notes from the kelp

March 18, 2008

Island wannabe

…listen
…about the music

Waiting to find out.

And the little kelp clump is thinking, “someday I’ll grow up to be just like THAT!”

Reality is just perception. Keep the dream alive.

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Glenn Buttkus said,

March 18, 2008 @ 5:28 am

Love that photo, wonderful juxtaposition, giving us a peek at the way you perceive life, the way you “look” at things–what you see is colored by who you are. You often are self-depracating regarding your photography, but you do have a marvelous eye, which is essential for an artist. Add to that your musician’s ear, and that is quite a package.

Island Wannabe

And the little
kelp clump
is thinking,
“Someday
I’ll grow up
to be
just like
THAT!”

Reality
is just
perception.
Keep the dream
alive.

Alex Shapiro 2008

Many people believe that we as a species, as entities, co-created this “reality” that we perceive, that when we are told that mass is solid, we believe it as infants, and reinforce that perception. Yet on STAR TREK we watch as the molecules of our essence are seperated and sent beaming here and there, to comingle back into our bodies upon arrival. UFO abductees, many of them, refer to being picked up in a beam of light, and their bodies pass through the roof of their homes, that aliens have been seen passing through walls, that alien technology understands the physics of atoms, and can seperate them easily, and pass by them, or through them. H.G. Wells postulated that with the limited access we have to our actual intelligence, anything we can imagine can be possible, anything. Science and technology are testament to that postulate. A grain of sand on the beach beneath your feet one day was part of a mountain range, and one day might be again. We are just visitors, new arrivals on this plane of existence, and we have not begun to tap the wonders of it.

Your musical clip was a nice surprise, FoundOutHard @ 1:30, a nice change up from your marvelous instrumentals, again giving us a peek of the “pop music” you have also created side by side with your concertos and contatas and jazz and blues. Who is that singing? Great pipes on that gal. Are the lyrics yours, or did your collaborate with a lyricist? This one time you did not have the back story for the music. I chuckled as the title reminded me of the new comedy film, WALK HARD: The Dewey Cox Story.

Those lyrics are great–“Once you’ve been burned, trust is a dangerous game. How can you continue to walk in the flame?” and “The past is my grief, and it has managed to hitch a ride.” and “How can you know, how can you be sure, someone’s intentions are pure?” Good stuff.

Dukring the 60’s, Joni Mitchell was a Goddess to me. I listened to her tapes and albums incessently; she and Leonard Cohen. i appreciated their poetic lyrics too. I swear, before booze and cigarette turned Joni into a torch singer, she seemed to have a several octace singing range. She hit notes I had never heard before.

Glenn
Alex Shapiro said,

March 18, 2008 @ 8:51 am

Voice: guilty as charged.
Lyrics: mine.
All guitars, etc.: moi.
Heck, this is a lonely profession 🙂
Glad that the lyrics are even understandable– a fine transcription job you’ve managed there, word perfect. This was just a rough demo mix that was passable enough to slap up on the bloglet.
Happy Tuesday!
Doug Palmer said,

March 18, 2008 @ 10:55 am

Ah, yes myth, dream, imagination, music; these are the real things.
Fact, proof, truth, right, wrong, good, evil, these are the identifiers of psychopathy.

Life seems to be just one damn burn after another, don’t it ?
Trust is indeed a dangerous necessity.

I will now haul my ‘phones to the library and listen to the clip.
I have told you how much I enjoy your CD, haven’t I ?
I may not be as verbose as GB, but the sentiments are similar.
Alex Shapiro said,

March 18, 2008 @ 11:29 am

You are very funny, Doug. I admit: I am a psychopath lurking among you normal bloggers; delusional in her insistence on false realities and a beautiful world….. Maybe there’s a 12-step program for offenders like me. “Hello, I’m Alex.. [short, awkward pause] and I am a dreamer” [gazes downward, sullen and embarrassed, yet relieved to finally say these painful words aloud].

