Helping her mom's haiku dream live on

Amy Losak's mom, Sydell Rosenberg, seen here,
had dreams for her poetry that Losak wants to see live on. 

Amy Losak sent me an email last year after reading an interview I did with Penny Harter who, with her husband, William J. Higginson, published "The Haiku Handbook."  Anyone with a love for haiku poetry eventually finds their way to that book. Losak's mom, Sydell Rosenberg, loved haiku and her work even made it into the seminal publication. According to Losak, her mom always tried to share her love for the art with her daughter. But it wasn't until she lost her mom that she started to take notice of her mom's dedication to the small poems.

"Her haiku and senryu are compact and concise – and yet highly evocative –j visual snapshots of moments in time in nature, urban life and relationships; many of these short pictorial poems are perfect for children who are learning to engage with and interpret the world around them in creative ways," said Losak in an email.

She went on to say that it was her mom's wish to publish an A-B-C haiku reader for children. One time her mom "even had the guts to write to (children's book author) Maurice Sendak proposing a collaboration!"

But she didn't get to fulfill her dream of publishing a haiku picture book for kids. That was why Losak had emailed me. She's been trying to help her mom fulfill her goal posthumously, but not just in book form. Losak has been working with teachers and artists to share her mom's vision of what haiku can offer kids. With her husband's help, a website, Facebook page and Twitter feed have also been made.
Here's a poem written by her mom:

So pale – it hardly sat
on the outstretched branch
of the winter night.

"Mom's word choice is precise – and deliberate in its ambiguity: 'It' can mean or be almost anything.  The first thing that may come to mind is the moon, of course – but 'it' could be a bird: a hawk, an owl, a sparrow, a blackbird, for example.  Or 'it'  can refer to a squirrel or a cat, or a bear – or another branch or a twig.  'It' can be raindrops or snow.  'It' can even be the setting sun at dusk – why not?" she wrote.

I loved her enthusiasm, and of course, the poem wasn't bad either. So I agreed to do an interview and help Losak with her goal of spreading her mother's gift to others.  

Q: Did your mom read haiku to you as a kid?
A: Actually, no, I don't remember my mom...reading haiku to me, or to my brother, Nathan, when we were children. She may not have become immersed in the world of haiku until I was older, around 10 or 12...When I was a teenager and as an adult, my mom would share new haiku she had written and sometimes ask for my feedback and opinion. I think she wanted me to be her first audience – a kind of critical filter, in a constructive way. I confess that I wasn't always responsive, nor was I always overly encouraging – at least, not often enough. Perhaps I'm being too hard on myself, but looking back, I fear I didn't always take her work seriously, although I think I always knew there was something special about her – indeed, she was a little bit kooky (I say this with love). I regret now that I didn't show my appreciation more often – at least, more openly. I wish I had done more to let her know how much I appreciated her. When she died suddenly as a result of an aortic aneurysm in 1996, it was a shocking wake up call.  I – my family – had lost a truly artistic soul.

Q: You are putting a lot of time into sharing your mom's work. What do you think haiku offers kids?
A: They are precise and concise, yet endlessly evocative. A random but astute observation, written down, can capture worlds. Haiku are open to interpretation and at the same time, they get to the point.  Haiku stimulates the imagination but requires discipline as well. Children can use haiku as tools or catalysts for visual self-expression, but also for so much more. I think haiku – because of their short format – can also cultivate a love of wordplay and metaphor. Haiku can help teach or even inspire kids to "see" – that is, connect them with the daily wonders of life on so many levels.

Q: Tell me about the website your husband made. And there's Twitter and a Facebook page as well?
A: The new website, sydellpoetry.com was designed by my husband, Cliff, as a birthday present for me...He created the Twitter account and Facebook page as well.  These sites will evolve, with more haiku and other content. The website is a work in progress. I also may take an iPad art class so I can illustrate her work myself –  and perhaps produce a digital book for children.  Meanwhile, I am thrilled to have these digital destinations for my mom's haiku – an online presence for her. This is my tribute to my mom, many years after her death in 1996. I think she would have marveled at the possibilities of all of this!

