It’s January- we’re shut up with the cold, and yearning to get out. I like to explore different places, peruse areas of interest, attend functions, meet people and get away from the obsession of this computer once in a while.
Last night, I had the opportunity to go to a reading at the Orange County Arts Council in Chester, New York. The visit had come into doubt, due to the horrendous weather that morning. Accidents were abound, and when I drove my son to school, I found myself one of many parked on main street to walk up the blocked hill (a bus had stopped half way up unable to climb the steep hill and blocked the road; I saw a car behind it literally slide ALL the way down to the main street).
I was placed on some kind of list probably a year ago by a person- Melanie Gold- a theater teacher, poet and writer who sent a group email about this gathering. I spent time trying to piece together where and how I got on the list, but nailed it down to her- I’d met her at a poetry night in a small coffee house in Nanuet. Regardless, after a few email exchanges I decided to check it out.
After work, I stopped home and got an old poetry compilation titled “Hardship” I put together years ago. I was really unprepared and I hadn’t signed on in advance of doing a reading. I don’t like to commit myself to a new place, for me it’s all about the vibe and how the inspiration of people around me, make me want to share.
When I arrived I met the host and executive director Susan Linn, who not just read this very entertaining recipe by the painter Man Ray, but cooked the most INCREDIBLE enchiladas I’d had in some time! Usually, I’m not one to make a pig of myself, but I couldn’t resist the scrumptious food along with fresh guacamole & kalamata olives. There was wine and beer and as much I wanted to partake, I held off due to the horribly windy weather, the mountainous terrain, and the sense of open fields with only a few towns scattered between. The place was opposite a ski area known as Sugar Bush. For some silly reason all I could think of was Neil Young’s song, “Sugar Mountain”- which I think I’ll have to post after this…..
There must have been about 20-30 people there, the conversation was abundant, it was very open and positive. It’s places like this I like to spend my time. I’m usually quiet (at first). I listen perhaps more than I talk, if you can believe that. When you put a bunch of creatives in a room, and leave them there with wine and good food, I don’t think you get more fascinating conversation or ideas.
I shared three poems with a little monologue about each- “Woodwork” (listening to disintegrated dreams from drunks- on my robertswriter.com site), “Caulk on the Pavement” (a NYC observation of a body outline on a busy street) and “#456117A” (a poem on the absurdity of genetic diagnosis as it relates to health insurance- also on my site). The response was positive, which is always a good thing. Positive reinforcement can never be bad…..
The “conference” was tied up in about 2-2 1/2 hours. I was fortunate to meet some wonderful people. Two conversations I had towards the end of my stay revolved around a site called www.artsmap.com -a site which maps out different visual artist places in towns all over the world (those of you in the visual arts- painters, sculptors check it out) and a beautiful Eastern European hat (the kind which you see on many Russians in winter) purchased in Hungary by a beautiful woman named Suzanne. The conversation dove into the need to visit different cultures and places in the world and another website called www.artsinorange.org among other things. Without her assistance, I may have been lost in some remote snow blown area of the mountains (no GPS), but she kindly showed me how to hit the highway (LEAD me to the main road back home……)
Winter is the time of hibernation. It’s the time we lurk indoors, “hermitize” ourselves and wait for the coming of Spring. If you’re adventurous, and take the chance to meet some new personalities, you may find a flower’s bloom in even the coldest weather- such as I did last night. Thanks you Orange County Arts council.
Steve
PS- For the men out there, you might recognized Orange County from the Custom Motorcycle show “American Chopper” (Orange County Choppers). And NO Pauly Senior WASN’T there…… but a few years back I did meet a guy who was a dead ringer for Pauly- I’ll have to tell ya that another time….
When we try and find where we are in the world, we often look to history to show us- in all respects. Some conduct genealogy, some-situations of the past where one can relate to, businesses judge their current standing on past figures. It’s all in how we look back and how we correlate ourselves in the present and the future.
It never ceases to amaze me when the light comes on (the brain light) and we see new things that may have never crossed our paths. It could be that moment you sat down to watch a TV special, or picked up a book, it could be a simple stroll. For me, it always comes in a series of events, which conclude with a beautiful inspirational moment. This moment came a few weeks ago when I sat to watch a special on Pink Floyd aired on VH1. It was all about the making of Dark Side of the Moon.
