Vilne/Vilno/Vilnius
Armed with a gelato in my hand and love in my pocket, i am hunting for ghosts, surrounded by linguists and lovers.
In the doorway of every dilapidated building, in the shadow of every old bridge, in the smell of something burning every morning, I am looking for a Jew.
This Sunday I am going to the ohel of the Vilne Gaon. Send me any messages you want me to leave there, I will print them out -- send them anonymously if you wish.
(for those offended by misnagdim, please forgive, I'm in Vilne, I can't not go.)
Despite the Gaon's opposition to Chassidus he was widely recognized by all groups as the leading torah authority of his time. Indeed, when after the Gaon passed away certain individual Chasidim expressed happiness at the news of his death, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, one of the most prominent leaders of Chassidus at that time, issued a public letter forbidding such statements and requiring his followers to speak of the greatness of the Gaon. http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/biography/vilnagaon.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vilna_Gaon
*
matters of the heart of the past week:
Special someone has cut me out, out of her recipe, out of her landscape, out of her myspace (?!?).
I am alerted to the way I embrace.
Last night we raised a gloz of buffalo grass wodka.
I humbly borrowed the legacy, as I learned it, of the buffalo, to make a toast and a bracha. For the sake of my heart, my roomate wanted to raise a glass to NW. I raised a glass to the buffalo. We should all be embraced, fully, and strengthened to be vulnerable enough to return the embrace. The whole body engaged, like the first nations revered the buffalo for allowing them sustenance, solace, shelter, everything the buffalo body could give.
*
my first boyfriend was first nations. I haven't contacted him since transitioning. I think I might do that now.
In the doorway of every dilapidated building, in the shadow of every old bridge, in the smell of something burning every morning, I am looking for a Jew.
This Sunday I am going to the ohel of the Vilne Gaon. Send me any messages you want me to leave there, I will print them out -- send them anonymously if you wish.
(for those offended by misnagdim, please forgive, I'm in Vilne, I can't not go.)
Despite the Gaon's opposition to Chassidus he was widely recognized by all groups as the leading torah authority of his time. Indeed, when after the Gaon passed away certain individual Chasidim expressed happiness at the news of his death, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, one of the most prominent leaders of Chassidus at that time, issued a public letter forbidding such statements and requiring his followers to speak of the greatness of the Gaon. http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/biography/vilnagaon.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vilna_Gaon
*
matters of the heart of the past week:
Special someone has cut me out, out of her recipe, out of her landscape, out of her myspace (?!?).
I am alerted to the way I embrace.
Last night we raised a gloz of buffalo grass wodka.
I humbly borrowed the legacy, as I learned it, of the buffalo, to make a toast and a bracha. For the sake of my heart, my roomate wanted to raise a glass to NW. I raised a glass to the buffalo. We should all be embraced, fully, and strengthened to be vulnerable enough to return the embrace. The whole body engaged, like the first nations revered the buffalo for allowing them sustenance, solace, shelter, everything the buffalo body could give.
*
my first boyfriend was first nations. I haven't contacted him since transitioning. I think I might do that now.