happy birthday momet 09/27/05
when we first met, we were both in 'serious' relationships. all we knew of eachother for a few years was eachothers musical taste and style over at the open mic. there was an attraction but it never went beyond the occasional glance and very few words. when you kept in touch via emails, they were never personal, always some petition or radical left wing article to read, not radical to me, just coming from a humanist pov. when you showed up at my birthday party last year, both of us single, we didn't know that we were going to conceive a child in less than a month. when you came over to watch a movie, nothing happened. a week or two later, a bottle of francis ford coppola wine to send you off to school in santa cruz was a nice warm way to say goodbye for then. when you told me at christmas there was going to be a baby, and that you trusted me to be the father, you lifted my heart out of a lot of sadness i'd been feeling. getting to know you, as your body held our child over the next eight months, we had our ups and downs. we made eachother laugh, we made echother angry and we made eachother cry. but we made the most beautiful, open commitment to love the child, to raise him and to take care of him, no matter what our relationship. when people asked if wanted a boy or a girl, you said we were hoping for a hermaphrodite. when people asked if we were going to get married, you said you only believed in marriage for gay people, making me laugh again. in the letter you wrote when we had one of the few arguments we've had, when we both got jealous that time, you said you could handle being a mother but not being a girlfriend, not now. you gave me - and the world - the most incredible gift, a beautiful life, our boy sage, with no strings attached and always with a gentle, easy going, light hearted philosophy. your wisdom reveals an old soul. you are proving to be one of the best mothers i've ever seen. i know how in love you are with the baby and you know how in love i am with him, too. it's clear that you take to the task with a natural grace and with intelligence. you are incredibly well-educated on the subject of motherhood and new life. now those two people who were in the serious relationships with us are sage's godparents - and we even have two others of our best friends as his goddess parents!! we are breaking old molds for roles and reinventing parenting as we go. we may really be starting something. i love this adventure we're on and i love you for allowing your instincts to let it happen.
how fun this is turning out to be!
with trust and with faith and with love.
p.s. thanks for understanding that last night, all i could write about was bob dylan. it makes it so much easier that you 'dig' him, too (as in 'really get.') some people wouldn't understand him - or me, for that matter - if mister rogers was doing the explaining. i can't wait until the day when sage can say "mommy is a philosophy professor!!" how cool is that!
TONIGHT AND LAST NIGHT WERE TRULY INSPIRING, HUMBLING:
"I'D LOVE TO DANCE WITH YOU, MARIA, BUT RIGHT NOW MY HANDS ARE ON FIRE"
just over ten years ago i quit doing music. i had nothing left to say and there was no one listening anyway. i decided i'd try my hand at some other artforms. i wrote a couple of screenplays with my then girlfriend. she was an author with several books published and we sat down at the computer, taking turns writing, until one, then two scripts were done. we took meetings with some fancy agents at the big agency in beverly hills, the one with a giant lichtenstein in the lobby. we had dinner with the producers of one of our favorite films. we met the biggest producer in the world and took his lackeys on a tour of our hollywood , and i compiled the soundtrack for the drive.
when nothing more happened, she went to work on her next book and i started my thesis. i was a high school drop out and the only thing i had ever really produced were some articles for the school paper - one i remember was called 'how does it feel?' about a concert i'd gone to - but i had had enough education in other kinds of school to begin the play i wanted to write. i was partly inspired by a play about huey newton my friend mark anthony thompson had done the sound for, over at actor's gang. i called mine "a complete unknown," from a line in a song by the subject of my play. i spent many hours researching bob dylan, in the new york public library, at the apartment of mitch blank, greenwich village's "foremost authority" and collector on my subject, at home in the magazines, books and recordings i'd collected over the years, in the hollywood public library, as well. there was no google and there was no such thing as researching "on line," as far as i knew. in the end, i had a play that was made up entirely of direct quotations, from press conferences, interviews, poetry and other writings of bob dylan. it also contained quotations from dylan's mother, woody guthrie and more than either of them, from allen ginsberg.
