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April 7 2024 F

April 7, 2024
# 1654
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COVER:
Dom talks TEDx

Dom talks TEDx

Fourteen TEDx speakers and support.
Babson College
03 23 2024

TED Talks are influential and captivating presentations given by expert speakers on a wide range of topics. These talks are designed to inspire, educate, and provoke thought. Here are the key points about TED Talks:

  1. Diverse Topics: TED Talks cover diverse subjects, including science, technology, education, design, psychology, leadership, and creativity. Each talk focuses on a specific idea or concept.

  2. Short and Impactful: TED Talks are typically under 18 minutes long, making them concise and powerful. Speakers distill complex ideas into accessible bites, ensuring engagement from viewers.

  3. Global Reach: TED Talks are available online with subtitles in over 100 languages. Anyone, anywhere can access these thought-provoking discussions.

  4. Inspirational Speakers: Renowned experts, thought leaders, and everyday people share their insights. Speakers like Brené Brown, Sir Ken Robinson, and Chimamanda Adichie have become TED icons.

  5. Emphasis on Ideas: TED Talks emphasize ideas worth spreading. Whether it’s a breakthrough in science, a personal story, or a call to action, each talk leaves viewers with something to ponder.

  6. Platform for Innovation: TED Talks have sparked innovations, challenged norms, and influenced global conversations. They encourage viewers to think critically and engage with the world.

In summary, TED Talks are a treasure trove of knowledge, creativity, and inspiration—a platform where ideas come alive and change begins.

AI generated

__________________
Writing
The text of the presentation by Dom Capossela. He’s in the cover picture above, (last row, just left of center, in blue shirt and tie).
For those who would like to see the video of Dom’s twelve-minute presentation, here is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/live/bwgcup6k7z8?si=GbJZj7MmHIl_-PYr&t=13524

"Do You Believe in Magic?" I hope so, because a little bit of magic can make navigating troubled waters manageable.
I’d like to share two snapshots of magic that have altered my life, and then close with an exhortation to be ready to receive a bit of magic of our own.  

The cover of my latest book (above) illustrates one of the thousands of traditional Italian American families that constituted Boston’s North End in the 1950s and 60s, forty thousand people crammed into a tiny, isolated neighborhood scarce 1/3 square mile.  The collaboration of the related or near related families created a safe harbor, a safe neighborhood in which we children developed the foundational elements that prepared us to face life’s challenges. Permit me to illustrate with the first of my two stories.

Italian American families were dutiful. In the morning, everyone pushed off to go to work, to school, or stayed at home to clean, cook, and care for the little ones. But whatever we did, come evening we all converged on the dinner table.

We loved our culinary repertoire. I’m talking great meals, whether the pedestrian broccoli with pasta and chicken, or the outrageous production of the universally celebrated Sunday feast, the Gravy.

Picture a large pot, a cauldron, maybe, crammed with assorted meats including perhaps, a pork roast, London broil, hot and sweet Italian pork sausages, spareribs, pig’s feet, chicken feet, or skirt steak pounded thin, heavily seasoned, and rolled then tied into a braciola set carefully into the pot so it wouldn’t unravel, all the meats happily simmering one on top of the other or side by side in seasoned tomatoes for hours.

The meats varied from week to week depending on what the butcher had or our budgets, except that
always, always, ALWAYS, the pot held a generous supply of our iconic Italian meatballs, the sine qua non of every Gravy.

Nice try, but I’m staying on stage.

I think it was at the dinner table that the magic took root. We spent a lot of time there. Eating. Drinking. Talking. Asking questions. Responding. Encouraging. Criticizing. Gossiping. Laughing, intuitively passing on millennia of whispered recipes, respect for art, love of music, love of love. There is where we developed social skills, emotional resilience, and a sense of security. With such a background, we were ready for all the excitement life could throw at us.