We are putting together the music for our third CD and given our experimental natures, (and the fact I’d ALWAYS liked Pink Floyd) I thought it could only provide me brain food for our own music. We’re always influenced by others- all ages, all genres, all times and our present environment. I think if you think that you’re music is one of a kind, you’re lying to yourself (in some sort of selfish deceitful manner). For every song that’s ever been heard, been buried in your subconscious, consists as a foundation of your history and your desire to produce your own music in your own way. The more you listen, the better off your are, pulling and creating from these magical memories.
Last night, I received an email- a music track which immediately sparked in me the motivation to write… it shot that creative energy through the roof. It was “Beatlesck” utilizing his (the Mighty JV) creation the Electro-Faustus (a thermin like device). I’d had a song I put to the side probably a year ago waiting for an experimental track called “Backwards”. I won’t go into details, but it made me toy immediately with lyrics. Combined with thoughts of the late 1960’s and early 70’s. All I can say is it makes me REALLY EXCITED.
I execute much of my own pressures, but when I apply the clamps and tighten them, creativity oozes out everywhere.
This year I’ve applied the pressure gauge- 27 days into the new year and already I’ve completed a score and organized the songs for the next untitled CD, beside the artwork for the cover, the writings, the book, and the part-time job.
Next time you feel you’ve been cornered in a box and can’t move, make light of the situation and explore your imagination. Often it WILL set you free.
I went to a new dentist yesterday. I had brought in X-rays and such from my previous dentist who I really liked and approached my new one with caution, as I always do when it comes to new doctors or dentists. The place looked nice- clean and even offered coffee, tea and a host of other “little things” to help make your visit comfortable. A HELL of a long way off from childhood medieval tooth service.
I’m always on my guard. Perhaps it’s the NJ thing, maybe even the tri-state area thing because in the back of my mind, I look at these services as a money making business rather than a “let me help you” service. I think of all the small amenities as “welcome back to our place- let me take your money- after all business is business. (I’m DEFINITELY getting more cynical with age)
The woman who came to exam me and do the cleaning seemed very nice. She was young, and not bad looking, but she did have lips which looked like they had some sort of collagen injections.
As I lay there with her face in mine, my mind started to think…. if a dental hygienist is so concerned about the care of her own face to alter her lips, will she be SO CRITICAL in the diagnosis of my own mouth?? Lets face it, we all judge the world around us based on our own beliefs. Now if someone is sooooo critical of their own looks, does that mean they’re going to be super critical on someones elses? My guess is yes, and it got me nervous. I started to think of plastic surgeons, or dentists, or doctors who take care of “cosmetic alterations”. I mean, I’m happy with my looks, and if I need something taken care of due to a medical NECESSITY- then I take care of it. I’ve had no worries with silver fillings I had in mouth since I was a kid- I faced the fact- it’s part of me. They always say- “if it’s not broken, don’t fix it”. Here I am under the light of a dental lamp with instruments in my mouth thinking philosophically- can’t seem to get away from the crazy thoughts!
As I age, things will need to “updated”- this I understand, but the question of time always plays into the decision. Should I update something now as a preventative measure, or wait for something which MAY NEVER occur? I suppose it’s how insurance companies capitalize on growth. Measured risk.
Turns out I have 3 large fillings very close to each other that have caused a groove between, and bone loss is the result. The prognosis was to get 2 crowns with the hope the gum would tighten up around them and prevent further loss of bone. (Hmmmm, doesn’t SEEM to bother me…..). It wouldn’t involve root canal because it’s early enough. Ok- good enough. One of the teeth has a small cavity around where the filling is which would need to be seen to.
Granted, I did go to my other dentist 6 months ago; a younger guy who uses the same type of digital xrays, and serves on one of the boards of dentistry at that local hospital. Someone I’ve learned to trust over the course of over a decade and he hadn’t mentioned to me about this situation. My thinkin is some people aren’t going to bring up information which isn’t important until its necessary. I felt that way with him. If he wasn’t so far, I probably would have stayed.
