Back to Black by Snowblink

http://snowblinksays.com/

HOW NOW

Look at you, look at you
Look at you, look at you 

Ancient-treetop from the neck-up and newborn-calf in the knees
Will the goodness we have witnessed stay good for centuries? 

This is so new, how now!
Look at you, look at you 

Honey still hot from the tired bees 
Sweet sap weeping from our favorite tree 
Tell me will the goodness we have witnessed
stay good like this for centuries ? 

You and me, let's get together!
Watch what you call for — all birds have a call 
Look at you, look at you
Look at you, look at you

///////

Released by Outside Music 3/2/2016
Written by Daniela Gesundheit and Dan Goldman
Lyrics by Daniela Gesundheit
Performed by Daniela Gesundheit, Dan Goldman, Barbara Gruska, Johnny Spence, Brodie West, Charles James, Feist (Cameo response on "Tell Me Will The Goodness")
Produced by Dan Goldman, Robbie Lackritz, Daniela Gesundheit
Recorded by Robbie Lackritz, Dan Goldman
Mixed by Robbie Lackritz
Mastered by David Travers-Smith
Photo by Terri Loewenthal. 
Design by Paul Henderson. 

How Now

The unpredictable yet cyclical currents of desire. 

We wrestled with this song so hard as a band; the version on Returning Current is essentially a Remix - version five? Six? Perhaps the song was engaging us in the experience of its lyrics' meaning, a sort of musical dramatization - Cyclone, strict mistress, wanted us to embody the exasperating lessons of desire and attachment, that the more you want 'it,' the further 'it' slips from your grasp. She had a copy of Goethe in one hand, and, waving her other finger at us, she warned 'confusion of the real with the ideal never goes unpunished.' 

Nick Zammuto (formerly The Books) and Daniela have nurtured a friendship and musical collaboration that has spanned over a decade. She sang on several tracks on his most recent album Anchor. As The Books was largely concerned with re-imagining and re-contextualizing found sound and video, perhaps one of Nick's most fluent and elegant languages is The Remix. What luck to have such a master lend his attention to the bones of this stubborn song.

Cyclone Zammuto Remix

FEEL LIKE A MAN 

I feel like a man
haven't cried for weeks now
I feel like a man 
I feel like a man

I make money, I’m in demand
You talk feelings from the edge of the bed
Saying I don't understand 
But you know, I’ve got solutions — I’d kill for you

I feel like a man

Saw the stars tonight dying one by one
Living by a light that's already done
Never tried so hard 
Oh I'm hunting what I can't see

I feel like a man

We who fly over seas to try to make it happen
We who must leave everything that's everlasting 
Never had so much to lose
Chasing hunting cursing killing what I can't see
What can't I see?
///
written by DANIELA GESUNDHEIT and DAN GOLDMAN
lyrics written by DANIELA GESUNDHEIT
performed by 
DANIELA GESUNDHEIT Vocals, Guitars, Harp 
DAN GOLDMAN Vocals, Guitars, Synths
OWEN PALLETT Strings 
THOM GILL Guitar
ARIEL ENGLE Vocals
STEVEN FOSTER Drums
PHILIPE MELANSON Drums
DAN GAUCHER Drums
CHARLES JAMES Bass, Synth

Produced by DAN GOLDMAN, ROBBIE LACKRITZ, DANIELA GESUNDHEIT 
String Arrangements by OWEN PALLETT 
Mixed by STEPHEN KAYE
Mastered by DAVID TRAVERS-SMITH
Published by VISITING MARTHA (ASCAP/SOCAN)
Photograph by TERRI LOEWENTHAL 
Layout and design by Paul Henderson

Released July 12, 2016 via Outside Music 



Feel Like A Man

Torn To Light

THRILLER

P.Y.T.

HUMAN NATURE

DON'T STOP TILL YOU GET ENOUGH

Released on Fire Records in the UK and US, and on Out Of This Spark in Canada

01 Rut & Nuzzle

02 Ambergris

...filled with Motherlove, the thousands within... 

Adonai, Adonai is a text that anchors the Selichot prayers — the prayers of forgiveness in the High Holiday liturgy. The text also appears in Exodus as a how-to for redemption and re-alignment after missing the mark. There is a softness to the language and imagery of this offering that is uncharacteristic of the voice of God in the Old Testament. Images of God “filled with Motherlove” and being “slow to anger” provide the first clues about how we might choose to behave when we inevitably embark on our own forgiveness odysseys. The tone of the prayer is aspirational, hopeful even. 