The magic of the family takes place over two decades. This next instance of magic illustrates an instant of magic. The story is where and when my love of the kitchen was born, and being born, nestled into my subconscious, waiting patiently for near twenty years until that moment when it could emerge and wield its transformative magic, overturning my career choice and profoundly improving my life.

My mother was not one for entertaining: her nerves got the better of her. So, hosting a lunch for three of her closest friends in our tiny apartment was a once in a lifetime occasion. Her invitees reacted as though they had won two tickets to a Taylor Swift concert.

On this special day, mom reserved the final thirty minutes before her guests’ arrival to execute the recipe. To her dismay, the over-eager guests arrived a half-hour early. My mother tried to smile. She offered her guests some feeble excuse for her glistening eyes.

I was only eight but could see her anguish. Without being asked, without considering that my prior kitchen experience was limited to casually watching my mother do it, I began to gather the ingredients she would be needing. Tuna Fish, packed in Italy, celery, red onion, red ripe tomato, black olives, lettuce, olive oil, mayonnaise, salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a bowl, a knife, a can opener, (I hope you’re recording this for your own use) and of course, as essential as the tuna fish itself, the loaf of crusty Italian bread hardly out of the oven an hour. That I knew because I had gone out to buy the bread, waiting patiently at the bakery for five minutes until the loaves were ready. I tucked the hot baguette under my arm, headed out the door, and ripped off the heel, chewing on it while I walked home: the errand boy’s prerogative.

So, I finished the mis en place but Mom was still entertaining. She was noticeably relaxing. I took that as a “Go on,” so began the chop. You have surmised the rest. One thing led to another. The chop done, I blended the ingredients, tasted the salad, added more salt, stuffed the loaf, and then cut the baguette into sandwiches, and served the women.

You should have heard the oohs and ahhs when the women bit into their sandwiches.
Bit? If ‘bit’ conjures up a dainty nibble of soft American-style Wonder bread, followed by a delicate dabbing of their mouths with fine linen napkins, forget about it. Think ‘ravenously attacked,’ growling as they ripped resistant chunks of the crunchy subs and chewed themselves into ecstasy.

Their lack of decorum didn’t offend. Quite the contrary. I never forgot, will never forget, how good it felt to create edible art.

Who knew that in the distant future, after four years of private high school, after a BA from BU and
an LLB from BC, after I passed the Massachusetts bar exam and hung out my shingle, who knew that when an opportunity to open a restaurant presented itself, the memory of that tuna moment would awaken and upset my pre-arranged life, my longtime ambition, and that I would spend the next thirty years of my life operating a restaurant?

Let’s take this talk of magic to the here and now.

Many of us are buffeted by the roiling waters that are endemic to new adults: navigating the admissions policies of colleges and grad schools; selecting courses of study and enrolling in required classes; applying for our first jobs and our first job changes; encountering unexpected pandemics; and suffering broken hearts, this latter likely when we found out the Taylor Swift tickets were bogus. As new adults we are keenly aware of our fragility.

But even amid troubled waters we can find respites, islands of calm where we may catch our breaths, compose ourselves, calibrate our compasses, and glimpse the horizon beyond the storm.

We must be alert, not caught off guard when such islands of opportunities enter our lives. Perhaps one will come in the form of an unlooked-for invitation, or an unexpected bonus awarded because you stepped into the breach to help a friend. It might take the form of a serendipitous opportunity to open a restaurant or to act in a commercial.

When such an opportunity presents itself, it is incumbent upon us not to flinch, not to hesitate.
Incumbent on us to seize the moment.

It may be your moment.
Your magical moment.
"Do You Believe in Magic?"

For those who would like to see the video of Dom’s twelve-minute presentation, here is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/live/bwgcup6k7z8?si=GbJZj7MmHIl_-PYr&t=13524

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Commentary
Babson
TEDx
I had the honor of delivering a TEDx talk at Babson College on Saturday, 03/23/2024. The twelve-minute talk used “Do You Believe in Magic,” a book published by Victor Passacantilli and Dom Capossela, edited by Dom Capossela, as its start point.