i say "thesis" because it was a well-researched, scholarly, for me, exercise in learning about someone who, in the end, remained to me, like the night sky or the seven seas, a complete unknown.
a few half-hearted attempts to get it on a stage and a year later, the play went into a drawer and remained there. i wrote a few songs and then a few more. some with johnny vargas, some with joe garcia. later, some with tony mason. some at elia arce's behest. she insisted that i turn a dream i had about john lennon into a song. i did. we performed it one night, after doing the "two virgins" cover as a "live" theatrical piece. others followed, from her inspiration. fred recorded them at rancho de la luna. they all stayed on tapes until one day elia insisted that i put them out somehow. i made something called 'paintbox,' with a decades worth of music spread out over five cd's. i xeroxed and stapled together a hand-typed lyric booklet and gave away a dozen or so to friends and family and sold a few more, one to someone in japan and one to someone in australia. the dylan play stayed in the drawer and only recently moved to a box and then a copy got over to monet's for her to read. most recently, the local playhouse showed no interest and i didn't pursue it again. i have never been out to convince anyone of the worth of my work. still not.
what happened, though, is i got an education i never knew i was getting. i had a dylan quote for nearly any occasion. "there are enough songs. there are enough songs for every man, woman and child on earth to have one and never repeat. in fact, there are too many songs...unless someone comes along with a pure heart and something to say, then that's a different story." that's one i always liked a lot. i agree. too many songs that mean nothing. plenty of "how much is that doggie in the window" and it's modern equivalent. i hear one every day, if i'm not careful.
tonight and last night, pbs showed martin scorsese's film, "no direction home," the title taken from the same song as "a complete unknown," and just as accurate. for me, it was like the final exam of the course i began studying at that concert in high school, earlier, the first time i heard our neghbor kip malloy tell my sister debra, who was taking guitar lessons from him, that dylan never cut his fingernails, when i was about five years old. or the first time i saw the reel-to-reel tape box with dylan in his triumph motorcycle t-shirt, covered by a psychedelic purple shirt, with a woman's hair-do, and maybe a little bit of rouge on his cheeks, staring out at me over at the home of don and glenna, my friend jay sherman's parents. or staying in the theatre, at age 13, through a hurricane warning in fort lauderdale, to see "the concert for bangla desh" three , maybe four times before going home to listen to all four sides of his greatest hits, volume two, especially loving "tomorrow is a long time" and "down in the flood" and, of course, the song with my name in it, "the mighty quinn." or maybe a few months later, back in laurel canyon, with bruce kaye giving me an album with a blank white cover, stamped "great white wonder," with strange, ancient recordings of pieces like "hezekiah jones" and "if i had wings" - but no titles, so i had to try to figure them out for myself. or maybe it was a couple of years later, sending in my postcard for the lottery to catch his first tour in eight years and winning the chance to buy two tickets. then, after writing my first of two articles in the school paper and my mom just happening to meet david geffen at a party over at cher's house - and that's a different story - with a copy of my article in her purse, getting tickets for a second night to see him, with the band, at the forum. tripping one night and just getting stoned the next.
tonight, i wept while watching scorsese's film. not openly and loudly, but quietly and constantly. tears just kept streaming down my face. i couldn't help it. later, charlie rose, obviously moved, as well, by what he'd seen , asked martin scorsese to sum up dylan's cultural impact. neither of these men of words and thought could do it.
i told monet what i thought, whether she asked or not. without the explosion bob dylan helped spark, there would be no scorsese. there would be no counter-culture, just the old one that was already dead. the truth would not be the mandate for all artists. not that it's what people demand from artists but the bar has been set and it demands the truth, even if the populace rejects it over and over again. popular art would have remained entirely about money as the bottom line. i know that the culture has slipped backwards many times since he set the standard forty-some-odd years ago, but it can never go all the way back. the light, once turned on, can be turned off, but what was seen in that flash remains forever burned in our eyes.
