Lucius, Rylant, and Pushing to the Edge

I hate to sound like a broken record, but what can I say? Sometimes the programming on NPR just nails it. And on all these drives between Indiana and Michigan that radio is my companion. Today I heard some All Things Considered and Ted Radio Hour that was spot on. Just when I thought I'd listened to my most interesting story of the day, something else would follow keeping me awake as I headed south.

First up, All Things Considered had a quick interview of the two singers in the band Lucius. They had  their NPR debut early this year with a Tiny Desk Concert.

Ummm...I think I just heard all of my new favorite songs. Especially that first one. Killing it!

On that same episode, I heard from Cynthia Rylant, author of such greats as When I Was Young in the Mountains and The Relatives Came among many others (one of my top 5 of children's book writers). She has a new book of poetry out illustrated by Marla Frazee. It's titled God Got a Dog. According to the interview, Ms. Cynthia has been known to sit down and write an entire book of poetry in one day. I'll have what she's having, right?

And then the TED Radio Hour had this episode on right after I heard from Lucius and Rylant titled "To the Edge"in which 4 adventurers describe what it is that pushes them to dream up and conquer dangerous and thrilling feats. I heard from a polar explorer, a spelunker, a long-distance rower, and a tight-roper walker. The interview of long-distance rower Roz Savage was what really resonated with me. Savage is the first woman to row solo across the Atlantic Ocean (and then the Pacific and Indian...what?). She left her job as an investment banker and started her rowing adventures at the age of 34 when she sat down and wrote two obituaries: the one she'd like to have and the one she'd probably have if she kept on the same path she was on. What would happen if we all sat down and tried that exercise?

Here's to a great week ahead!

Wishing you a "Full October" from Neruda

Little by little, and also in great leaps,

life happened to me,

and how insignificant this business is. 

These veins carried 

my blood, which I scarcely ever saw,

I breathed the air of so many places

without keeping a sample of any.

In the end, everyone is aware of this:

nobody keeps any of what he has,

and life is only a borrowing of bones.

The best thing is learning not to have too much

either of sorrow or of joy,

to hope for the chance of a last drop,

to ask more from honey and from twilight.

-from Pablo Neruda's poem "October Fullness"