I trust my gut. I suppose it’s what we all must do in any decision. Time is VERY much an issue as a young guy, and as we go through life, we’re chained by the very process of it. I was told as a young man, by many an old, to value that time- it grows faster and faster with age. BOY, were they right!
I’ve been lucky enough to know myself and value this information given to me by many an “old” person. I think I’ve done pretty well based on it. Analysis takes time, so now to MULL……..
Today is supposed to be a GOOD day for most according the numerology. The number 19 is regarded as fortunate and extremely favorable promising happiness, esteem, honor and success in one’s plans for the future. My grandmother was tied into numerology. She even did Tarot Cards and Tea leaf readings. It’s true we may lack attributes of prior generations, but we cannot deny them- so in this case I hope numerology works.
On this day 1809 Edgar Allen Poe was born, as well as Paul Cezanne (1839), General Robert E. Lee and James Watt- an inventor. It’s not important in the way of deaths, and the celebration of a death is never a good thing. All work comes to the end of a cycle. It is life which we value, give our attributes, show what we can do with the wonders at our fingertips. Some don’t do their best work until they’re well into their 80’s or 90’s even. Look at someone like George Burns who continued to make people laugh smoking cigars up until age 100. Once the candle goes out, it’s the friends and the family who carry it. Existence can be surreal, especially for those see themselves here instead of there. But for everyone who is here, it’s up to you to make lives lost, yours in a way that improves society. However that may be.
Superstitions make people weary. One of the songs on our coming album is about Black Cats and the presence which brings bad luck on to the viewer. People like to say, “this happened because of that…..”- it’s finding a source of blame when there may be none. It can be comical, but it can also be serious. Some are absolutely crippled by these superstitions. “If I don’t wear my lucky t-shirt the Jets will lose”, or “If I go to bed without eating a garlic bagel- the Twilight gang will get me”. I’m not sure what I believe. I guess I have a little superstitious streak in me, but I’ll not turn blame on it. Bad things happen, it’s inevitable. It’s up to you to see the good side, or the opposite.
Today in 1736 the inventor James Watt supposedly conceived his steam engine while watching the lid of a boiling kettle pop up and down on vapors. What people hadn’t known was he was an instrument maker at a university and took a crude variation of steam engine and improved it. An engine made by a man named Newcomen. BUT, had this crude piece of machinery not been placed into the hands of Watt, a new source of power may not have evolved the way it did, when it did. Thomas Edison did the same type of thing with the telephone. He hadn’t invented it, but improved on it’s original design.
Observation, is part invention in the discovery of needs. We see where there is something lacking. Perhaps we never realized it all along until it was thrust upon us. Pain and anger are often great motivators for invention, if you can channel those emotions into something to give back, rather than destroy you completely. Another secret to life is learn the art of channeling. Certainly, we all have our moments where we would like to take out our frustrations on the person standing closest to us, BUT if you can use that energy to sing or bring the light back. Life could once again be rewarding. See what’s in your heart, give what’s in your heart, and it will come back ten fold.
It’s been a very busy few days and I see no ease. I have many things which I’d like to get taken care of but can only do with the state of a peaceful quiet mind. The gears which turn are not at rest and find their time juggling between music, writing, work, and children- it never ends. It’s not really a problem, because I like to be busy. It’s a matter of focus, and for me, it needs to be done in slots of time dedicated to ONE activity.
I admire women and their ability to multi-task. I’ve always said I can be a great multi-tasker, one activity at a time. I think it’s a genetic thing; men are pre-programmed over the millennia we’ve been in existence to hunt and forage- a full time activity at one time, then to be able to juggle the lives of a family like women do. If you were to look at today’s society where women have joined the work force, it’s understandable there should be so many in top level positions with their keen abilities to juggle what’s important. The one thing which we are all subject to is the emotional side.