In dream or reality, I am deeply appreciative of your kind words about the disc. Thank you.
Glenn Buttkus said,

March 18, 2008 @ 1:30 pm

You know if it weren’t for dreamers, we would all still fear falling off the edge of the world, and we would not have much of a notion of the cosmos, and germs would still have their way with us, and music would be something made from rubbing our abdomen and banging two sticks together. You are both dreamers. Doug had a dream that he could design a build a car that could propell itself on and in water, and then over several years and a couple prototypes, he built it, and GOKWEiS was born. Without dreamers the earth would be as unfulfilling as flat beer, an unattractive as Tijuana at sunrise, and so dream on you two, and all of us like your.

Glenn 🙂
Glenn Buttkus said,

March 19, 2008 @ 7:51 am

Anxious for your next posting, as you labor on your compositions, I dug through your archive treasures, and found some “poetic” moments as you describe the art of procrastination at the apex of Summer Solstice.

The Shadow of My Smile

The extending shadows
across this soft field
by my house
tell the tale
of summer.

We have been
teased
by three beautiful
months,
tempting us away
from the things
we think
we should be doingâ€”
usually inside,
at a piano,
or a desk.

Long fingers
summon us, yes
pull us
away
and gleefully reorganize
our priorities;
blind to pressing
deadlines
and delivery dates.

Thank goodness
for this sultry reminder
each year
to justâ€¦
be.

The deer need
no reminding,
it seems.
Every evening
around this time,
almost twenty
or our hooved,
sweet-faced neighbors
spread out
across this expanse
for the
all-you-can-eat
buffet
of fresh grass
and flowers.

Yesterday
I laughed
at the sight
of a gaggle of geese squatting
squarely in the middle
of the herd.
A bald eagle
glided low
overhead,
and staring at
this bestial trio
I instantly knew
that there were
more important things
for me
to experience
at that moment
than whatever awaited me
at my studio.

Tomorrow
with its insistent deadlines
will arrive,
no matter what;
but these flashes
of life
have to be
absorbed
when theyâ€™re fresh
on the hoof,
on webbed feet,
and on the wing.

In turn,
the muses reward
with ideas
that spring
from a calm
and open
mind.

Alex Shapiro August 2007

Will I ever run out of poetic insight into your beautifully crafted prose? I doubt it.

Glenn 🙂
Glenn Buttkus said,

March 19, 2008 @ 8:25 am

Oh My God, again he dug, and again he found a treasure there in the bosom of your fragerant archives.

Elegy

As lovely
as this adorable fellow
appears,
he sits
in my palm,
floating
into whatever afterworld
little birds float to
upon hitting
a house window
at full throttle.

I heard
the telling soundâ€”
thwackud!
from upstairs
earlier in the morning.
I had hoped
that like many
of his luckier pals,
this guy merely
boomeranged
and landed
in a dazed state;
with little cartoon stars
swirling
around his head
for a while until
he snapped to
and was able
to fly away.

In the afternoon
I stepped outside
to refill
my tree feeders
for the open woodland aviary
I have quickly created;
juncos, chickadees, nuthatches, towhees,
sparrows, finches, woodpeckers
and others
are on the dole
from the benevolent
Shapiro government.
The percentage
of my publishing income
going toward
raw oiled sunflower seeds
is growing
at an alarming rate.

I looked down
at my feet
as I passed a window,
and there
on the deck
was this beautiful
kingletâ€”
motionless.

I had actually
never seen one
before.
I consulted
my trove of bird books
to identify
this creature
that was gifted
with such beautiful markings,
and was no larger
than a hummingbird.

I hope
the next one
I see
is flitting among
the seeds
in the yard,
and that the reflections
in my glass house,
from which
I can see his world,
never tempt him
to leave it
to visit mine.

Alex Shapiro September 2007

This bit of prose, this sharing brought a tear to my eye. The muses can be cruel in order to be kind.

🙂 Glenn
Doug Palmer said,

March 19, 2008 @ 11:15 am

Much as I hate to correct an artistic superior, Alex, we dreamers are the ,sane ones.

Those who think reality can be captured and quantified are the fools, living in a world that can be seen only in a microscope.
They walk, we fly.
They are blind, we see.
They are deaf, we hear.
But, mainly, we know better than to deny the infinite.

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March 18, 2008

Island wannabe

8 Comments »

Glenn Buttkus said,

Alex Shapiro said,

Doug Palmer said,

Alex Shapiro said,

Glenn Buttkus said,

Glenn Buttkus said,

Glenn Buttkus said,

Doug Palmer said,

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