Valentine Notes

Friends and Family are telling me to lighten up.  Today’s blog post shouldn’t be about climate change, or California politics, education, or the health care system.  They want a blog post about love, for Valentine’s Day. 

And they’re right.

St. Valentine, imprisoned in Rome, would pass notes -- Valentine notes -- to other prisoners, to  give them hope.  These are my notes of hope, because where there is life, there is hope.

Candace Escobar helps me with this blog every week. She is my sounding board and my editor, and she keeps me honest. Candace helps Robin and me with our little company and she is kind and patient with our daughter Lily. Thank you Candace, this is for you.

Julie Murphy -- five years ago Robin and I went out on Valentine’s Night for a date, and you came to babysit. You and Lily made Valentine Hearts with love notes and stuck them all over our kitchen. We loved them so much that we left them there, and five years later they are still stuck to our cabinets, faded and curling, but such a part of the house that we don’t even see them. Now you’re having your baby, and Lily will babysit for you, and make you Valentine hearts.

David Trulli -- you have another art gallery opening tomorrow at Bergamot Station, which I can’t attend, but I want this blog post to promote it.

What I like about your artwork is that there is always a sliver of hope in it.

A woman on a swing, a man wanting more, a vine on a fence, a blade of grass pushing through the sidewalk. Break a leg tomorrow night.

To everyone, this is my Valentine note of hope that I pass to you. Be thankful for the problems in your life that never go away.  If you can say, “My life would be perfect, except for...” that means your life may already be perfect. The “except for” problem -- money, health, parents, children, wife, husband, home - contain the seed of awareness of how lucky we all are. It’s the dark that reveals the light, the yin to the yang, and we all share in it. Until it ends.

Thank you life, for the rock I push. I look over and see everyone else pushing their rocks, and our pain, toil, and joy unite us.

Here are lyrics to two great Valentine songs that capture everything I could ever want to say about the beautiful ache of life and love, and Jobim says it all in fewer words than I’ve already written here. 

Whenever I hear these songs, I think of Robin. My love. With you in my life, I am never alone. You are my blade of green grass that I keep in my pocket wherever I go. Together we can push up any sidewalk.

Most of all, this post is for you.  Happy Valentine’s Day!

The Waters of March

A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road

It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone

It's a sliver of glass, it is life, it's the sun

It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun

The oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush

The knot in the wood, the song of a thrush

The will of the wind, a cliff, a fall

A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all

It's the wind blowing free, it's the end of the slope

It's a beam, it's a void, it's a hunch, it's a hope

And the river bank talks of the waters of March

It's the end of the strain, it's the joy in your heart

The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone

The beat of the road, a slingshot's stone

A fish, a flash, a silvery glow

A fight, a bet, the range of a bow

The bed of the well, the end of the line

The dismay in the face, it's a loss, it's a find

A spear, a spike, a point, a nail

A drip, a drop, the end of the tale

A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light

The sound of a shot in the dead of the night

A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump,

It's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps

The plan of the house, the body in bed

And the car that got stuck, it's the mud, it's the mud

A float, a drift, a flight, a wing

A hawk, a quail, the promise of spring

And the river bank talks of the waters of March

It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart

A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe

It's a thorn on your hand and a cut in your toe

A point, a grain, a bee, a bite

A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night

A pass in the mountains, a horse and a mule

In the distance the shelves rode three shadows of blue

And the river bank talks of the waters of March

It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart

A stick, a stone, the end of the road

The rest of a stump, a lonesome road

A sliver of glass, a life, the sun

A knife, a death, the end of the run

And the river bank talks of the waters of March

It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart

"Waters of March" is track #9 on the album Encanto. It was written by Antonio Carlos Jobim.


Quiet nights of quiet stars

Quiet chords from my guitar

Floating on the silence that surrounds us

Quiet thoughts and dreams

Quiet walks by quiet streams

And a window on the

Mountains and the sea, how lovely

This is where I want to be

Here with you so close to me

Until the final flicker of life's ember

I, who was lost and lonely

Believing life was only a bitter, tragic joke

Have found with you

The meaning of existence, oh, my love

"Corcovado" is track #6 on the album Elis & Tom. It was written by Antonio Carlos Jobim.

David Trulli - Event Horizon - Robert Berman Gallery

Exhibition: February 15 - March 22, 2014

Reception: Saturday, February 15, 5-8pm

Robert Berman Gallery

Bergamot Station Arts Center

2525 Michigan Avenue, B7

Santa Monica, CA 90404