I think in general, men have found a way to get around or cover it up more than women. I saw Diane Sawyer broadcasting from Haiti this past week and you could tell she could BARELY keep it together. She stood at one point in front of a pile of bodies just shaking her head. It was a HORRIBLE broadcast. No person should have to witness such carnage, especially when it comes to women and children who are involved, but perhaps people could find the strength in the broadcast of a man. Vulnerability is very accepted in women, less so in men (with exception of the creative type that is)
There is no answer- there is no right, there is no wrong. There is always a side, and there will always be someone on each one. The point being, we will have conflict no matter HOW good one chooses to be. The good people who have gone to help the people of Haiti, will walk away with emotional wounds bound to effect their ways of living. They will see things, no one should see. In the grand scheme of things, plenty of good will come from acts of compassion.
Sometimes my stream of thoughts just flow from one thought to the next (often is the case). I start here not knowing what to write and as I do, it’s like a wave which hits shore and retreats only to come back again. I look and witness others, and the good which exists in this world is overwhelming. Why the news focuses on the other end I have no idea- it’s because MISERY LOVES COMPANY.
There was a show which took place in the 1970’s which lightened up the dread by it’s light hearted subjects. It was a small segment which gave time to those people in small towns through our nation discussing philosophical good. The host was Charles Kuralt- I believe. I saw clips of him going into these small places and talking to blacksmiths, and cowboys, and square dance festivals and things of unique interest.
I think we need a little more of that today. Appreciation of the small things: those little towns which make the United States such a diverse place.
Take time, appreciate what it is you got and always remember there are people out there that literally have nothing.
Steve
I read this and chuckled hysterically. First of all, had he done this today, I’d imagine the crowds would do the same- however, the crowds would know nothing better than to fight because of REALLY LOW IQ’s.
A man advertised that this evening in 1749 he would get on stage and play every known instrument to perfection. He would also get into a tavern QUART bottle, without equivocation, sing several songs and allow spectators to handle the bottle with him suffering inside….. ok….. well that would be interesting if you could SHRINK yourself down to fit in a bottle.
The guy collected money to fill the theater with tickets ranging from 2 shillings (10 pence-about .15- a very hefty amount back then) to 41 pence (.65). The theatre was packed with all these people who couldn’t believe such a feat could take place! AND when the feat DIDN’T take place because of a rich swindler who disappeared after making quite a bit of money- they took their anger out on the theatre. EVEN after the theatre owner agreed to reimburse them their money. They ripped the theater to bits.
Now THAT’S comedy…….
I read my Dalai Lama quote today and it so fits this scenario I have to write it (even though it had no direct impact on me this morning) It is as follows:
“Anger cannot be overcome by anger. If a person shows anger to you and you show anger in return, the result is DISASTER. In contrast, if you control your anger and show it’s opposite- love, compassion, TOLERANCE, and PATIENCE- then not only will you remain in peace, but the anger of others will gradually diminish.”
Here it is 260 years later and laughter is the result. If those people could accept they were indeed gullible, SCREWED, and STUPID, in retrospect maybe they could look back and laugh. One of the secrets in life is to be able to laugh at yourself. I’m sure years later many of them looked back and thought what they did was wrong, perhaps some blamed themselves, but one thing’s for sure- one RICH swindler laughed all the way to the bank! I wonder if he ever thought he’d sell out…..
About a week ago I purchased a one-page calendar on Insight’s from the Dalai Lama. It’s provided me joy every day when I pull the remaining page from the day before. Today’s quote was regarding Enlightenment. In his own words:
“To sum up, to bring about the complete happiness of others it is necessary to become enlightened yourself. When you understand this and resolve to seek enlightenment for their sake this is called the altruistic intention toward enlightenment, or bodhichitta.”
It’s right there- “it’s necessary to become enlightened yourself”. How is this achieved one might ask? I don’t think there is ever an answer to that. You must know yourself and understand yourself, know what brings you happiness, what brings you anger, what brings you depression. If you know what stimulus brings, then you can plan accordingly. If you enjoy quiet walks through the park, but fear dogs- find a place in the forest with hiking paths and little visitors. I’ve always said to achieve the knowing of one’s self comes in seclusion, where self analysis is forced upon one self. The willingness to explore terrains which aren’t familiar also add to it’s discovery.