What song is Paul McCartney singing at the start of his new video for 'Early Days'?

Chargin’ ahead – a different kind of rationale (the Subaru Forester vs. Dodge Charger)

Thanks to the dealership that understands that my wife and I are conditioned to salivate at the sound of the bells and whistles found in most over the top special editions of American cars these days, we have a new car, a Dodge Charger.

Actually, it was a very rational decision on our part. It was a choice that was even more rational than the Subaru Forester that the Charger replaces in the driveway – and if you’ve seen a Subaru you know that rational decisions are the main reasons these cars get driven off of the lots.

By the way, if you sense sarcasm here it’s because I’ve been reading too many Dave Barry columns lately. But to get back on track, people who buy Subarus are overheard saying things like, “Wow! That rubber floor mat is going to be great when the dog gets sick!” or “NPR is going to sound great on that stereo!”

These are the things that make Subaru owners smile as they blast NPR (by blast I mean play cautiously at a volume level that has been well-researched and can be correlated to an optimal grin level while not hindering good family bonding time en route to the campground/and or the kayaking drop-off point).

To any skeptics who doubt that I know of what I speak, see previous columns on camping, family or dogs. (I have yet to write a column on kayaking.)

But a Charger is a different kind of rational decision. It’s the kind of rational decision that comes to you while howling with your foot on top of a fully depressed gas pedal.

So how was this a more rational decision than a Forester? It was cheaper than the dog, kayak and camper that are required accessories to make driving a Subaru fun.

Do I feel a twinge of guilt about trading in my partial emissions four-banger for a Hemi? Nah, Dodge has it covered. From the heated and cooled cup holders to the dazzling hi-res display that illustrates how my wheels are moving as I roll down the road, there are enough amenities to assuage Texas-sized guilt.
NPR sounds great through my 575-watt Beats by Dre speakers.

“Peeper populations continue to diminish as roadways prevent the frogs from migration routes,” NPR blares.

“What did they say?” asks my wife who I’m assuming would also rather hear the Charger growl down the road than the radio, or our child trying to ask questions about his place in the world.

Kseniya Simonova - Sand Animation (Україна має талант / Ukraine's Got Talent)

How to be a rock star, or at least follow your heart (an interview with Josh Ritter)

Singer-songwriter Josh Ritter fronts a tight band, but his live shows have little use for pomp. The message that comes across is simple. He is happy to connect with anyone who enjoys music as much as he does. Anything else is secondary.

And Ritter really enjoys it. He can’t keep the grin off his face as he sings and plays.

“I’m doing something that makes me really happy and other people are getting something out of it as well,” he said. “I feel good getting up in the morning and I feel good going to bed at night.”

There’s a purity that comes through when talking to him, a certain kind of honesty that’s also evident in his live shows. In an industry of flash, it’s what makes him stand out.

Musically, Ritter knows how to create the big, dramatic moments in his performances — the tension-fraught crescendos that bring audience members to the edges of their seats. But stylistically, he has no interest in spectacle.

While some musicians play up the dramatic moments on stage, Ritter is more likely to shrug them off with a smile as he flubs them. Allow me to illustrate.

Here comes the big moment. Ritter’s band is holding the audience in the palm of its hand as it draws that final chord as far out as it can. This is where a classic rock showman with a big mane might be flailing his arms in wide circular motions, or climbing to the top of a stack of amps, so he can jump off at just the right second.

Ritter realizes he’s in this kind of moment as he’s putting his guitar back on its stand. He contributes a half-hearted gesture, making a slight swinging motion with his free hand and squeezing it into a fist on the last beat. His back is to the audience.

What was he thinking? He was thinking of the next song. The transition he was about to make involved a change of gears. A different sounding guitar was needed for the ride he was about to take audience members on.