The day of, this magic moment, I woke @ 3.30am, a common occurrence. I took breakfast immediately: a 12-ounce coffee, 50% decaf, and a half-bun with butter. I did my preliminaries, including shaving and running through the script. I had already read and recited from memory the script at least 100 times and never failed to make changes, a line, a word or two. Every single time. Except today.

At 5.30am I rested in my great chair. Just wanted a moment to permit my eyes and mind to rest.

As I rested, a bizarre event took place in my mind. As in a dream, without willing it, without conjuring it up, in very slow sequence, my talk presented itself to me as an entertainment. Slowly, line by line floated past, each line pausing in front of me until it was sure it received from me the recognition that it deserved. Feeling loved and appreciated, the line moved on, making way for the next.

I was floating above my easy chair, watching myself as I absorbed each line into my consciousness, more securely than ever before. The near-asleep review imbued me with an understanding of my story that hitherto escaped me. I no longer needed to remember specific words. I had written the story. It was mine to tell. Now, I just had to have fun.

After seventeen minutes, I got up from the chair, turned on the lights, and presented the story to the mirror.
I confess that I was brilliant!

Unfortunately, there was no carryover of confidence. When I arrived at the venue I read/recited my script three more times. My moment of truth raced at me, concern and worry tagging after it, Then I was offstage watching my colleague race through her story. My uncertainty grew. This was my first time presenting to an academic audience; to a group of 500 listeners. Critics? Thinking, my friends and family want so much for me to succeed. I want so much for them to feel proud of me. “That’s my dad!” “That’s our friend, Dom!” Am I going to fudge this up? Like, totally? Like, they have to stretcher me off the stage?

Then she walked off, towards me. She had delivered well and I told her so as we passed. “Break a leg,” she responded.

Then I walked on. The key for me was my opening remark, thanking Celina, a student, for recommending this opportunity to me. It broke the ice.

Anxiety pushed me into my main story, but here was to be my second line. It never happened: “And I’d also like to thank my family and friends who helped me during this process. I know how much they are wishing I do well, and I love them for that. I can feel their hopes and am driven by a desire not to disappoint them. Thank you.” That line never happened, but the rest of the story did.

In the event, I pulled it off. How do I know? Here is the mailbag full of my family and friends’ reactions.


Tommy Damigella, President, North End Historical Association

Dom, my dear friend, that was a delightfully magical talk. I just shared it with Rita. Honestly it was superb.
You actually took me back to my mother’s cooking experience.
Also, it reminded me of the many Islands that I stopped on as I finally found my path to the next 45 years of my life in Tupperware, a journey that helped to develop me into who I am today.
And all imbued with an Italian family ethos that I cherish. 

Tommy

Dr. Jim P:
You should have put yourself on the cover 😊It is a big thing – the Ted Talk.
You stood out among the others as real, spontaneous, and natural.

Rick S, Speech Consultant for TED talks:

Hi Dom

Surely, you've spent some time in these past few days basking in Saturday's success. You truly did a great, great job. I hope it's the beginning of a long career as a speaker.

Don't hesitate to be in touch.

Rick Sherburne

Alexis B:
super proud of you and your accomplishments!

Ann H:
Loved the TEDx talk.  I think i remember the Tuna story from your blog. Bravo!!!!!!!

Victor P:
just wonderful, my friend👏👏👏👏👏!

James P:
You were fantastic!! You looked good and sounded good and you caught the audience. You made them laugh and inspired them to believe in magic. Totally genuine.

In addition to the outrageously good “outrageous production….etc.”, I loved:

“Picture a pot.”
“They chewed themselves into ecstasy.”
“Edible art.”
“That tuna moment.”

Maybe you did not get out the line you intended in reference to sitting around the table, but what you said was brilliant in terms of all the things we learned there. Dinner for us was schooling in history and in life.

Very proud of you.

