Monday, May 28, 2007


"Cars" brought to mind Lou Reed- and here's the scribbly:

Music and lyrics-- the lyrics to me are secondary- if the music sounds good- I feel the piece is successful- if the lyrics are good too- well that's icing on the cake. If the lyrics are not so good- well- oh well; I'll read a good book or a poem if I want good lyrics while listening to music. Where does Lou Reed fit in here?-- I've never really known much about Lou Reed- I know he's been around forever- he was in The Velvet Underground- I know he was friends with, and promoted by Warhol for a time- and I know I never really enjoyed what little I've heard musically from him. Too non-melodic for my taste- I guess his first concern is concept/conceptual art, and the lyrics, but I guess I need to listen to a lot more of him. So anyhow, when I got my Mac a few years back- the i-Tunes came packaged with some sample music; I really loved/love one of the songs called "Ecstasy", and was surprised that it was Lou Reed's. It has a great sound, great beats to go with great lyrics- reminds me a little of Leonard Cohen, and partly has a kinda soothing chant like feel. (Remembering now- first heard L.C. when I watched film McCabe & Mrs. Miller about 15yr.'s ago- you wanna get depressed-- watch it. The soundtrack is kinda dated (so what)- but beautiful- so's the film). I think my New Year's resolution was to not babble on and on here--- %$#@!- oh well. Guess babbling is easier to do, and fit in time wise.

"Ecstasy" Lou Reed

They call you ecstasy
Nothing ever sticks to you
Not velcro, not scotch tape
Not my arms dipped in glue
Not if I wrap myself in nylon
A piece of duct tape down my back
Love pierced the arrow with the twelve
And I cant get you back
Ah, ecstasy
Ah, ecstasy
Across the streets an old ford, they took off its wheels
The engine is gone
In its seat sits a box
With a note that says, goodbye charlie, thanks a lot
I see a child through a window with a bib
And I think of us and what we almost did
The hudson rocketing with light
The ships pass the statue of liberty at night
They call it ecstasy, ah
Ecstasy, ah
Some men call me st. ivory
Some call me st. maurice
Im smooth as alabaster
With white veins runnin through my cheeks
A big stud through my eyebrow
A scar on my arm that says, domain
I put it over the tattoo
That contained your name
They called you ecstasy, ecstasy
They call you ecstasy, ecstasy
The moon passing through a cloud
A body facing up is floating towards a crowd
And I think of a time and what I couldnt do
I couldnt hold you close, I couldnt, I couldnt become you
They call you ecstasy, I cant hold you down
I cant hold you up
I feel like that car that I saw today, no radio
No engine, no hood
Im going to the cafe, I hope they've got music
And I hope that they can play
But if we have to part
I'll have a new scar right over my heart
I'll call it ecstasy
Oh, ecstasy, ecstasy
Ecstasy, ecstasy

Not totally great- but with the music-

Saturday, May 19, 2007


An older random thought

No one is weird- just different.


Too much - not enough.
Deadline signs among many.
Random thoughts out loud.


Saturday, May 12, 2007

Digging for Citrus?

I saw "citrus",

and this

somehow floated up- I haven't seen it in years.
An ancient portrait, I think I'm the guy in the background.
Way back when?
I was in school- I think a Junior- I remember I needed to paint it quickly, I forget the motivation- I think for the hell of it.
I'm thinking now that nothing has really changed since then- except some things I wish had not- the inevitable.
Looking at it, I remember I used to buy this cheap fruit punch at the BigM- a run-down old grocery store, now long gone
like the fruit, though some peels, skins, and rinds may still exist petrified deep in some landfill.
The painting is kind of primitive, partly unintentionally. I never thought much of it, but it's grown on me I now see.

Now I've just remembered why I painted it; while in photography class, I painted it as part of an idea I had for a photograph. I wanted to photograph a still-life posed on a painting I created of a still-life specifically for the photo. I forget exactly what I was thinking. Anyway, I just went digging through book of old photos- and found one.

So now here's a photo of a photo of a still-life on a painting of a still-life- on a painting of a still-life. Later on- I'll take a photo of the photo of this all- ...and...until..., urrrr-- you still here?! Thanks.

Saturday, May 05, 2007


Hello Neighbors- a poem came to mind for this topic- here it is with neighboring sketch :

Robert Frost
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

Tuesday, May 01, 2007


I would trade some-
happily not all.

For some reason- the topic, "Remember," made me remember someone telling me long ago, "... indifference is the best revenge"- well I said/say- I don't want revenge- therefore I cannot be indifferent. There's a reason I remembered this- but I forget.