I don’t claim to know much about Enlightenment to others, but I certainly feel I’ve been there in many ways- know myself best. There’s a song I wrote from a dream, which was pivotal to our first CD- “Your Move”- titled “Enlightenment”. It was a moment captured as it took place, shocking both JV and myself. After a few beers, the groove came on, I thumbed through lyrics, picked out the song and said “roll it”. He said- “sing high” and I said, “ok”. Everything fell into place. It was the one time I KNEW I did something incredibly right, when I saw the look on Mighty JV’s face. After it was finished, he grabbed the lyrics out of my hands and read them: it was a spiritual journey.
The dream pictured me trying to catch a magic carpet (I called it a blanket of knowledge). It was almost in reach as I chased it across the lawn, but it flew into a cemetery and started to get away. Suddenly, it stopped and formed a box. I crawled into it and floated weightlessly, waiting for something divine. Knowing I wasn’t the only one waiting like this, I realized every human has a desire to seek something, and will always continue on through infinity. One demise after another, the dreams persist in one person after another. Enlightenment was there all along. It only took a dream to remind me and here with one quote I read this morning I return full circle to the beginning.
There’s some beautiful songs on “Your Move”- Distraction, which I spoke of briefly yesterday, Jazz Cat- a dedication to my deceased Uncle, Compassionate Man, Visions- losing sight of your place in the world, The Captain- probably the best sounding off the CD and many more. Problem is you can call me a little bias. I mean I am the lead singer and lyric writer…
Hear our song “Enlightenment” at www.cdbaby.com/funkthunder- perhaps one wheel will spin another.
Steve
There are moments when news seems to be nothing but bad. I know we’ve entered one of those times with the awful earthquake in Haiti. It’ll be a time when the majority of news is horrible. There will be small periods dedicated to those that have escaped ruin with their lives, because human nature defines such horror with life and those who were able to escape death.
There are no words to define my feeling of such devastation. I can only wish those people strength, good will and hope. Years ago in the wake of the enormous tsunami which killed over 100,000 in Indonesia, I came across a wood carving in Florida. It was in a small shop in Kissimmee which imported many of it’s goods from Indonesia.
The sculpture was carved from one piece of wood. It was a bodybuilder, a man with what seemed to be the strength of the world, yet he was huddled into a faceless mass. His face buried in his hands by what I imagined he saw. The tremendous hurt he experienced from a natural disaster. He was an image, he was vulnerability.
No matter how physically strong you are, you are at the mercy of a much larger force, and although you can have the likes of Samson- you too, can be hurt, without a cut to your body.
I purchased that statue. It was symbolic.
When confronted by the choice of life and death, one must cradle their emotions, turn inward for strength, trust your internal mechanisms, and by all means have hope. Our world revolves around it, our sanity is maintained by it, and it is absolutely necessary for our own mental sustenance. If there is nothing you can do and you’re at the mercy of uncertainty- then distraction is essential.
One of the things I remember vividly the days after 9/11 was Rudy Guliani telling everyone to get back to work. To continue to live and not retreat in fear- because fear can ruin many a man. Work is a method of distraction in this case. Work can be an uniting factor, tying together people who work for the common good. Those people who are reaching out, traveling to Haiti to help with their rescue efforts, those raising funds, and clothing. Regardless of what kind of work you do, if you have hope, you can tackle or confront any obstacle. Change negativity into positivity, instead of one death, see one life. In the end, one life can change a world.
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Last night I started to dabble with finding information to add to the family tree. Now, that most businesses and records have gone digital, the abilities to locate information have become a wiz.
As far back as I can remember, my father had talked about a poem his mother used to recite to him as a child. It was a long poem she’d learned in school and memorized, about a group of English ships which had come into one of the ports on the English coast line due to a storm (true story). Many ships had chosen safe port but during the night the storm had gotten vicious and thrashed them around knocking them into each other and sinking many in the harbor. The night was so pitch black, the men would be unable to find the coast line and safety, had it not been for the women who saw the catastrophe. They took to their homes and gathered furniture, mattresses, clothes and anything they could burn and lit them aflame on the sands, thus making enormous torches for the men to find their way. Their actions saved many lives, but in so doing, made them sacrifice some of their only belongings to suffer once again.
My father always remembered the poem my Grandmother told him before he slept. He’d looked for decades for copies of this poem, but to no avail. He could tell me some of the information, like where the incident took place and a few other facts, but little else.