last week i was depressed at not being nominated for an award at some silly ceremony in the low desert, being held tonight. i wanted to be recognized as the best songwriter in these parts and i wasn't even on the ballot, save for as a dj. i knew the truth so i eventually got over it. i thought of patti smith, one time when i saw her reading poetry on the night of an mtv awards show. she was suprised at the attendance, saying she thought everyone would be home watching the awards show. when the audience laughed, she said she thought there was something terrible about young people giving eachother awards. that is because she, like bob dylan, is an artist, not driven by the marketplace.
i thought for a second tonight, any songwriter who is down there collecting some award instead of watching this show about bob dylan is probably not a real songwriter anyway.
hey, i just got this email when i got home tonight from watching the dylan film with monet - on her 27th birthday it's what she wanted to do(!) - from a guy i met a few weeks ago, who i let 'rip' a copy of 'help wanted':
I've listened to the first eight songs so far, and WOW this is really
good! I normally don't like much music. There is something really
special here. I LIKE THIS! It's honest, it's raw, your voice is great,
and it really captures something about AmericaŚlike a true American
Thanks for sharing it with me! Will you be playing at the benefit
concert you're putting on?
well. justin, i don't normally like much music either. unless it's from a pure heart and has something to say. then, that's a different story. i am inspired and humbled by bob dylan, a true american poet. anything i do is always going to be in his shadow, or perhaps, on his shoulders.
i left the dylan film dying to perform again. i feel like i learned a lot from watching him tonight. as he said to maria muldaur, later that night the crowd at newport booed him for going electric, when she asked him to dance, "my hands are on fire."
TO MY LOVELY FAMILY & FRIENDS IN L.A. THIS WAS A QUICKIE , PURELY SPONTANEOUS TRIP, NOT EVEN A VISIT, MORE LIKE A MISSION , SO FORGIVE ME NOT CALLING, BUT THIS IS HOW IT WENT ON SATURDAY:
lying in bed with sage on my chest this morning, it occurred to me, I NEED TO BE IN L.A. THIS MORNING FOR THE PEACE MARCH WITH THE FREE PRESS...so, after returning sage to his momma's breast, i called art, then karen...
she was at the produce market and said 'yeah!' so, karen & i left the beatnik at noon. got to the march just as the rally was getting underway. armed with bundles totalling several hundred copies of the freep.
although kpfk made it sound like it would be very difficult to find, we found a parking spot for a mere five bucks, a block from the corner of los angeles and
temple, the site of the federal building. a nice man named jamal (like my handsome nephew, only i think this man was actually named jamal at birth...) saw us with arms full and helped us carry the stacks. soon karen and i split apart.
karen gave a copy to every person in line for the portapotties. one woman in line identified herself as anna kunkin, art's daughter!
jamal helped me get to the stage , where i saw our friend sue welsh. she's excited about the new orleans project and wants to read some tennessee williams at noah's little theatre. she said we could talk early next week about an interview on kpfk. i followed her into the 'backstage' area and proceeded to get a copy to every person backstage, including the beautiul ron kovic. (unfortunately, we missed 'president' martin sheen, by that much!) i wrote art's phone number on a freep and
asked ron to call. he said, "how did i do up there?" "you were beautiful. we love you, ron." he was, as always, inspiring and passionate.
i walked in front of the stage and passed copies to every eager person watching the speakers. other people backstage included members of the press, lots of
photographers and a young girl who said she was a journalism major. i told her to write something for the paper about today and send it to us. i also told
the photographers i met to send us photos. everyone reacted enthusiastically. one photographer named jeferson pplegate got a great shot of ron kovic with
the free press and wil email it to us. i met a couple of little kids who are doing something called paul robeson radio, some teenagers involved in hip-hop for
palestine and someone named faith who works with a women's group called gabriela.
