Long ago, when I first moved to Massachusetts from Brooklyn, NY, I used to follow a blog by a girl who lived in Boston and wrote of her observations traveling around the city; it was a beautiful, not very well known blog. Sadly she stopped blogging before I could befriend her. But I’d like to write about my own time in Boston walking around today, with my husband Dan and his cousin, this afternoon and into the night. Even longer ago, when I lived in NY and would walk around Manhattan, I liked the idea of “one second connections,” thought to name it that today. I’ll glance around and see someone who catches my attention often in some way I feel I can relate to or admire in them. This afternoon I saw a woman walking and looking in my direction. I glanced her way with a slight smile, of course subtle, don’t want people to think I’m suggesting I know them or staring. She kind of came to a gradual stop a little distance away, appeared like lost in a momentary dream. I can relate to having
You might see that this blog's address is now jadenicolebeals.com , the official author site ;), but still with the familiarity and sentimentality of Blush of Dawn begun on blogspot in 2010 and revived late 2020, and so the domain is really the only change. I am moving toward my next writing project, and at the same time I had begun reading The Waves by Virginia Woolf again, unintentional timing, as I had just finished my second book of poems in all its formats. Words were coming last night, a long, side path opening up to me, one I had not seen, or had gone down before, and I felt a kind of spirit in them that reminded me of that book I am reading without meaning to copy it or trying to. I had felt a natural affinity with the author and had mentioned her toward the end of the post I had written about my own healing story on this blog. I will pick up where she left off. * A memoir story of my own ~ I step in, he sits across from me, I think, 'Oh, that is the priest who
You might see “herbs” listed as an interest on my blogger profile, with the comment, ‘not marijuana for me but it’s fine for others.’ I have not mentioned herbs much, mainly rose tea...and you may have had your fill with talk of Rumi (although this doesn’t mean he’s done here at all), and other ghost poets who’ve possibly made an appearance in my bedroom when I’ve gone to sleep, angels, and of course, the moon, its phase and sign, but tonight I will write an herb-centered post. My cat Peeko loves the scent of marijuana, and when a neighbor had begun smoking an insane amount of it, he’d sit by the kitchen sink and sniff, sniff the air coming up from the drain, as the air purifier was clearing the smoke out of the rest of the apartment and he wanted to breathe it in better. We are both easily affected by it secondhand. It seems to have an apocalyptic effect on Peeko. The second time there’d been some intense smoking from neighbors and the scent was rising into the bedroom, he’d begun ru
I finally found a lotion I love, it’s from a company I ordered from years ago, but then I forgot about it and wanted to see which other scents they had when I remembered a few days ago. And now that it’s arrived my skin is nicely moisturized while also smelling like the pleasant freshness of the Catholic church! This was not my intentional plan, but I am happy with the essence of it and having fun. And so after all the writing and finalizing of things for the last weeks, and today being in the process of setting up a website, I had a much appreciated yoga session with birdsong and warm spring air coming in through the open windows. The scent of the lotion is patchouli. I was thinking if anyone reads my poetry books they know I am lavender-scented, have that down, and I can also experience more beautiful scents. :) Thanks Peeko... Today’s first post: Stepping Out of a Storm
When I was writing the second half of the post last night, new downstairs neighbors began smoking an intense amount of marijuana which was coming up into the room where I was writing. I was becoming very spacey without realizing it (windows open too), and having not reread the post first, I noticed after, that it could be received differently from what I intended in that particular one, which was to be uplifting and empowering. (I saved the words; in a certain form, they may become part of the next book.) So I reposted with just the first half. I am not against marijuana as it can have a good effect on many people, as other herbs can too, was just a note on my experience with the partially deleted post and on the fun of writing freely but also reading back the finished words because readers can’t automatically see a writer’s intention. I can also clear the air now if there’s a lot of smoke coming in. * This song is so beautiful with its gentle, impressionistic sound and boldness. It m
I will sit in the sun awhile in the warmth of it even if I am indoors. But I also enjoy a good storm. There is movement I crave in those too. And this was my moment of sun... and last sip. I was still warmed by the sun a good while afterwards. Last Sip of Tea in the Sun Today’s earlier post: The Waves Roll In...