Pursuit of the ideal is not a fever that evaporates when we feel better, but, as Louise Glück writes, a “second heart” — the earthy, bloody source of our vitality, fueled by an invisible electrical tic that relents only once in our lives.(10) Galvanized by our second hearts we try on the finery of divine forgiveness to see how the fabric feels against our skin, how the words taking shape in our mouths might, in turn, transform us. 

  יְהוָה יְהוָה אֵל רַחוּם וְחַנּוּן אֶרֶךְ אַפַּיִם וְרַב-חֶסֶד וֶאֱמֶת נֹצֵר חֶסֶד לָאֲלָפִים נֹשֵׂא עָוֹן וָפֶשַׁע וְחַטָּאָה וְנַקֵּה
	

YHVH filled with Motherlove, slow to anger, gracious, great in covenantal love and truth: Keeping love for the thousands within, forgiving iniquity and transgression, the missing of the mark, and acquitting.

Daniela Gesundheit - Thirteen Qualities / Adonai, Adonai  שלוש עשרה מידות הרחמים

HIGHLIGHTS : 
String arrangement by Owen Pallett performed by the Macedonian Symphonic Orchestra (Oleg Kondratenko, conductor), Alex Lukashevsky-the-Ancient's voice in minyan, Johnny Spence's disintegration synth, Jason Sharp's weeping saxophone, Dan Misha Goldman's eternal guitar."The touch of forces …"

DESCRIPTION:
Avinu Malkeinu is kind of the patriarchal anthem in the Jewish canon. A choir of atoning congregants stands together to address God as “Our Father, Our King” while petitioning ‘Him’ for various protections and favors. In the progression of the liturgy, this prayer seems to give voice to the toddler mind of atonement. It portrays a worldview wherein we must rely on a punitive FatherGod to bring us everything we seek, and all that we are empowered to do is tremble before Him with prayers on our lips. 

There is, thankfully, an evolution of understanding of the mechanics of atonement as we make our way through the prayers in this collection. Later in the album, God takes on attributes of a “womb-gentle father.” And most importantly, we see the text start to reflect an understanding that to petition a supernatural entity to fulfill our wishlist of earthly desires is to miss the mark. The act of tefillah (often translated to prayer, but which more specifically means self-evaluation) helps us turn inward again and again, encountering and re-encountering the concentric circles of our individual and collective psyches. We no longer need to beseech a FatherGod for what we want because we can transform ourselves into people of integrity. 

As my musical collaborators and I set out to render Avinu Malkeinu, we noticed that the arrangement started to resemble a wrestling match. There are moments of aggression, exhaustion, submission, and return. Throughout the prayer, I continually wield my voice like a glacier — slow, effectual patience — against the staid mountains of patriarchal lineage. Some of the instruments in the piece behave as aggressors and some are a sonic balm. There is no clear victor. 


אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ חָנֵּֽנוּ וַעֲנֵֽנוּ כִּי אֵין בָּֽנוּ מַעֲשִׂים עֲשֵׂה עִמָּֽנוּ צְדָקָה וָחֶֽסֶד וְהוֹשִׁיעֵֽנוּ: 
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ חָטָֽאנוּ לְפָנֶֽיךָ
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ אֵין לָֽנוּ מֶֽלֶךְ אֶלָּא אָֽתָּה
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ חַדֵּשׁ עָלֵֽינוּ שָׁנָה טוֹבָה
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ הָפֵר עֲצַת אוֹיְבֵֽינוּ 
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ כַּלֵּה דֶּֽבֶר וְחֶֽרֶב וְרָעָב וּשְׁבִי וּמַשְׁחִית וְעָו‍ֹן מִבְּנֵי בְרִיתֶֽךָ 
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ סְלַח וּמְחַל לְכָל עֲו‍ֹנוֹתֵֽינוּ 
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ הַחֲזִירֵֽנוּ בִּתְשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵמָה לְפָנֶֽיךָ
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ שְׁלַח רְפוּאָה שְׁלֵמָה לְחוֹלֵי עַמֶּֽךָ
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ כָּתְבֵֽנוּ בְּסֵֽפֶר חַיִּים טוֹבִים 
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ כָּתְבֵֽנוּ בְּסֵֽפֶר פַּרְנָסָה וְכַלְכָּלָה 
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ כָּתְבֵֽנוּ בְּסֵֽפֶר זְכֻיּוֹת 
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ כָּתְבֵֽנוּ בְּסֵֽפֶר סְלִיחָה וּמְחִילָה 
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ חֲמוֹל עָלֵֽינוּ וְעַל עוֹלָלֵֽינוּ וְטַפֵּֽנוּ
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ פְּתַח שַׁעֲרֵי שָׁמַֽיִם לִתְפִלָּתֵֽנוּ
אָבִֽינוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ עֲשֵׂה לְמַֽעַן בָּאֵי בָאֵשׁ וּבַמַּֽיִם עַל קִדּוּשׁ שְׁמֶֽךָ 