when i bumped back into karen, she had gotten through her share of the papers. we both noticed that only a very few out of hundreds of people we approached
refused the paper. a large percentage got all lit up and said "the free press, i haven't seen that for a while", "it's great to have this paper back," "we need
this," etc. many, many of them specifically asked if art kunkin was the editor!!
i spoke with people from answer coalition l.a. about doing a story on the state of the peace movement. everyone was very agreeable. anna kunkin said she has
ron kovics phone number. some people said they were happy to see the positive, non-rhetorical tone of the new freep.
i bumped into a woman named daisy who asked about my tibetan shirt. we spoke for a few minutes before the conversation went to houston. the woman she was with
is a performance artist, maria elena fernandez, who just performed there and knows elia!!
sue welsh told karen and i we could drop off papers at kpfk, so we headed to studio city. we stopped along the way at my favorite old haunt, joseph's cafe in hollywood (the third oldest resturant in hollywood, after musso & franks and micelli's) where my friend robert,the owner, who used to run food to my house on beachwood in the eighties, was very happy to see the free press, is happy to have it at his restaurant
(ivar and selma, across from capitol records) and will probably advertise. he said he'll do anything to help us!
after some great greek food, karen and i went to kpfk. we left a stack of papers for sue welsh and stuffed one into every mailbox.
seven hours after leaving joshua tree, we were heading back home. caught arjuna at water canyon and karen let me off at my car at the beatnik by around nine-thirty.
it's been a heart day's night...
a nice sneak preview of things to come on friday. (i invited some extra silly looking cool people from the march to meet us at the green spacecraft!!!)
love n fishes, ted
VISITED BY FRED
friday night i attended a concert in section 6, a parcel of land six square miles in size, formerly part of joshua tree national monumnet and later given to the county of san bernardino. the concert, celestial rhythms, is the brainchild of joshua tree musical boy wonder and charismatic desert music foundation chief, jarrod radnich. the setting, with it's natural beauty, chosen to prove to the county that it should be let alone, protected and NOT developed, was perfect, well before the generators and stage lights, p.a. system and folding chairs were brought in, or the $40 per person audience members were shuttled in from a parking lot near the main highway.
opening the evening was arjuna, the harmonic singer, with clive wright playing ambient, e-bowed electric guitar and marti walker, playing flute. ther music was suited beautifully to the environment, although i would have preferred to see less in the way of electric cords, speakers and the aforementioned lights, which reminded me of a 'fancy' hotel, where trees or rocks are lit 'dramatically.' (when is a full moon majestically climbing over a jagged horizon not enough in the way of dramatic lighting? i think that i shall never see...)
next, botanist robin kobaly of the summertree institute spoke movingly of the need for water conservation, respect for indigenous plants and the repetitive cycle of droughts in california. her explanation of the aromatic, lacquered leaves of the ancient cresote was as inspired as haiku poetry. her explanation of the yin and yang of the cat's claw - the cure for it's sting is in it's powdered leaves - was helpful (native people used the powder to soothe rashes on baby's bottoms long before anyone thought of using talcum powder.) another speaker from the national park followed, then a representative from yamaha, one of the event's sponsors. he talked about the proven healing nature of music, as a stress-reducer, and implored people to go out and buy musical instruments. it felt a little corporate - and it was, after all, a corporate sponsor - but, not too bad. next, a percussionist named paulo mattioli facilitated a drum circle geared towards those unacquainted with rhythm and drum circles. the children in attendance, especially, may have been won over by his animated style and personality. our friend sara munroe did a fire dance with a blazing hoop. i don't know how anybody does that. it takes incredible focus and her smile never stops beaming, as bright as the fire swirling around her, making it all seem so effortless.