This picture shows the copy I got from the library but it is on my wishlist as a book to keep. “The waves rolled in...and now come rushing in...with water luminescent as sea glass, stirring the far off, softest sand and what lies in between...” This is not a quote from the book, but the start of something that arose in me. I opened the book, read a few lines, and thought, “Oh hi again!” I had really enjoyed Virginia Woolf’s A Haunted House: Stories months ago, found them very funny and strange in a way that made me smile and laugh with their unconventionality. I was drawn to this one, The Waves years ago and am having a fuller appreciation of it now. Virginia Woolf was born on January 25, 1882, and this month and date is considered to be on the Aquarian-Capricorn cusp marked by “originality.” Love that. The moon was in Capricorn for a few days, which feels to me like earth-fire, and has just moved into Aquarius. * Good conflict can send a story rippling (as Virginia Woolf migh
My sister, Jenna made this beautiful antipasto the way my Grandma had made it each year, in honor of her. Stuffed artichokes made by my Mom. (My husband Dan got cut off here, but half his face is nice too.) My mom is in the center, I’m to the right of her, and my brother in law, Wally is in blue, first introduced on this blog as “the chef.” Manicotti “Mani-gott” cooked by Wally in a traditional Italian style. Painting Easter eggs, photo by me. Wally, Dan, my Mom, Jenna. I painted an egg and gave it symbolism, a little hint of glowing peach, referencing a poem I wrote in my most recent book, “A Place To Meet Sea and Foam,” but then I couldn’t find the egg. (Photo by my mom.) I did find it after. I wasn’t intending to fly away here, just felt like a good, quick yoga moment. Today’s first post: Happy Birthday, Grandma and Happy Easter Post about my birthday dinner: Birthday Dinner and a Lingering Angel
My Grandma and my Mom synced in purple Happy birthday to my Grandma (she would turn 97, first one in heaven) and Happy Easter—how grateful I am for God rising, and also my own healing, as I’d believed in God but not in my own healing’s possibility. I was glad my Grandma knew I had come home from the hospital last March and was better than before; I’d called her while there. When my Mom told her I was well and had gone back home that day, my Grandma said, “What’d she do that for? She was having so much fun there!” :D I was training to become a certified yoga teacher last spring after I came home and she had passed away before I received the certification, but she was happy to hear I was in the process of becoming certified and had encouraged me years ago when I was thinking of taking a yoga class in Brooklyn, NY where I lived. She’d say, “Take more yoga lessons—I’m glad you like them. I want to pay for them.” And here’s a story my Grandma would tell from her life: “I cut out of school
I am so happy to celebrate poetry month and that it has just begun! I’ve been reading poetry awhile as you know and had written two just new ones last night, already forgetting it was the first day of the holiday month and that I hadn’t written any new ones in awhile. Similarly a change in moon sign can shake things up and bring out new visions. I looked at the moon in the night, thought, ‘Ooh how pretty and golden, I got to see it,’ and soon fell asleep again. My first post today where you can hear my poetry: Audio Poetry, A Listening Holiday
A cup of my Rumi tea and a book to read Happy National Poetry Month! If you like listening to poetry read aloud, the site, Bandcamp I’m on is having a holiday that whatever money is given to the artists today, the artists will receive the entire amount. So if you want to download a copy of my book of poems read by me in quietness, today could be a good day to do that. You can also listen by streaming the album on the site for free; the featured track will play first and you can choose to hear any track or play the album from the beginning. It is nice in my experience that the browser doesn’t have to be currently showing on the screen but just open, to continue listening to the album. And thank you to everyone who has supported my writing in any way. I so appreciate this. Here is the link to my audio poetry book https://jadenicole.bandcamp.com/album/a-little-honey-sweetens-the-flame and the paperback and kindle can be found here . If you prefer this artwork, you can save it for t
Envisioning an idea for the next book right now and that is a new blanket on the chair As A Little Honey Sweetens The Flame is complete and published (print, ebook, audio), I am just about to start a new project. A feeling comes of what I feel myself pulled towards next to begin, and I keep it with me. I have been looking at my surroundings, my home, and have little by little been making decorative changes. I usually start by taking away what I don't want and then add in what I want to, with the desire of simplicity and also warmth. I am going to measure a particular wall, find a blank canvas the size I'd like for it, and paint the canvas. I checked my garage this morning to see if I had any art supplies that I’d stored there, and I found a good amount of paint brushes and two blank canvases. I also found two small white porcelain tea cups with calligraphy and red lychees on them, and I brought them inside. I'd like to paint the canvases I brought in, even though they
