum 1919.
Griver Galeena. Forced- with moats around. Right now underneath.

Visited the Kremlin and witnessed the most fantastic riches. Including: royal robes, thrones, coaches, done in glorious gold, and an authentic sleigh. Quite impressive. Two more cathedrals were viewed- Assumption and Archangel. They both were filled with icons.  Both were intensely colored, miniature pictures of people done in a flat fashion. Thrones were rich with jewels. Many cathedrals undergoing restoration.

The armory contained the Kremlin wall. Shows excellent workmanship. (12- feet high and 40 feet long in length). The exact length of our swimming pool at home! Bricks were placed with care, and I have no fear of standing underneath because the solidity of the work's quality.

Taking the bus ride. Stopped to view the vast Moscow River, traded four pins, went to the tomb of an unknown soldier.  Newly married couples come to see this tomb as a tradition.

"Three Muskateers"  Lenin, Marx, and Engels appear in a cool poster bill board. One has to look up to see it. Even if one does not raise his eyes to view it, it will always be ABOVE eye level.

27 professional theatres in Moscow, and 500 in all of the USSR! Past Traveling Gardens, and Chekov's
house.  A small, pink building.   Passed Tolstoy's statue.

Drove past the New Maiden Nunnery. Moscow University one of the highest points. Wide blocks, trees lined up like wooden soldiers at attention.  Snow has fallen, quietness fills me up. Many noisy folks on the bus disturb the quiet feeling, but I cannot disturb myself, thank god. A ski jump was constructed quite creatively. 

View is superb. After the snow, the atmosphere has cleared and my sight is more directed and utilized more fully.  50 orthodox churches.  Moscow film studio, where War and Peace was filmed.
Statistic: 96,000 American Tourists go to Russia, when only 9,600 Russian tourists go to America.

Beautiful vastness has entered my soul, but I would not last here much longer.  So many rich experiences, I have placed my mind open to capture.   Sometimes I cannot absorb it all. 

Just home from the opera,  Red Spades by Tchaicovsky. I  totally enjoyed the 3 and one half hour performance.  The sets were magnificent, with authentic looking snow, and gigantic buildings.  The concert hall was an eyeful, with crystal chandeliers hung like thick mascara.   The singing was quite impressive.  I was happy with myself that I managed to stay awake the entire time.  One of the lead female vocalists at the beginning was a bit breathy, but relaxed and involved her self and her lovely full clean voice to envelope the audience.
The male opera singers had rich  flavorful voices, comparable to wine and cheese. Dancing was a lively, beauteous part of the opera--so unexpected.  Since it was in Russia,  I did not always know what was being sung.  However, when one sense is not being used, other senses are intensified.  My grasp of tonality in voices and extended movements in hands gave me clues to conflicts and peacefulness.

I talked to Evan on the way to the opera.  I'm interested in being friends, pals, and nothing really more. I know he's interested. It bothers me that his mother is always interfering with him. He's 21 and she asks him to put his hat on--Now, really!!  How can anyone grow up with a healthy independent mind and soul with mommy breathing down one's back?

I sat with Arthur in the opera, and I must say he is a nice guy, but a bit nervy. He'll say something cutting, and afterwards say, that he was only kidding. And then "kiddo". Well we all cannot be alike.

Right now I am all alone (how serene) in my section of the bedroom suite.   The view is sensational.  Anywhere I direct my eyes, I come across slender or bulbous cupulas, interesting ornate buildings, and directly below is a circular ave, containing an ancient church. 
Earlier this morning I noticed women  construction workers- digging and throwing, scraping and plowing.
All from this private picture window, about one and half times longer than me.
After coming in from the cold I wanted to warm up with something.  Since no one was around, what could be more natural than Vodka?  I hand squeezed one half of an orange into a small cup of Vodka, and I am sure my sleeping will be quite and easy event.

 My being lonely, is brought out much more in large crowds than being alone.It stops snowing.  When Alone, all I compare me to is me, and newly gained strengths make me feel better about living.  I must say it is fun and fulfilling spending much time by myself. I feel my pulse pulsating.  Even if I did sense someone's pulse, it would not be true after experiencing and testing on me. You're more apt to lose with other people. This is so because they can re-direct you to where your pulse is , even if you are pretty sure, or even know it's somewhere else. Self acceptance comes before group acceptance.  Good Night.

Sunday~

Sitting in dining hall with scrumptious strawberry jelly, and chewy white bread, coffee and cheese; reflecting on me and where my parents are--why they are not joining?   I guess I'm just as conditioned to our closeness as they are.  We're unified at a distance as well.

Visited the Widermans' cousins and had a most wonderful time.  Dad, with his Yiddish, surely came in handy.  My frustration level was high because of the language barrier.  The family lives pretty well, with 2 bedrooms, small kitchen, living room, and dining room.  Had loads of fun trading.  We brought gum, and left them wearing their pins.  Had a huge feast and all got pretty tipsy.  They had one son, 11 years old who seemed interested in learning .  I taught  him the American money system, and we traded coins.
After a few nice hours, it became a bit straining, and I felt the urge to leave the apt, as it felt more cramped than ever. Their lovely hospitality was a double frosting on the cake.  Almost unnecessary.  They begged to take the taxi back to our hotel with us.  Hopped in 2 cabs..and shared warm hugs and kisses goodbye.
A most touching experience!