By chance (if you want to call it that) I was on ebay one day and I conducted a search on the town’s name. Would you believe an engraving came up- a cut out from a magazine which took place about the same time as the incident AND in the same place (in the 1880’s if I remember correctly). I believed it to be the same incident of which the content of the poem spoke. You know I HAD to get the engraving, and I did. I won the auction. One series of events led to another, being the memory of this long lost poem.
I contacted the library of this town in England, and asked them if they ever heard of this particular poem and incident. I told them of my father and his story, and I was able to get a very lovely person to go out on her own looking for this poem. She’d talked with the historians of the town, and wouldn’t ya know it- she found it- all within a few days. She took the time to type in the poem and send it to me.
Being the poet I am, and the significance of this long lost history, I involved my family in a gift for my Dad- the framing of the engraving and the long lost poem.
Well, you can only imagine after decades of searching for this, the response it gave when coupled with the engraving and it’s beautiful framing. It’s one of those moments where you realize happiness is being able to give someone something which is so significant it truly affects them in a positive way. Such was this gift.
My whole point was eluded to in the telling of this story, but point was- the internet and its amazing ability to give in these small ways is truly a treasure. One which may be neglected by those who have been born into it’s existence.
So- when you’re spending a few minutes in aggravation of seconds going by and not having an answer to a question you seek to gain- step back and ask yourself- is it truly worth getting upset over? With patience comes wisdom- and with help- everything else.
I visited Red Bank, NJ today. First time I’d been there in years. For those of you unfamiliar with the area, it’s a small New Jersey town located on the Shrewsbury River. The river drains into the Atlantic and if you were to follow it from Marine Park (a small location on the river) it’d lead you to Sandy Hook- the peninsula which jets out opposite New York City.
Red Bank is a gorgeous little town which has always had a great potential for attracting people. Since the days of the Pirates and early America, it’s had it’s share of visitors. Captain Kidd was reported to have buried treasure in the area and travel the fresh water river in from the ocean. The British and the Patriots held many skirmishes locally and on the outskirts you can still see a Quaker Church topped by an English crown (musket balls were never able to knock it from it’s perch, but did do damage to the post which held it). The town can call itself the childhood home of Count Basie, and has a theatre built in the 1930’s named after the famous musician. Geraldo Rivera purchased a home on the river and even founded a paper called the Two River Times. Bruce Springsteen has always been a visitor. I bumped into him one stormy day probably 20 years ago- a simple nod of acknowledgement was enough for me. The director Kevin Smith owns a comic book store which holds not just memorabilia from his movies, but an astonishing array of comic books.
I know many of the facts of the area because I was born at the hospital on the river and grew up there as a boy. I have many fond recollections of the town, but back then it was very different. I’d ride my bike into the town, past the old abandon textile factory now called the Galleria. Visit a rowdy bar on the wrong side of the train tracks called the Dubliner owned by my high school English teacher- an obviously very proud Irishman and James Joyce fan. We’d have family trips on a small crabbing boat (nothing elaborate- a row boat)with my father in late August when the crabs ran. It was there I first cussed in the presence of my father when he refused to let us go ashore to pee and I pissed on myself while aiming for the narrow funnel of a bottle. “SHIT” slipped, and he squeezed back his laughter in silence.
I worked at a hotel called The Molly Pitcher Inn as a bellhop. The same place my parents stayed for 3 months when they immigrated from England and the same place I served breakfast late to Peter O’Toole in his room. The hotel was also a stop on a “Red Bank Pub Hopping Trip” I organized back in 1990 which spanned one evening, and every servicing establishment there- all walking distance from each other.
Today, the town is more like a stop on the yuppieville train. The potential of success brought not just people but business. In the times before the economy went sour, plenty of retailers such as Tiffany and Coco Pari made homes there. The restaurants all seemed to be of high calibre and the once darkly lit bars have been replaced by sports venues and big screen TV’s. Even the once shadowy Downtown Cafe which was vibrant with jazz and creatives has exploded into a money making machine. It’s no wonder with it’s expansion and it’s high priced drinks and food, the musicians disappeared to be replaced by cover bands and karaoke, to cater to the rich.