Congratulations and love

Jim

Sammy V:
I watched it DOM,  and now I I finally found out why you went from practicing law to restaurants. And believe me Dom I really for years wondered what inspired you to change disciplines. Never have I thought it could be MAGIC. 

I did [like it] very much. You possess all those qualities that will make it happen. Your delivery was awesome. Proud to be your lifelong friend. 

Fr. Mike, St Leonard’s:
I am so proud of you, my brother. Did a fantastic job! You made us proud. Thanks for sharing with me.

Nicola O, I AM Books, North End:
Bravo Dom!
That was very touching and moving. I'm sure audience members will have left with a bit of a magical feeling.
A presto,

Nicola

Lisa M:
Uncle Dom,
I’m blown away by your TEDTalk. Absolutely masterfully done and there is no better storyteller than you. My mouth was watering with your descriptions of the Sunday gravy and the tuna salad. 

Well done Maestro!

Lisa

Cynthia D:
This was awesome! Great message. Were you happy with the experience?

My Children, Summary:
Dad’s speech starts at 3:45:25… and it’s great!!"

Several Fans wondered:
”Are you a Swiftie?”

Now it’s your turn to judge it. It’s 12 minutes long and tells how the magic of growing up in Boston’s North End helped us cope with life’s adventures. If you want to see for yourself, here's the link:

https://www.youtube.com/live/bwgcup6k7z8?si=GbJZj7MmHIl_-PYr&t=13524

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Kat’s Gen Z Corner  

Dressing for Ourselves

Pride comes from within. 

Dressing Like A Woman

How can a woman confidently display her femininity, her appearance, without attracting unwanted and predatory attention from men? I think, very sadly, it might be impossible.

For many years, I was so frightened of being over-sexualized by the men around me that I hid my body, never wore too much make-up, in genuine fear of drawing gazes. Men always made me cringe, and I never felt comfortable in the spotlight. This was partially because I was so cripplingly insecure that I never thought I could be the center of male desire even if I tried. So I didn’t.

Turning 25 changed things. I now take care of my body and mind, and am no longer a teenager, so my confidence levels have shifted. I have a long term partner, so wielding my body to attract men is no longer a pressure. And I am, slowly, coming to understand that the power of owning a youthful body can be fun – and is fleeting, so should be relished. The last thing I want is to be 64 and kicking my younger self for skipping beach days with friends because I felt a little bloated. 

Last weekend I went to Miami for an EDM festival, where flaunting your appearance is basically a ticket to entry. There, I felt comfortable showing off my yoga tone, knowing I would still be the most conservatively dressed person in attendance. I felt a huge relief to feel proud in my body and confidently select outfits that I will not once I am a mother. I reminded myself to be my age.

But still, I think far too much about how my appearance affects others and relates to the environment I am in. In yoga class, for instance, should I wear form-fitting clothes like most women my age or stay humble inside a baggy t-shirt? I have nothing to prove, but I would hate to make other women feel badly because they haven’t practiced yoga for years like I have. But then again, who am I to think I or my choice of leggings could possibly make other women feel insecure? Is that even my business?

On a dinner date with my partner, should I dress more traditionally elegant (my go-to) or show a little skin or form, to bring spice to the evening and celebrate my figure? I’m sure he would like the latter – but do I? What if I look desperate or out of place by dressing up? What if other women in the restaurant are attractive and I regret not bringing that bold lipstick? 

My poor brain. She works too hard.

TLDR: The last thing I want is to dress for men, but I’ve also spent so much of my life intentionally dressing not for them. What does dressing for me look like? I’m slowly coming to that answer. These are questions most women consider before getting ready for any event, and with time I hope to ask them with less anxiety. The happiest women I know seem unphased by the impact of their style choices on the people around them. If they are the foxiest or most conservatively dressed in a room, so be it. Pride comes from within. 