Our Father, Our King — 
We have done wrong before You. 
Let this be a good year for us. 
Destroy the power of every oppressor. 
Remove from all Your children disease, war, famine, exile, and destruction. 
Forgive and pardon all our wrong-doing. 
May we return to You in earnest repentance. 
Send complete healing to all who are sick. 
Inscribe us in Your book for a life of goodness. 
Inscribe us in the book of sustenance. 
Inscribe us in the book of meritorious acts. 
Inscribe us in the book of forgiveness and reconciliation. 
Show mercy to us and our children. 
Open the gates of heaven to our prayer. 
Do it for the sake of those who went through fire and water to honor Your name. 
Be gracious and respond to us, for we have too few good deeds; act towards us with justice tempered by love, and redeem us.

Daniela Gesundheit - Our Father, Our King / Avinu Malkeinu אבינו מלכנו

HIGHLIGHTS: Autoharp haunting by Basia Bulat, Lost-soul saxophone by Jason Sharp, and eternal guitar by Dan Goldman. Who shall have rest, and who can never be still? 


DESCRIPTION

“On Rosh Hashanah it is written, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed in the book of life — who shall live, and who shall die.” The ten days that transpire between the Jewish New Year and the Day of Atonement are of critical spiritual import. For these ten days the gates of forgiveness are open, and if we can examine our misdeeds earnestly enough, we might be inscribed in the book of life for another year.  

The genre of “In the New Year” is horror. The text outlines the various literal ways that we might perish in the coming year. Hearing this prayer chanted in synagogue when I was young felt chillingly similar to the way I felt clicking through the 3D slides of Thriller in my Viewmaster; the anticipation of knowing that, with every shutter of advancement on the little red device, the close-up image of zombie Michael Jackson with the yellow cat eyes could be the next slide. The prayer is meant to instill a sense of dread and urgency, to haunt and unnerve us. It is a confrontational, thundering gore, a reminder that we are going to die, a prod to consider the architecture of our days and the fabric of our desire. 


בְּרֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה יִכָּתֵבוּן, וּבְיוֹם צוֹם כִּפּוּר יֵחָתֵמוּן. כַּמָּה יַעַבְרוּן, וְכַמָּה יִבָּרֵאוּן, מִי יִחְיֶה, וּמִי יָמוּת, מִי בְקִצּוֹ, וּמִי לֹא בְּקִצּוֹ, מִי בַמַּיִם, וּמִי בָאֵשׁ, מִי בַחֶרֶב, וּמִי בַחַיָּה, מִי בָרָעָב, וּמִי בַצָּמָא, מִי בָרַעַשׁ, וּמִי בַמַּגֵּפָה, מִי בַחֲנִיקָה, וּמִי בַסְּקִילָה, מִי יָנוּחַ, וּמִי יָנוּעַ, מִי יִשָּׁקֵט, וּמִי יְטֹּרֵף, מִי יִשָּׁלֵו, וּמִי יִתְיַסָּר, מִי יַעֲנִי, וּמִי יַעֲשִׁיר, מִי יֻשְׁפַּל, וּמִי יָרוּם. וּתְשׁוּבָה וּתְפִלָּה וּצְדָקָה מַעֲבִירִין אֶת רֹעַ הַגְּזֵרָה.