In those moments, when a more ego-driven performer might be basking in a spotlight, Ritter is thinking about guitars and plotting where he and his listeners are heading next. Once the band swings in behind him and locks the next song into its groove, Ritter starts bouncing — and smiling — again. He seems to always be smiling.

Why shouldn’t he be? He’s got a dream job, one that many starry-eyed teens would kill for. How he got it, however, is no big mystery at all.

As a kid in Idaho, Ritter found the inspiration he needed for his art in the music of Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan. Specifically, on the album they recorded together, “Nashville Skyline.”

“They were going for something that was different. It really intrigued me,” said Ritter. “There was a heart in it that really appealed to me. They weren’t trying to hit the perfect note or even sing close together. They just sounded like it was a lot of fun.”

After hearing these artists, he headed to Boston to follow his dreams. The city’s folk scene has long been a proving ground for acoustic strummers. The trick was to blaze his own path. He watched the countless musicians around him. Most would never gain the mass appeal that Ritter has. But they had plenty to teach him.

“You can really benefit from watching other people. I’ve had a chance to be with some great bands, some great performers and watch them. See how they manage to make it day to day for six months on the road without going totally nuts,” he said.

Ritter had a hit in Ireland and his career has been growing steadily over the years. But he has yet to hit it big in America. He said he is still figuring out how to define success.

“When it comes to it, you just have to make those decisions for yourself. You either get up in the morning and write or you don’t,” he said.

To me that sums it up nicely. Whether you are talking about one man’s music career or life in general, it boils down to you either get up in the morning and step toward the things you want, or you don’t.

Ritter’s story closely mirrors what other successful people have told me. There really isn’t a secret recipe for success. People love a good story and some stars aim to be a character you’ll never forget. But most of the time, life is more ordinary than that.

Anyone looking for a role model while trying to reach their goals would do well to look in Ritter’s direction, but also, take a cue from him and don’t take it so seriously.

Most decisions are not made at the edges of precipices by daring people with special abilities. Life is designed by the smaller, everyday choices people make, everyday people who don’t stand apart – people who sometimes flub it and forget that they are in the spotlight.

Daryl Hall and John Oates' funny Google commercial: Hall and Oates sing "she's a mangobbler"

Make your desk inspiring

The piece of furniture that I treasure the most is my desk. It is a huge, wooden L-shape that sits nicely in a corner.

In Barbara Ann Kipfer’s book, A Field Guide to Happiness, she recommends “creating an altar” on your desk.

On my desk I have a piece of metal that is twisted into the shape of a frog playing the banjo, a Japanese fisherman figurine, a model ship, two Buddhas, two miniature pewter Hindu gods and a Jesus statue.

Even though a spiritual motif spans across my desk, the altar Kipfer encourages readers to build is not a religious altar. It should just be something that will cheer you up.

“Altar is just one word for a collection of family photos, trinkets and a vase of flowers,” she writes. “The idea is that the place where you work, or wherever you spend a lot of time, should be cheery and inspirational.”

To that end, she suggests that the items on your altar be linked to memories, beliefs or goals. The
important thing is to pick items deliberately. Consider what each one means to you.

The frog sculpture on my desk brings folk musicians like Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie to my mind — minstrels who preserved stories of early modern America.

The fisherman and ship are on my desk because of my love of the sea. A ship on the horizon always sets my imagination adrift. The religious items illustrate the variety of ways in which people reach out of themselves to connect to their surroundings.

Tailoring your desk to your desires might mean setting up family photos to help you appreciate your life. A plaque or trophy can remind you of your achievements.

But as Kipfer points out, altars don’t need to reflect a grand scheme.

“What makes your collection an altar is your intention, which can be as simple as your desire to return to the present moment and be aware of it each time you see your special collection.”

empty flatbed hauling stars –

(I think I just like that as one line...) 

Amber Rubarth has a new album coming out! Here's a bit of a video teaser...

Paul McCartney - The Making Of "McCartney"