Dressing for ourselves

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Tucker’s Corner

Being a “movie guy” is tough. I was drawn to the medium because of its universality. Pretty much everyone you meet enjoys movies or tv. It’s the main way humans tell stories at this point and stories are a deep rooted need for most of humanity. The eventuality of being the de facto film person in any community is people wind up wanting to bounce their own opinions of something off of you. Usually to validate their own opinion on something or to see if they understood part of it correctly. When the latter happens I always love discussing a film with ambiguous themes or metaphors. Typically because despite how many films I see I usually need to do the same with other film friends of mine to see if what I took from a film is what they took. Often it’s not and I go forward with a new lens to watch movies through. The other thing that can (and does) happen is people recommend you things. It’s the beauty of the film/tv that for the most part things are very accessible and people recommend movies or shows because they meant something to them and they hope sharing the art with another will have the same impact. If I could stack up all the things people have recommended me over the years that I still need to watch I fear it’d come close to reaching the moon. This is all a longwinded way of saying I had a film recommended to me by Tommy Damigella and I’m very happy to report I enjoyed it thoroughly. Thank you for sharing it with me! This is Cabrini.

Cabrini

There is a terrific scene late in the powerful and old-fashioned epic “Cabrini,” on the eponymous Italian Catholic missionary nun who not only founded a peerless orphanage in New York at the turn of the 20th century (and gave her name to Hudson Heights’ serene Cabrini Boulevard in Manhattan), but also resolutely built a worldwide network of charitable organizations and homes in the decades following.

In said scene, Francesca Cabrini, played with quiet command by a convincing Cristiana Dell’Anna, faces and at long last wins over the until-then villainous and sabotaging New York mayor (John Lithgow), who finally agrees to support her mission. The two toast to their newfound understanding, with Mayor Gould dropping the most patriarchal observation imaginable onto the headstrong and stubborn go-getter Cabrini, a woman who will work tirelessly and won’t take no for an answer. “It’s too bad you’re not a man. You would’ve been an excellent man,” he cluelessly says. In response, Cabrini simply and correctively reminds him that a man could never do what she and her Sisters do.

How right she is in this impressive biopic, directed by Alejandro Monteverde and written by Rod Barr. In fact, the entire film refreshingly feels like a testament to those unique powers of femininity—when one is constantly dismissed for her gender, undermined and told no, one does grow a few additional physical and emotional muscles away from the prying eyes of men. It’s that fortitude that sets Cabrini in motion in 1889 and brings her over to New York with a group of nuns, all appointed by the Pope Leo XIII (Giancarlo Giannini) in a mission to support the city’s careworn Italian immigrant communities. At that time, NYC—just a couple of decades removed from the “Gangs of New York” era—was ruthlessly hostile towards the Italians, the opening cards tell us. The environment was predictably antagonistic towards women. And helpless children were dying in a city that refused to care for its most vulnerable. So defying the odds (and ignoring her flailing health condition), Francesca gets settled in the slums of Lower Manhattan’s Five Points at once, starting to fight an initially losing battle towards all the powers that neither want her nor her country men, women and children.

Much of the film is structured around her false starts, which in turn gives the audience plenty of opportunities to see the kind of womanly stamina Cabrini talks about in the aforesaid scene with the mayor. While it is sometimes laced with Cabrini’s colorful array of supporters, such as a kindly local priest called Father Morelli (Gaimpiero Judica), a precocious orphan and a prostitute played by Romana Maggiora Vergano, “Cabrini” also can’t escape a repetitive flavor due to these endless ups and downs, across a runtime that begs to be tightened.

Still, along with his cinematographer Gorka Gónez Andreu, Monteverde makes it worth your while in the visuals department. There are countless beautifully conceived compositions and classically grand illumination across “Cabrini” that shoots arrows of lights and shadows through New York’s floor-to-ceiling windows, giving us the kind of middlebrow, big-screen period piece that used to occupy our theater screens regularly just a few decades ago. These days, the likes of “Cabrini” deserve praise simply by virtue of committing to a sumptuous cinematic palette and, well, looking like a movie. One sequence in particular, when a group of kids sings Verdi’s “Va, pensiero” chorus to a famed Italian opera singer in order to beg for his high-profile support in their cause, signals that kind of a movie flavor of yore.

