I learned a new word today: lagom. It's a Swedish word which encapsulates the concept "just the right amount". A precept of mine.

Life is not in balance lately, because so much energy goes to working. There's no question that I require the income, but there's also the empty feeling which comes from being on the clock so much. A lot of the time, I stay home and cook.



This past week, I did get out a bit. I caught the end of Cold Turkey, the John Lennon tribute at Nietzsche's.



Since I had to work until midnight, I did not perform, although I thoroughly enjoyed the sing-along after. I heard Brian Eno say recently that singing with other people is one of the best things you can do.

"Well, there are physiological benefits, obviously: You use your lungs in a way that you probably don't for the rest of your day, breathing deeply and openly. And there are psychological benefits, too: Singing aloud leaves you with a sense of levity and contentedness. And then there are what I would call "civilizational benefits." When you sing with a group of people, you learn how to subsume yourself into a group consciousness because a capella singing is all about the immersion of the self into the community. That's one of the great feelings — to stop being me for a little while and to become us. That way lies empathy, the great social virtue."

On Saturday, after a wild-goose chase through BECPL microfilm for a non-existent obituary,



The Musician and I went to the Grand Opening of the new Burchfield-Penney Art Center (warning: sound), a 31-hour event (PDF). I was pleased to go, happy to be part of such a sweet move up for Buffalo and art. As I felt about the new Erie Canal terminus, it was well-done, feels like something from another city. (By which I mean, I think, easy to navigate, pleasant, not worn in yet, not broken, not rusted.)



It also felt rather like Wegman's, where you see everyone you ever knew in your life, but don't really chat with them. I saw folks I knew from probably every decade of my existence. It's my town.

And then it was time to get the hell out of there and have a Manhattan at The Place.

Mark Freeland Remembered

I am taping the WLKK (The Lake) tribute/bio of Mark Freeland, if anyone is interested. It's two hours of interviews, music, etc.

The Schvitz

I finally found a bath house in Buffalo.

When I travel, I seek out a few things: foods I can't get in Buffalo, like Ethiopian cuisine, bookstores (especially used), and bath houses. To me, a place with a jacuzzi , sauna (and steam, but definitely sauna) and cold plunge is heaven.

I've been to bath houses all over the world. NYC's Tenth Street Russian baths, Kabuki and Osento in SF, Sauna Deco in Amsterdam (hands down, the winner), a little Korean place in Chicago, and more. When I worked at UCSF, I'd often spend an extended Friday lunch hour in the gym's sauna. Though this was essential to my sanity, I don't prefer an athletic atmosphere.

I like the variety of bodies, the wet air, the wringing out of the pores, the heat, the salt, the opportunity to lose oneself in a ritual which touches every culture.

Tonight, I went to women's night at Buffalo's own Russian-Jewish baths, The Schvitz, on Kenmore Avenue near Starin. $20 gets you towels, locker, robe, and an evening's access to the facilties. Though I had a short visit, my muscles are loose, my sinuses clear, my spirit calm.

***

I needed that deep heat. I've been working nearly every day (4 gigs in total) and on Sunday I devoted about 10 hours to the project of painting my bedroom, a pale yellow called moonlight. I'm a clumsy painter, and my shoulders and hands ache, but it looks nice. I also grocery shopped, hennaed my hair, made granola, and basically dervished all day.

This week: teaching every day. Expect a crispy little poet on the other end of this week.