A picture to represent the feeling of this book. A few thoughts on form, nothing to spoil the excitement of reading. A Village Life , poems by Louise Glück , brings the reader into an unnamed Mediterranean town, and each poem in the book contains a distinct voice that remains consistent throughout it, a coolness, and yet in certain poems this cool tone will break for a moment to reveal a surprising sense of passion or love, and never a shouted one. There are details of place, in nature, as well as a glimpse or slight glare into human nature that make them sensory, philosophical poems. The poems are written in simple language that is never too sparse but feels natural. Reading these poems I was shown different perspectives without preachiness. Without my effort, I found this book open paths for me in my own writing and gently guide me toward my next project. These poems precisely consider how spiritual beliefs, science, and philosophy interplay and at times contrast with one anot
The audio reading of A Little Honey Sweetens The Flame has been released! T he whole album includes 31 poems read by me with a studio microphone and without music, in simplicity, each poem its own track. Maybe hearing poems read aloud is a nice way to rest at the end of the day, or maybe you’d like to listen while driving somewhere. Some people meditate to poetry, listening and closing their eyes. And so this book project is now complete! Here is the link where you can stream the album and you can also download a copy of your own if you wish. A Little Honey Sweetens The Flame Audiobook And a link to the print book .
You might have seen me writing about how I’ve been working steadily on recording my latest book, A Little Honey Sweetens The Flame as audio. I have recorded it with a studio microphone, without music, in simplicity—each poem read aloud by me in quietness. Each poem is a separate track on the album and every poem from the book has been recorded. It was an illuminating experience to hear the poems this way as sound is often an important part of my poetry writing process although I had never before recorded a poetry audiobook such as this. You might like to listen to these poems read to you to welcome restfulness at the end of the day or maybe while driving somewhere. And this audiobook will be available to download as mp3 starting tomorrow, Tuesday, March 30th ! I will post a link on here tomorrow to my page on the site Bandcamp where you can find it.
It seemed Shams had come by again, this time in front of the bookshelf, and also with a few others. I was half in a dream and so had thought I am sleeping now, was past sleep for me even if still early for them, and they left. ;) And later on this morning I realized I hadn't actually found anything written by Shams or read it. So I was impressed that I'd come across this quote, as fire and water had come into my own newest poems in a very noticeable way and I'd liked the expressions they'd brought for me. Here are some words by Shams Tabrizi read aloud. By Shams Tabrizi
It is nice to be moved awhile...by car wheels, nightfall to come, and music. * I am happy to discover I am reading a poet who is living, my heart was beating a little fast with suspense when I was looking to see if she was; her name’s Louise Gluck. She was born in New York City like me and now lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts, near where I live now! I have not been purposely seeking all these New York, New England poetry women.
My grandma’s 97th birthday is soon to come this Easter Sunday. She’d passed away last year a few months after turning 96. At first I wasn’t sure if these holidays coinciding this year were a good thing. But I know what she would say if I thought I couldn’t celebrate Easter happily. “What are you going to do, sit around feeling sorry? What is that going to do? Go, have fun. You deserve it.” I was given the Kindle I’d given her for her birthday as a dear memory after she passed away, seeing she’d read 22 books, had read past age 96, including reading the entire bible twice in her last years, and that she was always passing me and my mom up with reaching the end of a book we were reading, done in a day or two. She’d tell this story: “In high school at the end of the year they’d had an award ceremony, and the principal would say, ‘Jean, you got the award for this...’ and I would go up and get it, and then he’d call me up again, and I’d be so embarrassed, ‘Oh another one?’ and go up again