Lucy is flying right now, while you read this. We cannot see her, but she is up there, somewhere in the big blue sky, diligently fulfilling her mission . You probably read about the space probe sent to a twelve-year journey to many asteroids, and yes, the name is a direct mention to the Beatles´s song.

Earlier on the blog, I shared my reflections with you on space missions. This time, instead of a holistic approach, I would like to address the topic from a different perspective. A very personal one, based on the benefits provided by those who never leave Earth: plants.

Growing up in a house, with a garden and a backyard, plants have always been around me. Although apartments have been my reality for quite a while, I always have a few plants at home. Ok, more than a few (it is not my fault, they multiply themselves, you know?)

Beyond aesthetics, I truly believe plants are, in may aspects, real diamonds (sorry, Lucy), and I am not even talking about the importance of the Amazon forest or the urge for more urban green areas. We do not have to go that far. Let me simply talk about my adorable little plants.

They saved my day many times already, and yet sometimes I forget to nurture them. Well, not last week! I bought this great organic plant compost and followed my usual ritual: jazz playing, cinnamon incense (strongly recommend the masala kind) in the air, a hot cup of tea and lots of time.

No rush, no mobile checking, no further worries. Just some quality time taking care of my plants. Ever tried? A miracle worker! To dive deep: Stevie Wonder’s Journey Through “The Secret Life of Plants

Meanwhile, Lucy keeps on flying high. Down here we keep on our usual mess, plenty of bad things, as we are quite aware of, but also full of wonders, as we frequently forget about.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

“Jazz is freedom. You think about that.” – Thelonious Monk

How many lockdown weird habits did you acquire so far? Now don´t be shy, we are all together in this pandemic crazy cruise and it is absolutely fine to find a chill-down activity. My thing is to re-watch cartoons, mainly The Simpsons. Name an episode, any season and I´ve seen it at least twice. To be totally honest with you, the show has been my comfort content for quite a while (check out season 15, episode 22 and find out how I got inspiration for the name of this blog), but since the pandemic started it got way worse, proportionally to my need of being comforted. Before you think I could have found a less silly way of being comforted, let me say that the references on the show already led me to many interesting discoveries, such as the oeuvre of Edgar A. Poe, whose poem The Raven was the basis for my song Nevermore and, lately, the 1967 British television series The Prisoner.

The Orwellian, avant-guarde, psychedelic social critic saga of former secret agent Number Six (“I´m not a number! I´m a man!”), brilliantly interpreted by Patrick McGoohan trapped in an idyllic, yet in many aspects creepy place known as The Village comes as a reference in the sixth episode of The Simpsons’ twelfth season. I could not understand the many hints to the series at first, but after a little research… boom! I got totally hooked on it. I watched all the episodes, read the critics on them, saw the interviews with cast members about the many behind-the-scene stories, learned about Portmeirion and the Six of One appreciation society and, most of all, I enjoyed the music of the show. The irresistible mixture goes from classical music to Carmen Miranda, from spirituals to The Beatles. And jazz. A lot of jazz. 1960´s jazz combined many elements from Africa and Latin America, so expect congas and a very intense mood, which fits quite well the tense plot.

The inspired soundtrack alone could be the reason for my enchantment, not to mention that many issues addressed in the series, such as living under the constant surveillance of cameras and the limits of freedom are more relevant than ever, but I believe that the main element that made me fall in love with The Prisoner was empathy. Being one of the “happy few” still strictly following the hashtag #stayhome, I immediately related to the anger and confusion of the protagonist and his urge to get out, although lockdown in the Village sounds like a super premium triple upgrade to me right now.

Having a home is a huge privilege and I am sincerely grateful for mine, so do not consider this a complaint. I am just pointing out that sometimes, as the main tune in the last episode of The Prisoner says, all you need is love. Love is all you need.

Be seeing you!

G.F.