I spoke to Brad Kava who reported having played harmonica at the Himalayan Blues Festival (http://www.himalayanblues.com/) which brought to mind Paul Pena’s film, my stint helping Helena Norberg-Hodge and, later, the imagined sound of a prayer bell vibrating to audibility; earlier today I had mentioned to someone that I caught part of the Dalai Lama appearance at a middle school in East Palo Alto, on local cable access.
-
Recent Posts
Recent Comments
pbridge130 on Life as strange as fiction in… Rob Murphy on Anita Wheeler Raiderette Fan C… Timothy Girard on RedVette Band, 1981 petriverse on Don Cherry at Dartmouth mhansen94 on Old Davis band circa 1970 Archives
- December 2025
- November 2025
- February 2025
- November 2024
- July 2024
- June 2024
- May 2024
- April 2024
- March 2024
- February 2024
- January 2024
- December 2023
- November 2023
- October 2023
- September 2023
- August 2023
- July 2023
- June 2023
- May 2023
- April 2023
- March 2023
- February 2023
- January 2023
- November 2022
- October 2022
- September 2022
- August 2022
- July 2022
- June 2022
- May 2022
- April 2022
- March 2022
- February 2022
- January 2022
- December 2021
- November 2021
- October 2021
- September 2021
- August 2021
- July 2021
- June 2021
- May 2021
- April 2021
- March 2021
- February 2021
- January 2021
- December 2020
- November 2020
- October 2020
- September 2020
- August 2020
- July 2020
- June 2020
- May 2020
- April 2020
- March 2020
- February 2020
- January 2020
- December 2019
- November 2019
- October 2019
- September 2019
- August 2019
- July 2019
- June 2019
- May 2019
- April 2019
- March 2019
- February 2019
- January 2019
- December 2018
- November 2018
- October 2018
- September 2018
- August 2018
- July 2018
- June 2018
- May 2018
- April 2018
- August 2017
- December 2016
- August 2016
- June 2016
- May 2016
- February 2016
- January 2016
- December 2015
- November 2015
- October 2015
- September 2015
- August 2015
- July 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
- April 2015
- March 2015
- February 2015
- January 2015
- December 2014
- November 2014
- October 2014
- September 2014
- August 2014
- July 2014
- June 2014
- May 2014
- April 2014
- March 2014
- February 2014
- January 2014
- December 2013
- November 2013
- October 2013
- September 2013
- July 2013
- June 2013
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
- March 2012
- February 2012
- January 2012
- December 2011
- November 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- April 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
Categories
Meta

Prayer bells make me think of kettle bells, which remind me of this short video:
Thanks, Doc. And clicking through to your fine blog I would say that the MRI of the human cortex reminds me of the tie-dyed throngs (but not thongs) at the Grateful Dead shows AND you feature a UCSF doctor toting a guitar (but not Dr. Rupa Marya of Rupa and The April Fishes). Yet still, curiouser and curiouser, how the fields of neuropathology and music/arts/culture overlap…
A couple weird points today one while supposedly out for exercise strolling across campus I met a retired Stanford physicist or so he says named Dimitri (and Luba) in front of the defunct Maya Lin clock-hole, and two a worker at the Redwood health building (Martha?) who directed me towards the new Chihuly in the Lokey Stem Cell Center, and then three a dude named Cameron who works in Bytes Cafe but who was woodshedding acoustic guitar riffs from Oasis and John Fogerty and then I get Dr. Moore’s message about “A Serious Man,” http://movies.nytimes.com/2009/10/02/movies/02serious.html
Denby’s panning of it as “fascinating but insufferable”, compared to Thomson calling it “worthy of Kafka ” — are they all dybbuks? What is real? I was looking for not the fountain of youth but the sandwich of Ike’s — I had read a review in the PA Weekly about a popular eatery on campus — someone said there are two-hour lines. It all comes down to food, art and movies. Luba called Tolstoy a hippie and implied a comparison to me, the bearded, sweatshirt-wearing mid-day cross-campus wanderer. I invoked Elif Batumann and John Felstiner. I have not read Tolstoy but I know of Batumann getting a drop of shampoo at a conference, over the balcony, from another female scholar.