i played some drums. i was thinking, as i do whenever in the park or when pounding on a drum, of my old best friend fred drake. i remember him playing his hand drum, in new york's central park at a rainbow picnic, blazing, at anti-war protests in front of both federal buildings in l.a., raging, or in front of the chinese consulate after tiananmen square, solemnly, in his living room in hollywood or later, at the rancho, for girls who were dancing, at matthew patrick's land, near where i was this night, and especially up in the park, on various summer nights, elia's birthday celebrations among them.
on my ring finger i was wearing a silver one of fred's, with an onyx stone set in its center. i used the ring to tap the side of the drum as my other hand struck the head.
the next morning, as i slid the ring back on my finger, i noticed the stone was missing. i went to visit sage as planned and decided on my way home to go back to the spot in section 6 where i had been, to see if i could find the stone. there were two very nice women there straightening chairs, picking up a bit of trash, putting found things that were left behind in a safe place.
i told them i had lost the stone in my ring and they started to help me look for it. when asked what type of stone i was looking for, i told them. one of the women told me that in certain native traditions, onyx is a stone for grieving - and that a person will carry an onyx stone until he is finished with his mourning a lost loved one, then return it to the earth in a place sacred to him and the person who has departed.
i hadn't told her anything about fred but her story made me realize i could stop looking for the 'lost' stone. i had just returned it to a sacred place and could stop mourning fred now.
just then, i saw something in the sand where i had been playing the drum the night before. it was a piece of plastic, maybe a 16th of an inch thick and a half inch in diameter, with a black letter 'F' against an orange background. i said 'hi fred.'
i knew from our many conversations, particularly when we first bonded in 1981 around the death of john lennon, who had told his son sean to look for a feather blowing by as a sign that he was alright, that this was a sign from fred.
i whittled down the piece of plastic so that it fit perfectly into the space left empty by the onyx. i felt that i was finished mourning, now that sage is here. i thought of the song gifted to me in my sleep on the morning of what would have been fred's birthday, six months after he died, "orange sunshine," which i fleshed out after i woke up and drove into the park. "i said i'd always be here, today i feel you near, you said 'teddy, i'll always be there with you.'"
when i told robbi and kripa this story and showed them the ring, kripa noticed that the "F' was the scandinavian rune symbol, "fehu." the one for 'nourishment.'
today, monet, negra and i took sage on his first little hike, through the wash near monet's house.
who: me and sam and tony if he wants to
when: saturday sept 17 8pm or so
why: because we like to play
i'm playing with my friend sam on hand drums tomorrow night at the beatnik, saturday september 17, around 8-ish until whenever. i'll have my briefcase o' songs and who knows what we'll do. i've been thinking alot about 'west side story,' new orleans, the war, the baby boy, my beautiful new band, the tree. (robbi & kripa are performing a wedding, not performing AT a wedding, they are actually officiating tomorrow so they can't make it out, but we will all be there - with tony mason, too - at the wild west coyote fest on october 8th around 5pm or so...)
last night i got to do a rap* i wrote after john lennon died as part of a shari elf/fairy elf cover of 'imagine.' (she and her band were grrrreat!!) i got to do 'apocalypse no' (fred burke's new favrite 'cause it's so timely now it seems) with my soul sistah robyn on drums!!! then, to end the evening at pappy's, i got to indulge my bowie/ziggy fantasy and sing half a dozen or so of his greatest hits, from 'space oddity' to 'life on mars' and even robyn's favorite and mine, especially since becoming a dad, 'oh you pretty things!' i can't remember ever having as much fun singing, except for last week at pappy's when we did the cracker camper show to a packed house.
* "i had a dream i was in a museum
full of all the weapons of death and deception
there to remind us of what's behind us
there to warn us there'll be no one to mourn us
i couldn't believe what i was seeing
had ever been used against human beings
see the answer is simple you just got to begin it
the sky's the summit there is no limit
imagine that if you can dream it
then you can achieve it so you better believe it..."
sage turned seven weeks today.
he is round and smiling and ever curious.
an all american alien angel buddha boy.
