The Sunday Morning Muse, August 11, 2013

I'm back!  It's taken a little longer than I had anticipated but I'm here.  I missed you all. Summer is flying by at an alarming rate.  It's already time for the Perseids meteor shower.  Now you can "listen" to the meteors, courtesy of Spaceweather radio. When you head outside to look for shooting stars, put your earbuds in and plug into into the internet and there you go. Personally I would prefer some kind of trippy music. The kind they play in places where you get massage or Reiki.  But it's a cool thing.

In other news, lately I've found myself returning again and again online to Andy Warhol's grave. Usually a graveyard livecam would be pretty dull. What could you see in a graveyard? But someone tied balloons to the grave for his birthday and they flutter around, so you are aware it is a live cam and not a still shot.  Also, I've seen people come to visit. They sometimes put things on the grave, or take pictures. One idiot was on a cell phone and mugging for the camera so I suspect he was more interested in having his friends "see" him at the grave on their computers than showing respect for Warhol.

Which brings me to my feelings on this whole thing. I feel sorry for the families of the other dead people around him. I wonder how they feel knowing that the eternal resting place of their loved one is monitored 24/7 on the internet? Also, how would Andy view this?  Is this parade of visitors better than no visitors at all? Does this all matter anyway because he is dead? Is it a tribute to his life or an invasion of his death?

You can turn up the volume and "listen" too. I hear birds mostly. And the muffled voices of the gawkers and picture takers and occasional car motor noises. Then the sounds of silence. Peace.

Random Things

I've been neglecting my blogging.If only I could harness this brain power... oh well.
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It's not like I don't do things. Today I watched a clip of Frank Zappa as a young man making experimental type music on a bicycle.  It was 1963 on the Steve Allen Show. You can find it yourself on YouTube if you are so inclined.
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I also watched a great piece on CBS's Sunday Morning about  Pink Martini. Well done.
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My interest in politics right now is at an all time low. I don't care which clown wins in New Hampshire. This day to day horse race of Republican politics is boring me to death.You never hear solutions to our problems other than cutting taxes for the rich.  Howzat working so far?  It has not. And the fact that Crazy Rick Santorum, who wants to bomb Iran, and ban birth control, is ahead in the polls, is just bizarro world.
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The St. Ronnie thing is wearing thin, too. Reagan raised taxes 12 times in 8 years. Makes no sense to me. Seems like they are creating a myth of what they want people to think Reagan was, as opposed to the facts. The Eric Cantor interview on 60 Minutes generated some buzz over that. Also, with regard to war, I agree with those who say that our military can go a long way to preventing bad things from happening but they can't necessarily make good things happen. At some point people who live in a country have to figure it out for themselves. President Bush campaigned on the theme that he was not going to use the military for "nation building."  Yet that is exactly how this whole mess has ended up.
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Even so, I'm optimistic. The auto industry still exists, the stock market has been up over 12000 for a bit now, a few manufacturing jobs here and there, and some sort of recovery is coming along. I want to see things get better for people.

Saturday Stream of Consciousness

The scene at some Walmarts on Black Friday, the uprising of the people in streets in Egypt. The drought in Texas, the icecaps melting. What is going on today? In the world. If some intergalatic consciousness peered in on us, what would it see? Spinning the globe around and around like playing with Google Earth and zooming in, at any given moment on any given thing? What is new in the world? What has remained for centuries (pyramids)?

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Who is eating leftovers? (me) Who is walking the long ago paths of the maids in Druid Hills, Georgia, taking lovely photographs and pondering on the words of Mary's Magnificat? (Suki)

Words that have endured and been translated in many languages.

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Who is fighting for freedom? Who is just trying to get through another day, and not paying attention to the struggles going on?

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I watched an old Leonard Cohen interview this week. He was asked about his poetry. "As the world becomes more baffling and bewildering, one is thrown back on one's own shabby little story."He explained that is what produces his work."If one or two poems remain out of a man's work... he is considered a major poet.....generally nothing remains of our work."

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Who we are, with the transience of our lives...why do anything? Why build a pyramid at all? Asked Alan Parsons. And it remains. Poetry, art, music, architecture, literature... all not necessary for existence, yet here we are, for our own reasons, trying to explain, trying to be understood, attempting to build something that will last. Leave something behind.

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And what we really have, all that we can actually say with certainty, is that one day we won't be here. So we may as well make the best of it.

Here's that Rainy Day

As much as I love the sun, I love that occasional rainy,even dreary, day. I've got the blinds wide open to try to bring in any bit of daylight into this room and the sky looks like a muddy canvas. I remember in art class one day when the Prof. described my canvas in just the same way. Muddy. It stuck with me.
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It was an oil painting, and I was painting "sky." But it wasn't a sunny day.I looked at the sky and it had so many shades of color in it, but you couldn't call it blue...I starting mixing black with it to get a dark gray....then more white here and there. The sky looked muddy. It was awful. I needed a good lesson in "painting with a broad brush." Just go with it. Don't fuss over every nuance. Pick a color and go with it...look for lights and darks...squint if you have to in order to see it....but don't fuss.
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Rainy days are good days for old movies. Good days to clean the basement.Bake cinnamon rolls. Put on a good beef stew. Stuff you don't have time for when the sun is shining in early September.
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Enjoy the rainy day. And remember....don't fuss.