On Rosh Hashanah it is written, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed: 
how many shall pass on and how many be created, who shall live and who shall die, who when their time comes and who before or after their time, who by fire and who by water, who by the sword and who by wild beasts, who by famine and who by drought, who by earthquake and who by epidemic, who by strangling and who by stoning; who shall have rest and who can never be still, who shall be serene and who torn apart, who shall be at ease and who afflicted, who shall be impoverished and who enriched, who shall be brought low and who raised high. 
But teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah
repentance, prayer, and just action,
have the power to change 
the character of our lives.

Daniela Gesundheit - In the New Year / B’Rosh Hashanah בראש השנה

Reclining in a chaise lounge of lagoon
a diminutive waterfall enclave
empties into the ocean. 

Fresh ginger flowers 
taut with sap
sigh perfume to process 
an exhaled trauma.
Euphoric quorum.

I let the sand and sun-warm spring water 
run over my hands.
I catch clams as they tumble
in the water like flecks of Yukon gold.

I explain their lifecycles aloud — 
the healthy clams clamp 
their shells shut very tightly
behave modestly, like chestnuts. 

Some are slightly ajar  
curiosity their killer
they become salt 
like Lot’s sweetheart. 
Others are wide open, yawning.
The creature slips out
the flesh is nacreous cantaloupe orange
swirls in the water like an oil slick.

I know it is precious, what I have lost
what I am losing 
not even a pearl to legitimize my longing
to anchor an inconsolable sorrow.

Daniela Gesundheit - My Cup Overflows / Cosi Revaya כוסי רויה

HIGHLIGHTS: Dan Misha Goldman's psych-death-guitar. "Who is the life of life …"

DESCRIPTION:

Psalm 23, or “Psalm of David,” is often sung graveside at Jewish funerals. Imagery of abundance permeates the text — “He restores my soul … goodness and mercy will pursue me.” There is an incongruence in hearing mourners sing this psalm of praise and thanksgiving as they are moored to the epicenter of their grief. I imagine that they are almost singing it through gritted teeth — to sing the words “my cup overflows” when the heart is scorchingly hollowed out by sorrow seems to be a suggestive inversion. The traditional melody of the psalm similarly lulls — it is hypnotic and optimistic and belies the anguish of the context. 

This arrangement starts out very controlled and builds to a grief-stricken plead with death. Certain parts of the arrangement (the voices, the guitars) maintain a fidelity to appearances, insisting that all is well, while other characters (the bass saxophone) wail in bereavement. This psalm seems to infer that death is certain, life is tenuous, and it is the responsibility of the bereaved to stay alert enough to face the sacred, liminal chasms that profound loss presents to us. 


מִזְמור לְדָוִד,
יְהוָה רֹעִי לֹא אֶחְסָר.
בִּנְאוֹת דֶשֶׁא יֵרְבִּיצֵנִי,
עַל-מֵי מְנֻחוֹת
יְנַהֲלֵנִי.
נַפְשִׁי יְשׁוֹבֵב, יַנְחֵנִי
בְמַעְגְלֵי-צֶדֶק לְמֵעֵן
שְׁמוֹ.
גַם כִּי-אֵלֵךְ בְּגֵיא
צַלְמָוֶת לֹא-אִירָא רָע
כִּי-אַתָּה עִמָדִי, שִׁבְטְךָ
וּמִשְׁעַנְתֶּךָ הֵמָה
יְנַחֲמֻנִי.
תַּעֲרֹךְ לְפָנַי
שֻׁלְחָן נֶגֶד צֹרְרָי,
דִשַנְתָּ בַשֶמֶן
רֹאשִי כּוֹסִי רְוָיָה.
אַךְ, טוֹב וָחֶסֶד
יִרְדְפוּנִי כָּל-יְמֵי חַיָי,
וְשַׁבְתִּי בְּבֵית-יְהוָה
לְאֹרֶךְ יָמִים.


A Psalm of David. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures: 
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul:
He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death,
I will fear no evil: for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies:
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Adapted from 1917 Jewish Publication Society Translation

Daniela Gesundheit - Psalm of David / Mizmor L’David  מזמור לדוד

HIGHLIGHTS: 
"A tree of life . . . take hold of it. Its ways are pleasant ways . . . as in the days when you and we began."