It’s there I found out how the economy has hit home. Vacant stores, and low people counts- high rents and drop outs such as an Apple Store deal which went South. Everyone’s been affected- even the rich.
Still, I looked over the ice coated river from it’s second floor- a GORGEOUS place with a large stage, old brick walls, and a huge black bar and I realized how we measure ourselves in these small installments of time. We have memories which lock us into moments and revisiting old places with a bit of nostalgia, opens the floodgates to not just the past, but the present, and the future. Trips like this, in the cold, need to be taken. I’ve always been a strong believer the soul needs frigid temperatures and walks to find the true meaning of what we’re about- find warmth in the nurturing of good memories and the wealthy personalities of others.
I was searching for an old dark place, one I could find some old crusty man whose arms wore grooves into the edges of the bar- there were none. I searched for stories of literary ventures, comic relief, people who had a deeper philosophical presence- there were none. There were a few places I noted such as a second-hand clothing store called something like “What’s Old is What’s New Again”, a retailer called FUNK & Standard, and a store which peddles goods for impoverished countries and donate a portion of it’s sales to them (this included some African Thumb Pianos made out of old tin cans) In retrospect, every place will change, but how we look at it and it’s progression in our own lives is key.
It’s true I had only a small amount of time, but sometimes that’s enough. Enrichment is the body of the soul.
Good morning all. I was going to write about the mundane task of routines, but I found my wonderful book on obscure facts and decided to document the past rather than my own little place in the world. As much as we find daily things to talk about, we can never neglect the fact important things happen in history all the time through centuries of exploration and discovery. We sometimes neglect where it is we stand, where it is we’re going, and indeed, where it is we come from.
When you look at our advances in space exploration in only the past five decades, they’ve compounded many times over. From the first walk on the moon to a hotel in space (which is now being worked on), from satellite TV and the miraculous bounce of radio waves outside of gravity and back, to communication in the most remote parts of the world by telephone. Every year, it seems mankind moves at twice the speed. I say to myself why bother to keep up?
I do work on this wonderful Mac, which has opened up a new world for me. It’s an exploration of kinds not unlike the discovery of a new planet to a space explorer. Certainly, it’s not impacting for mankind, nor do I seek to compare between. I’m a simple poet, with a simple mind, quick in my own way, slow in many. I like to be outside, smell the frigid air, be by a fire when it’s cold and cook on the barbeque in the snow. I like to have ideas and be able to write about them, but for what it’s worth, I really enjoy history and how it shapes the future.
In 1642, Galileo Galilei died. He was an Italian astronomer who pioneered modern astronomy. He discovered the irregular shape of the moon, 4 satellites of Jupiter, the rings of Saturn, sunspots and the crescent shape of Venus. He was brought before the Inquisition in Rome twice and was forced to disavow the doctrine that the sun was the center of the solar system and not the earth. He was told never to teach again. If you can believe it, he died in obscurity.
Obscurity… is it not every great artist who disappears before they’re recognized? No, perhaps not, but some it seems don’t see the light of day because of their obsession to simply get through this life with their heads above water. Good ideas are exactly that, and some are long lasting. There are many common feelings we all relate to, common interests we all wonder about, but many of us don’t know what they are until they are confronted with the fact. How many people see a title and say- damn that sounds interesting. Can one indeed support enough people to find theories about life, enough to teach each other how to live it? What makes a best seller? I have no answers, just questions. An astounding amount of them, but why bother you ask? Perhaps I’d like to be a teacher- in my own way.
I’d like to recognize obscure faces; INCREDIBLE artists, teachers, philosophers and such. I once wrote a poem LONG ago- a romantic poem who I presented to a woman. Had it not been for that beautiful timeless face, and that recognition- I may not have continued to write; written it off to just a hobby. Sometimes it takes just a few words from people to influence your direction- whether it be an astronomer from 1642 or a person you bump into on the street, a friend. You never know where the inspiration will come from. They appear out of no where, sometimes they’ve been there all along; sometimes they go without a word.
Seeing the birth of Elvis Presley on this day in 1935 was the “beginning” of Rock & Roll. Perhaps today, another child will be born that will change the world and the way in which we see it. Observation is the key to discovery.