Took a warm bath and felt my inner and outer being reach an equilibrium of comfort.  Dressed- and out to cocktail party at Intourist Hotel.  We got there late, and filled up on Vodka and OJ.  Much fun that night talking with Evan.

Sat down to dinner with his parents and him.  I'm sure they were aware enough to see that I was alone.  Probably that was the only thing they noticed.  When we got back to the hotel, Evan and I took the moonlit walk down the stairs from the 21rst floor to the 9th floor.  Quite exciting and charming. Guess, at 21, he's past his "pinnacle". He said I was not aggressive, and I noted that he was not either. Stale mate.
To bed.  Love is respect for one's personal independence. Interdependence, if as threaded as tightly as moon and sun could be a disadvantage.

Monday~

Subway, Gums, Economic Fair, Circus, Party.

Woke up at an earlier hour.  Art, Mom and I took an adventuresome ride throughout the subways.  I was amazed at the grandeur and beauty!  Chandeliers and tile mosaics at every station.  The trains were as  clean as  the kitchen table..and efficient as can be.  Every minute a new train appears.  One has a minute to board.  Being late for work is unimaginable! One stop was a palace.  Walls were dressed with fabulously colorful and artsy stain glass windows, depicting peasants, workers; each with their personal design and taste.  Marble is lavishly used at all stations for floors, walls, and over-sized statues. Wow! 
Went to Gums, a 3-floored mall, consisting of stalls for stores, crowds of multi-colored hatted women, well-behaved children and busy men in a hurry.  Not a place for us to shop.

After lunch, went to the economic fair. I was astounded!  This place was similar to our World's Fair, stressing the country's economic stature, agriculture,  science and the arts. A few buildings trimmed with figurines were worth mentioning and snapping pictures. Stood in on a movie in the round(in russian). It was trying to turn tourists onto swimming in France or skiing in Switzerland.

Took a lovely drive around the grounds and viewed 3 man made lakes, old time cigar house(in the shape of) and orchids all around. The sun was breathing life into my soul.  All I wished at one moment was to spend more time walking by the water or through the piney woods.  But, on an 8 day trip, one's awareness level goes to a point in seeing and feeling that not all can be fully digested- a sad perception!  However, if thought of positively, a conclusion readily unfurls: seeking and grasping new experiences adds to past ones, and never takes away from the whole. When acting on selfish motives, what looks good is wanted- ever more more more!  We must throw our hands in the air, and let go of these harmful innate drives.  There appears to be a difficulty in dropping the negatives characteristics. When so low where can one drop them to?
Said our goodbyes to the fairground.
Snow and sun and more snow. Had dinner, and off to the circus.

The End

Mom Dad and Kate, forty years later~







Thursday, March 7, 2013

mindfulness/mindlessness


"I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process." - Vincent van Gogh

if you don't mind, i feel to leave
my mind at the door of predictions
future will be here in time for supper
outside of planning, my present looks clear

tending to a healing heart wears down
the batteries wistfully waiting for full charge ahead
into the wild blueberry  yonder of heart-ache
i know this territory- can trace the old hurts

and make them alive in the spring light

mind will keep the walking wounded walking for centuries
as heart settles in to cups of chamomile and respect for earth:
for stepping into the garden created with her own two hands

i've just dropped the ball on my toes
and don't care if that shows; i'm leaving
my mind at the door of predictability,
tracing the back roads, happily sliding on fallen leaves

Kate Lamberg

snows melting, nourishing spring gardens..photo by Kate Lamberg~~

Monday, March 4, 2013

little we see


“Little we see in Nature that is ours,” ~ Wordsworth.

while we watch the river and contemplate
the endless shifting of thoughts, like a baby's
crying who still sees her self as central
to the axis of worlds' turning, tenderly can we

step back from the edge of the river-that place
where water would like to touch earth(without force)
but makes a move mostly silently- obedient to its course
we're magnetized to higher drier land

no quieter than the edge, yet distance seems
to sculpt a sense of underlying wet earthy truth
beneath the lies we spouted as being all we thought we saw
it's all happening,  with hands that pray, and a single crow's caw

rise up from the clouds of delusion's game
and seize the prize- as melting shame
eyes, sparkling in the springtime sun- we the joyous
inspirers, join hands, spin round--become one!

Kate Lamberg


internet image~ 

Sunday, March 3, 2013

snowy white lines


sacredness does paint
snowy white lines on wood pile
resting until spring

haiku and photo by Kate Lamberg

Friday, March 1, 2013

face it


“The higher goal of spiritual living is not to amass a wealth of information, but to face sacred moments,”
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, from The Sabbath.

 

strolling along the river, she dropped her unneeded thoughts
as crumbs for hungry crows, just in from a long flight
past mid afternoon, a brief stroke of sunlight
broke through the stark towering trees

as a spotlight for strong modern dancers
punching kicking swaying--release
darkness settles in  again, as feet move
in natural movements, only the dancer knows

as she continues to stroll in densely packed woods
slipping through spaces, like an orange thread,
finding her way though the eye of the needle-that
is how history becomes so tightly packed

future, an endless field of forget me nots
standing still in present purpose
there is no time for measuring, figuring
it is all a chine' turn- a flight of fragrance

turning into turning, she spots a point
on the far wall, so as not to become
dizzy-- deliberately she continues--
presently proud of her ability to not give up

Kate Lamberg


trees reach up like modern dancers~photo by Kate Lamberg