DESCRIPTION:

In 2009 there was an exhibition at the Art Gallery of Ontario by Italian sculptor Giuseppe Penone, an artist of the Arte Povera movement in Italy in the 1960s, called The Hidden Life Within. It took place in a long sunlit gallery filled with large rough cuts of timber into which the artist had meticulously carved, revealing the intact shape of a sapling, the earlier, younger, more slight version of the tree. Each year, trees add a ring of new growth to their trunk’s diameter. So Penone carves away to one of the first “versions” of each tree. We immediately see, as the catalogue for the show observes, “the interdependence among all organic life forms. . . an awareness of a common vital force in all living things. Rather than imposing a form, the artist . . . draws out an existing form.”  Penone’s work alludes to a quiet observation of our inherent natures, an allowance for that authenticity to be revealed, rather than trying to “impos[e] a form” and the inevitable contortion that ensues. Even as we grow, strengthen, provide, sometimes harden, that inner tenderness, that place of privacy and potential, remains embedded in us. This pliability is who we are, regardless of who we fashion ourselves to be.  



עֵץ חַיִּים הִיא לַמַּחֲזִיקִים בָּהּ. וְתמְכֶיהָ מְאֻשָּׁר:
דְּרָכֶיהָ דַרְכֵי נעַם וְכָל נְתִיבותֶיהָ שָׁלום:
הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ ה' אֵלֶיךָ וְנָשׁוּבָה. חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵינוּ כְּקֶדֶם:


Truth is a tree of life for those who take hold of her, how fortunate are her supporters! Her ways are pleasant ways, her paths comprise peace. Bring us back to You, YHVH, that we might return, renew our life as in the days when You and we began.

Daniela Gesundheit - She is a Tree of Life / Etz Hayim Hi עץ חיים היא

HIGHLIGHTS: Timpani of the Gods by Evan Cartwright, Harp of Clear Seeing by Sarah Pagé. Melody by Hanna Tiferet Siegel.  "All my bones shall say, 'Incomparable'…"


DESCRIPTION:

The lines of Mi Chamocha are excerpted from “Song of the Sea,” or Shirat Hayam, a poem which appears in Exodus just after the Israelites escape slavery in Egypt. Their feet still wet from crossing the Red Sea, which had split open on their behalf (a supernatural tailwind to assist in their brave ascent to freedom), they break into song, acknowledging the incomparable wonder they have just experienced. 

The suddenness with which they were catapulted out of slavery unleashed havoc and doubt. They had barely made it outside the city gates when they realized they were being pursued, their freedoms in danger of being annulled. The voices of their masters, the sting of their discipline, were the authorities that had commanded the trajectory of their grueling days for as long as they could remember, for generations. Suddenly each person in the caravan was faced with vast swaths of unknowable desert, figurative and literal. In the face of that fearsome expanse, the song asks, “Who is like You, YHVH, compared to the powers humans worship?” This question becomes both a balm and a riddle to turn over and over through forty years of desert wandering. 

מִי כָמֹֽכָה בָּאֵלִם יְהֹוָה מִי כָּמֹֽכָה נֶאְדָּר בַּקֹּֽדֶשׁ נוֹרָא תְהִלֹּת עֹֽשֵׂה פֶלֶא


Who is like You, YHVH, compared to the powers humans worship? 
Who is like You, majestic in holiness, awesome in glory, doing wonders?

Daniela Gesundheit - Who is Like You / Mi Chamocha  מי כמכה

HIGHLIGHTS: Sara Pagé's oracular harp."For You silence is praise …" 


DESCRIPTION: 

The feminine presence of God, Shekhina, sends you a really good idea, intending to share something — it has only just occurred to her, and she wants to be sure you are the first to know. First it sounds like chatter; she is excited. Then she gets very serious, like she is going to kiss you. Her pupils dilate, the air slows, the room brightens uncomfortably, her scent pours over your face and shoulders, warmly at first, then it begins to burn: jasmine and ylang ylang become clove and camphor. You grow accustomed to her proximity, smoke masking the scent of hand in hive, you just blink gently, patiently, try to listen. Her ideas are not words, they are light mixed with a metallic taste, they feel like sailboats catching wind on every surface of your brain's grey sea, the sails billow and whip about, billow and tear. Suddenly, just the sound of a whole city turning instantly to white flour behind you — muffled sound of flash on school picture day.

