Getting comfy with the flute in Tulum. About the moment that fabric turned from nebula to concept.
For the Birds
Flute thrashes time,
miseries expounded,
frustrations extended
Earth a fabric distended
A muddle of marks exposed,
Unspoken vision of calamity asserted
By the mere fact that no one can hear––
I make my way along the beach
where nothing grows,
I see cormorants carve air currents in
shriek of triage, I leave my splintered mark
Would you ever want what you heard
plastered across the wind
If there were not some declarative power
that turned realities upside down,
dangled roots in blue
And reclaimed space as
beyond borrowed-time continuum?
Bring in the donkeys, the brayers, the (re)mixers,
cut and paste soothsayers, who know not what they Google––
what we used to call fixtures.
[This was March, 2015. Out of nowhere my old college roommate, who I may have turned to a path of music and infinite frustration, reappears in the digital realm]
Steve Perry: If your flute thrashes time, I recommend a metronome
Me: I am completely against the metronome, when did anything except that timed to destruct the earth need a regulated beat not coordinated with planting, celebration, ceremony?
Flute playing, cormorants flying, looking at a sky & branches upside down––gaining a new perspective on life each day, or just being heard. Hearing yourself over the din of competing voices and logic. Wilding blend.
Therefore, introduction of metronome is a great idea (Kashup has nothing on this logic, I believe.)
Steve: going hiking you were like "the forest is 3-D and the trail winds one way..." and then I tried to rush ahead and got more lost than ever have in my life....
Me (channeling Dante):
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ché la diritta via era smarrita.
In the middle part of my life
I found myself in a dark forest
where the direct way was lost.
Steve: Oh yes, now it all comes back to me. I remember the very class. Sitting in Purgatorio!?? Shit.
Damon: Professor Brose and the sweet new style. That line of Dante's always stuck with me though... I'm just starting to understand it.
Steve: That was a good text. I'm reading the Anthology of English Literature right now, got through Beowoulf. On to Chaucer, which is like trying to read in Spanish.
Damon: Chaucer is awesome... Boccaccio's Decameron was preferred tho...
Steve: Who was the fem fatal in Dante?
Damon: The fem fatale was that dame Sam Spade almost fell for... Eve. man, I think I just finished writing a classic my friend (Arisugawa Park, now A Beautiful Case of the Blues. Eve, now Evena.)
Steve: yeah?
Flute thrashes time,
miseries expounded,
frustrations extended
Earth a fabric distended
A muddle of marks exposed,
Unspoken vision of calamity asserted
By the mere fact that no one can hear––
I make my way along the beach
where nothing grows,
I see cormorants carve air currents in
shriek of triage, I leave my splintered mark
Would you ever want what you heard
plastered across the wind
If there were not some declarative power
that turned realities upside down,
dangled roots in blue
And reclaimed space as
beyond borrowed-time continuum?
Bring in the donkeys, the brayers, the (re)mixers,
cut and paste soothsayers, who know not what they Google––
what we used to call fixtures.
[This was March, 2015. Out of nowhere my old college roommate, who I may have turned to a path of music and infinite frustration, reappears in the digital realm]
Steve Perry: If your flute thrashes time, I recommend a metronome
Me: I am completely against the metronome, when did anything except that timed to destruct the earth need a regulated beat not coordinated with planting, celebration, ceremony?
Flute playing, cormorants flying, looking at a sky & branches upside down––gaining a new perspective on life each day, or just being heard. Hearing yourself over the din of competing voices and logic. Wilding blend.
Therefore, introduction of metronome is a great idea (Kashup has nothing on this logic, I believe.)
Steve: going hiking you were like "the forest is 3-D and the trail winds one way..." and then I tried to rush ahead and got more lost than ever have in my life....
Me (channeling Dante):
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ché la diritta via era smarrita.
In the middle part of my life
I found myself in a dark forest
where the direct way was lost.
Steve: Oh yes, now it all comes back to me. I remember the very class. Sitting in Purgatorio!?? Shit.
Damon: Professor Brose and the sweet new style. That line of Dante's always stuck with me though... I'm just starting to understand it.
Steve: That was a good text. I'm reading the Anthology of English Literature right now, got through Beowoulf. On to Chaucer, which is like trying to read in Spanish.
Damon: Chaucer is awesome... Boccaccio's Decameron was preferred tho...
Steve: Who was the fem fatal in Dante?
Damon: The fem fatale was that dame Sam Spade almost fell for... Eve. man, I think I just finished writing a classic my friend (Arisugawa Park, now A Beautiful Case of the Blues. Eve, now Evena.)
Steve: yeah?
Dante and Virgil leaving the selva oscura - Gustave Doré
And now for something completely different.
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