A car so hot it congeals into Buddha or a clump of doo-doo.
The long awaited appearance of Cowachunga 3.4. draws near (check this space in a couple hours). The thing about writing a serious work is that you can’t get one thing wrong. Must be in a good, productively unsettled mood to proceed. No bills breathing down the throat that can’t be covered this month. Plenty of sand to jog in and sea that is approximately blue-green.*
The demands of creating as I go are mitigated by the pleasure of feeling like I nailed it, coherently, at a level of my choosing. Not too close to any other writer I know of, not beyond the realm of comprehension.
I have no luxury, as with Arisugawa Park, of holding the narrative up from various angles in intermittently fevered moments over the years, adding and subtracting layers.**
I am creating a book in the raw––Cowachunga is as much of a genre nonspecific work of serial madness as a strictly literary undertaking. It has the flow of life as it is lived.
Listening to an alternate take of Riders On The Storm right now. It is very interesting––this was perhaps Jim Morrison's greatest work as a songwriter and poet. Disturbingly reptile, it reveals the high desert madness in us all––we each and every one of us have descended from life and death struggles, the stuff of nightmare poetics. The real interest is that it reveals something more about the artist who wrote it and his perception of the soundtrip in which it was enclosed. With only one live performance ever committed to tape (the Doors' infamous last, on Bourbon Street) ROTS Take 10 provides a subtle shading, worth exploring.
I am no great fan of George Clooney, but I find kinship with the increasingly Mona Lisa quality of his smile as he ages––this thing called life is not so hard. No one is forcing you to an untimely end, in a bathtub, loaded, or with a gun to your head. Except, perhaps, in a mythical place called Cowachunga.***
Endurancewriter SEO Alert - Damon Shulenberger, formerly Damon D. Dawson of Bandito College. Endurance Writer.
* Less so this year, Boracay is straining under mass tourism’s already limit-breaking weight. New words of 2016: grey water.
**I am getting too old for this patience shit, need to ride the edge.
*** Authorial prerogative, as it is known.
The demands of creating as I go are mitigated by the pleasure of feeling like I nailed it, coherently, at a level of my choosing. Not too close to any other writer I know of, not beyond the realm of comprehension.
I have no luxury, as with Arisugawa Park, of holding the narrative up from various angles in intermittently fevered moments over the years, adding and subtracting layers.**
I am creating a book in the raw––Cowachunga is as much of a genre nonspecific work of serial madness as a strictly literary undertaking. It has the flow of life as it is lived.
Listening to an alternate take of Riders On The Storm right now. It is very interesting––this was perhaps Jim Morrison's greatest work as a songwriter and poet. Disturbingly reptile, it reveals the high desert madness in us all––we each and every one of us have descended from life and death struggles, the stuff of nightmare poetics. The real interest is that it reveals something more about the artist who wrote it and his perception of the soundtrip in which it was enclosed. With only one live performance ever committed to tape (the Doors' infamous last, on Bourbon Street) ROTS Take 10 provides a subtle shading, worth exploring.
I am no great fan of George Clooney, but I find kinship with the increasingly Mona Lisa quality of his smile as he ages––this thing called life is not so hard. No one is forcing you to an untimely end, in a bathtub, loaded, or with a gun to your head. Except, perhaps, in a mythical place called Cowachunga.***
Endurancewriter SEO Alert - Damon Shulenberger, formerly Damon D. Dawson of Bandito College. Endurance Writer.
* Less so this year, Boracay is straining under mass tourism’s already limit-breaking weight. New words of 2016: grey water.
**I am getting too old for this patience shit, need to ride the edge.
*** Authorial prerogative, as it is known.
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