Daniela Gesundheit - Opposite the Seraphim / מול השרפים

HIGHLIGHTS:  Johnny Spence's effulgent piano, Alex Lukashevsky-the-Ancient's voice in minyan. "The brilliance even of a handful of world …"

DESCRIPTION:

Birkat Kohanim unfolds over the course of three lines, like an asymmetrical Hebrew haiku where the lines lengthen syllabically as the blessing progresses. Between each affirmation, there is a responsive group utterance, “Keyn Yehi Ratzon,” which translates roughly to “Yeah, what she said!” There is also a progression of connotation, from the material to the immaterial, and finally to spiritual abundance. The first line wishes for blessings of physical safety, the second wishes for spiritual favor. Once those blessings take root in one’s life, in that order, the harmonious state of peace can emerge. The poetic form stacks on words in an exuberant gallop towards the bounty of attainment.   

In ancient iterations of Judaism, Birkat Kohanim was recited only by a priestly class on behalf of the congregation. They recited it in the morning, after a ritual purification bath, to avoid the chance of being intoxicated. They would hold their hands out in a lattice formation over the heads of the congregation. The congregation would shield their eyes. The priests, or Kohanim, were the only ones who were allowed to learn the true pronunciation of God’s name. 

There are very few instances of mitigated prayer in Jewish tradition— most of the liturgy provides direct, communal dialogue with the divine. There is an implication with the Priestly Blessing that certain facets of truth and beauty keep us reaching for words,  and lose their potency when named directly. 


יְבָרֶכְךָ֥ יְהוָ֖ה וְיִשְׁמְרֶֽךָ׃
כֵּן יְהִי רָצוֹן

 יָאֵ֨ר יְהוָ֧ה פָּנָ֛יו אֵלֶ֖יךָ וִֽיחֻנֶּֽךָּ׃
כֵּן יְהִי רָצוֹן

 יִשָּׂ֨א יְהוָ֤ה פָּנָיו֙ אֵלֶ֔יךָ וְיָשֵׂ֥ם לְךָ֖ שָׁלֽוֹם׃
כֵּן יְהִי רָצוֹן


May God Bless you and watch over you. 

May God’s face shine toward you and show you favor.

May God look favorably upon you, and grant you peace.

Daniela Gesundheit - Priestly Blessing II / Birkat Kohanim ברכת כהנים

"The world coheres …"

DESCRIPTION:

There is a discernible experience we have when we encounter something new — our cells stand alert, eager to assimilate the unfamiliar sensations, to translate the moment of contact into a language legible to our bodies. The Shehechiyanu is a blessing that marks these first encounters and ensures those moments won’t pass us by. It is sweet on the tongue — like the first bite of the first fruit of the season. 


בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִיעָנוּ לַזְּמַן הַזֶּה.

Blessed are you, YHWH, who has provided us with life, sustained us, and brought us to this moment.

Daniela Gesundheit - Blessing for New Experiences / Shehechiyanu  שהחיינו

HIGHLIGHTS: Dan Misha Goldman's fractal comet guitar.  "Hear… in whatever language you can understand, in whatever melodies you need to understand, but hear…"

DESCRIPTION:

After the harrowing walk across the narrow bridge of atonement and reckoning, a unifying ease and peace starts to surface. We find ourselves in the eyeless embrace of nature, or of God — no scrutiny, just regenerative regard in present tense. 

I have read descriptions of God as all-knowing and all-seeing. In my experience, the divine presence is unseeing. Seeing is a crude version of energy comprehension. We are not watched, surveilled; rather, we are experienced, from the inside out, reflexively and simultaneously. It’s masterful and entire. The act of being perceived with such subtlety is an act of love. By contrast, to be watched is a coarse audit and transmits an anxiety. 

A child develops in the womb unseen for months. The womb is in darkness, shielded from sight, for the privacy of becoming authentically ourselves. Even a mother’s unconditional love is a form of reduction of potential. In quantum physics, this tendency is described as the “Observer Effect” — or the idea that the very act of observation consequentially results in a change on the phenomenon being observed.

For the duration of our first nine months we have this gift of privacy, and at the end of life, as we un-become, the earth takes us, shields us, gives us a comparable dignity and seclusion. Privacy is essential for authenticity, actualization, and truthfulness. Perhaps God is a womb, or burial soil, not a separate entity observing us but a flow and fabric of energy that continually weaves every animate and inanimate being together, generating everything we need to become and eventually to decay. But above all, this presence affords us the privacy to exercise our free will. 



שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ יְהֹוָה אֶחָד: 

Hear and understand; YHVH is our God, YHVH is one

Daniela Gesundheit - Filled With Motherlove, the Thousands Within / Shema שמע

HIGHLIGHTS: Sari Lightman and Romy Lightman (Tasseomancy) priestessing, Johnny Spence's femme dirge synth. "Ancient source of kindness warming the new cold corners of our life …"


DESCRIPTION:

If the high priests were the gatekeepers to the true name of God, and to all of the esoteric threads of Jewish life in the ancient Temple in Jerusalem, and if only those high priests — after a series of ritual purifications — were permitted to recite the Priestly Blessing, then what did those cloistered and guarded utterances and rites sound and feel like? What were the ASMR sensations ascending the spines of the priests as they gathered in ecstatic, private devotion? How did reciting the true name of God re-arrange their cells, driving out chaos and anxiety, instilling a vibrant, luminous array? 

This iteration of the “Priestly Blessing” addresses its recipient in the feminine conjugation and refers to the feminine presence of the divine, the Shekhina. It is a tactile blessing — the text asks God to envelop the person receiving the blessing until peace emanates. Parents recite this blessing to their children on Shabbat —the Sabbath — placing their hands on their foreheads. The blessing is complementary to the rabbinic lore that on the Sabbath, those who approach the day with sacrality receive a “second soul.”  For a moment, let us imagine this text is animate, that upon being sung — with the intention of blessing its recipient — it starts to swirl like a benevolent cyclone, gently lifting up everything and everyone in its path, carrying it for a time, and placing it back down on the earth enlivened.  
 

תְּבָרְכֵךְ יְיָ וְתִשְׁמְרֵךְ

כֵּן יְהִי רָצוֹן

תֵּאֵר יְיָ פָּנֶיהָ אֵלַיִךְ וּתְחַנֵּךְ

כֵּן יְהִי רָצוֹן

תִּשָּׂא יְיָ פָּנֶיהָ אֵלַיִךְ

וַתָּשֶׂם לָךְ שָׁלוֹם

כֵּן  יְהִי רָצוֹן

May God, the divine spirit, bless you, protect you, surround you in light, and bring you peace.

Daniela Gesundheit - Priestly Blessing / Birkat Kohanot ברכת כהנות

HIGHLIGHTS: Alone, alone. A voice in mid-air. "Even in old age they will be bear fruit. Still they will be fresh and full of sap." 


DESCRIPTION:

We have un-vowed, we have pounded our hearts open, we have prostrated ourselves on forest floors, pine needles pressing into our bellies, and we have fissured our hardened shells all to see if there is some shining, iridescent yolk of incorruptibility inside of us. From that place, where the shards of who we once were somehow fertilize the soil around us, a date palm begins to grow in rapid time-lapse. The summation of brokenness feeds the date palm, moves up its proud, upright trunk as sap, moves into its branches, first as blossoms and then as sweet endless fruit. Just glimpsing the palm sway we feel more whole, more alive: “fresh and full of sap.” This perpetual transmutation is justice.   


צַדִיק כַּתָמָר יִפְרָח כְּאֶרֶז בַּלְּבָנוֹן יִשׂגֶּה. 
שְׁתוּלִים בְּבֵית יְיָ בְּחַצְרוֹת אֶלֹהֵינוּ יַפְרִיחוּ.
עוֹד יְנוּבוּן בְּשֵׂיבָה דְּשֵׁנִים וְרַעַנַנִּים יִהְיוּ.
לְהַגִּיד כִּי יָשָׁר יְיָ צוּרִי וְלֹא עַוְלָתָה בּוֹ.


The just will blossom like the date palm. 
They will stand tall like the cedar of Lebanon. 
Rooted in Your chosen House, 
they will flourish in the courts of our God. 

Even in old age they will be bear fruit. 
Still they will be fresh and full of sap, 
to bear witness that Adonai is fair,
that there is no injustice in God’s way.

Daniela Gesundheit - Psalm 92 - The Just Will Blossom Like the Date Palm / Tzadik Ka’Tamar צדיק כתמר

Non-denominational devotional pop music from Toronto / Los Angeles. 

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