If the name Alejandro Monteverde is familiar to you, it’s likely because of last year’s absurd and highly controversial box office hit “Sound of Freedom.” Thankfully, “Cabrini” doesn’t arrive with a controversy to its name. Instead, it humbly challenges its contemporary viewers to ask themselves what kind of a city, country or world would they want to live in—those that favor a select few and leave everyone else behind, or those founded on values of true equality? Cabrini and her Sisters fiercely believed in the latter, erecting something that should be commemorated in the same breath as what the Rockefellers or the Vanderbilts of the world have accomplished (to paraphrase a journalist who portrays their work in support). “Cabrini” is a dignified film that honors the little-known efforts of these fearless women.

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Chuckles and Thoughts
”I'm reading a book on anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down!"
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Six Word Stories
"Bittersweet goodbye, welcome home, healing hearts."

Dear Emily

“Love Letters from Eternity”

On Valentines Day

The Dawn of Creation

“ This is my letter to the World

That never wrote to Me—

The simple News that Nature told

With tender Majesty

Her message is committed

To hands I can not see—

For love of Her— Sweet Countrymen—

Judge tenderly of Me.”

Love

Emily

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dear Emily,

I read your letters again and again. What are you trying to tell me? Why is it that your words

again connect me to something that can not be said or seen that restores me? Is this what

Wittgenstein meant when he said, “ Whereof one can not speak, one must be silent.”

Did you create a whole new language in which we can speak of what can not be spoken,

My Dear Emily?

Choirs and sermons I have heard some the more and some the less but none that speak to me

better than thee, My Emily.

You give me a faithless faith that I can have faith in and invent my fate, My Loving Emily.

Silent musicalities you sing to me “ from beyond the genius of the sea.”

I hear your sweet tonalities you sing to me, My Beloved White Nun.

I see the possibility of a love that seeks not and never needs to find, a breathing living

presence that so nurtures me ,when your sweet voice speaks to me, Emily.

Is this what Saint John of the Cross spoke to us when he said,

“For all the beauty there may be, I’ll never throw away my soul only for something I do not

know that one may come on randomly.?“Do we find love, beauty, eternity itself when we give

up looking for it?

God, I love thee

Emily

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

My Dear Sister,

“ For thou art with me here upon the banks

Of this fair river; my dearest Friend,

My dear dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch

The language of my former heart, and read

My former pleasures in the shooting lights

Of thy wild eyes. Oh! Yet a little while

May I behold in thee what I was once

My dear, dear, dear Sister! And this prayer I make,

Knowing Nature never did betray

The heart that loved her; tis her privilege,

Through all the years of this our life, to lead

From joy to joy for she can inform

The mind that is within us,”

With Love

Bill Wordsworth

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

My Dear Sister,

I used to have insomnia in the loneliness of my room. I awakened at two am before dawn

every mourning. One night instead of mourning, I choose to transform insomnia into

opportunity. Now, I can see when I move out of sleep into the holiness of my room. I invite

the imagination to speak to me and when she speaks I can hear thee.

I remember when, you magically spoke to me disappearing my loneliness into eternity. I know

the courage and humanity this takes. You said, “Hi, how are you?” You looked into my eyes

and I knew you knew I was not there. Like a child un-read and undeterred and never to be

deterred, you said to me again. “ Hi, how are you?” with tonalities straight from Emily. I raised

my thumb into the air and you smiled. I was not alone in the my night any more with your voice

next to me. I could see eternity in your smile. From the darkness of my night your voice

restores me to eternity . In your voice I hear Michaelangelo’s speaking to me from the pulpit

of his Sistine Chapel. I see the painting of God’s index finger touching Adam’s index’s finger

for the first time. Michaelangelo, I could not tell did God create human being or did human

being create God? Michelangelo you did not give me enough information which finger was

creating who. Did you, Michaelangelo, have nothing to teach? Did you only wanted to speak

to me so that I can be?