The Sunday Morning Muse, June 5, 2011

I discovered what the "liquid" option does in PhotoShop. It's like playing with oil paint, but having someone else do the hard part...like painting the whole picture...and you getting to fiddle with the details or change it wildly and become your own Dali or Warhol.-

You have to click on the painting to appreciate the painterly-ness of it. I took the photo yesterday paying special attention to light...and then liquified it and was able to use a "brush" and paint it up a

bit.

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I really had fun messing with a pile of rocks:

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I put faces, bats, cats, witches, all kinds of stuff in there...and moved the

colors around to take away the hardness of the rocks. Make them malleable. The result doesn't even matter. I had fun with it.

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Here's another iris photo I messed with....

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Let's Just Pretend We Like Winter White

Maybe I need a new look for work. Something whimsical.

Let X = X

This video of Laurie Anderson's song is well done.Someone put a great deal of thought and talent into making it. It suits the song, and it is just trippy enough to be compelling to watch. Especially full screen while in the dark. Laurie Anderson's music takes me back to college when I was taking a painting class, and the professor would play an eclectic mix of music while we painted.

Can We Really Rid Ourselves of Attachments?

You are what you have chosen today, not what you have chosen before. Wayne Dyer introduced me to this concept years ago, and I still come back to it. I struggle sometimes with letting go of who I was before, to become what I am meant to be. It's all about letting go of attachments, some say. I would agree with that. Attachments have a way of dragging you down, holding you back. It was true when I learned to paint, it was true when I played music, and it was especially true whenever I've made attempts to write.

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My Painting teacher made me get beyond pretty little Amish paintings and experience the freedom of abstract expression. The only painting he ever really liked enough of mine to keep was a painting of garbage that was lying on the floor, painted with house paint on cardboard, in Green, Orange and Black. (He made me wipe down the Amish painting.) You'd have to see both to really understand. Trust me. The Amish painting was BAD.

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In music, it was getting beyond three chords and a rhyme, and going for something that mattered to me, instead of trying to please someone else. There was a breakthrough when I went beyond my comfort zone and picked music that just felt right for me, not because I felt I could sing it JUST LIKE THE RECORD. I recorded some nice stuff, I think, and I stretched myself when I did it, to make the song my own.

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Writing is the ongoing thing. I'm still learning. But I know for sure I can rely on advice Stephen

King gave in his book "On Writing." It's hard to kill your babies. When you write something you certainly have an attachment to it...and it is HARD to delete pages, paragraphs, sentences....You have to just walk away from it and pick it up three months from now, and then, only then do you see the blemishes, the problems, the STUFF THAT NEEDS TAKEN OUT. And then you re-write.

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It occurs to me that I am the sum of my experiences and to a degree a product of the people around me. Perhaps, a re-invention of self is simply a reshuffling of aspects of that. Yes, I like that. It's not like getting rid of your "old"self at all. Just different choices. Different intent.
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Getting rid of attachments seems harsh, but acknowledging them as attachments, and letting them go back into the deck for a reshuffle sounds nicer. Or am I really trying to justify my attachment to attachments? Hmmm.

Saved from Junk Day

Junk Day 2008 came and went. The piles seemed even higher this year than last, as junk sprouted from almost every curb.

Of course there are pigs who put out more than a fair share. I tried not to let it dampen my mood as I drove about taking some pictures of junk, and taking in the scene. It was heartening to see the neighbor kids throwing out horrible big plastic things that kids play with and grow out of. I hate that stuff.

My album collection survived intact, though I almost threw out Mitch Miller and Gene Autry, then brought them back. I think they will go the Salvation Army.

One bright spot is an unexpected gift from the collective universe I received when I was pulling apart an old frame to pitch. Underneath an unwanted picture of my alma mater someone bought me at a thrift store years ago.... was the above poster by Eve of two of her Big Eyed girls with their record player! The edges were a little warn but overall the poster is in good shape and I intend to reframe it. I used to collect Maio Girl portraits (also big eyed) and posters. I have a few framed ones up in the house. The Maio Girl on the right hangs here in my computer room. I think they are cool.

Art for Art's Sake

I'm still musing about art this week. I'm not really great at anything, but I'm mediocre at a lot of different things when it comes to art, and find that even at my humble skill level I get enjoyment out of it.

I love all kinds of art-- paintings, drawings, sculptures, collages, even 'installation" art. When I find something that really speaks to me, I try to figure out why. You don't always get an answer. Sometimes the art remains in your head, and maybe that is all there is to it. Your own personal reaction to something is the actual "art." More-so than whatever it is you happen to be viewing.

Where am I going with this?

I can remember at college, there was a giant brillo pad hanging from the third floor open space down an open stair well to the first floor of the library. People made fun of it all the time, calling it "metal pubic hair" and even worse names. I think Giant Brillo Pad was an entry in a contest someone started to further call attention to this unfortunate piece of work. Others abused it by trying to bounce super-balls into it because they would stick inside of the thing. What joy this brought, I really can't say, but.... the thing certainly caused a strong reaction from people.

I just did a search to see if I could find it. No luck. You'll just have to picture this one for yourself.

(With or without the superballs inside.)