Michaelangelo, If God created human being in his image, why did God create human being in

his image? Was God lonely too? If you are God and all alone in the universe and you are all

that is and was and will be the only way you can not be the only being in existence for eternity

wouldn’t you be lonely? Like Being looking in a mirror at Being seeing an infinite amount of

Beings into infinity. “Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me?

You must be talking to me I am the only one in the universe with thee.”

“In the room the women come and go talking of Michaelangelo”

Raphael

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

To My Dear Sisters and Brothers,

“Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour “

Light the first light of evening , as in a room

In which we rest and for small reason , think

The world imagined is the ultimate good.

This is therefore, the interest rendezvous

It is in that thought that we collect ourselves,

Out of all the indifferences into one thing:

Within a single thing a single shawl

Wrapped tightly around us since we are poor a warmth

A light, a power the miraculous influence.

Here now , we forget each other ourselves,

we feel the obscurity of an order , a whole

A knowledge which arranged the rendezvous.

Within its vital boundary , in the mind.

We say God and the imagination are one …..

How hight that highest candle lights the dark.

Out of this same light, out of the central mind,

We make a dwelling in the evening air.

In which being there together is enough.”

Tenderly

Uncle Wally

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

My Dear Sister,

Your kind and calm voice enables me

To hear the poets talk to me.

Do the poets speak to you as well?

Did the poets tell you to speak to me?

Do the poets speak to all of us?

Are all of us Poets Speaking to thee?

Your Ever Loving Brother

From Eternity

Raphael Arcangelo

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Last Comment
Waiting. For my face to return to normal and away from the red splotches from the ointment treatment of a slight case of skin cancer. For the scalding of my ham and wrist from a pot of boiling water to repair. For my hammies to recover from that severe strain. For my sleep to return to near sanity, like 4 hours a night. For my persistent cough to abate.
Waiting.
You have a better idea?

  Restaurants that support the North End website we edit and publish: questonorthend.org

Bricco - Our talented kitchen team creates “boutique” Italian food, so-called because it is unique, personal and created for a select and sophisticated diner. The food is complemented by an enoteca (wine bar) with an exceptional selection of all-Italian wines. Our chic and energetic bar serves up great one of a kind cocktails as well as brick oven pizza with gourmet toppings such as prosciutto and fresh mozzarella from Italy in addition with appetizer selections.

Umbria - This classic Italian Steakhouse features rustic cuisine of the region of Umbria as well as a wide selection of Italian-style steak cuts. In addition to the rustic cuisine, guest can also enjoy food and beverages on the rooftop lounge Mia which opens shortly.

Mare - A modern Italian seafood restaurant and oyster bar in Boston’s North End, offering a plentiful variety of options from the sea.

Quattro - Inspired by Italy’s passion for high quality foods prepared with fresh ingredients, Quattro brings delicious foods from simple locally grown ingredients. Frank DePasquale does something few restaurateurs have every tried, melding a full service restaurant that serves wine, beer and cordials with a kitchen equipped with a rotisserie, a char broiler and an authentic Neapolitan brick style pizza oven.

Trattoria Il Panino - Located right down the main vein of Hanover Street is Trattoria Il Panino, “Boston’s first original trattoria.” Our famous pasta dishes are best enjoyed on our covered patio area, open to the breeze and the sidewalk which is prime for enjoying the ambiance of the North End. Our menu combines traditional Italian cuisine with only the freshest of ingredients. 

Aqua Pazza - Charming neighborhood hideaway serving cuisine-jumping Mediterranean small plates.

Assaggio - Intimate bi-level eatery for romantic dining, offering Italian-American classics & a full bar.

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