"the most beautiful sound i ever heard..."
the sound of music that first caught my ear, was the music of leonard bernstein in "west side story." the film, by director robert wise, was my first image of new york city, as well as my first sight of maria, played by natalie wood. that film taught me things that still resonate in my heart, about love, about race , about violence, about police oppression, about dancing in the streets. his other films included "the sound of music" and he had started his career as editor of "citizen kane," where his rhythmic style is evident. the earliest memories i have are cinematic, before the jfk funeral or the beatles debut on tv, there was the giant screen, and on that screen was "west side story." i quote the song "maria" in my own opening song, "la porte, indiana," - coincidentally, wise was born in indiana, too - because that song, along with "(i like to live in) america," "gee, officer krupke," "cool," "one hand, one heart" and, especially, "somewhere (there's a place for us)" was the earliest influence on me. a film maker is not always recognized as a visionary artist because it is such a collaborative art, but, under the direction of robert wise, we watched the choreography of jerome robbins from the point of view of a helicopter, or one of the skyscrapers, looking down on the jets and sharks, symbolically and literally diminished by the scope of the city around them. wise fought to shoot the film on location on the streets of new york and he hired gang members for security. before my third birthday, that film must have been the first to make me cry and still has that power. it taught me a certain sentimentality and street-smarts, all at the same time, all in some darkened movie theatre.
september 10, 1914 - september 14, 2005
tonight i hosted the open mic - arjuna had to cancel - for the first time in a couple of years. i sang the following songs: "wild west ballet," "original star," "you never stray from your path," "a boat to row," "warrior," "i dream of sleeping (peacefully)," "love on," "rain of love," "talk to her," "i keep missing you," "fugitive of love," "you sleep so deeply," "if u do" & "crow."
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ELIA ARCE
i first met elia in 1994 at rancho de la luna in joshua tree. she was preparing to move back to costa rica but first drove out to the desert with her friend mona lia ventress, and stopped to see fred drake. i was living with francesca lia block in the house two doors away, where hutch lives now. elia and francesca knew eachother through their mutal friends, the bergs, benjamin and hazel. ben had been the patron for francesca's father, irving, a painter, and also for elia, after he met her in el salvador while making a film with haskell wexler.
francesca and i were moving back to l.a., where we lived together for a few more months before splitting up. after we did, i went back to the desert. a few things had changed. fred now had a studio in his house, with dave catching, daniel lanois had come and gone with his, and i had a new batch of songs fred said he would record. one beautiful day in may of 1995, elia was there doing some recording for adriene jenik's 'mauve desert' cd-rom adaptation and i was there to do some songs with fred. chris goss sat on the edge of the hot-tub and played an acoustic guitar.
i sat in the redwood tub listening to elia's voice, speaking spanish, through some drive-in movie speakers fred had placed there, outside. i didn't know what she was saying but i knew that i wanted to hear her voice again. adriene and elia invited fred and i over for dinner at hobe chobe and we went out there. elia and i went outside and it rained for just a minute. i think that was when i fell in love.
the next day i think i drove back to hobe chobe but didn't find elia or adriene so i left a small note. i had to return to l.a. for work that night and when i got home i called fred at the rancho. i had left my paintbox, an old tin chocolate box, at the rancho. adriene, who lived in silverlake, i think, offered to drive it over to me in echo park the next day. but i asked elia if she would take it home with her, to venice, a longer drive from my apartment. i just wanted an excuse to see her. fred helped orchestrate that too, i think.
i went over to her house on a tuesday night and she made some fish. maybe it was wrapped in palm leaves. we found eachothers hands and then our souls. then, i stayed until saturday and we stayed together, more or less, for the next eight years.
we lost so many of our closest friends and allies, fred, ben and hazel, most importantly, but many more, mario, gothic, q-ball, sabu. we helped eachother get through all those hard times and we made a lot of art and music from our experiences. each of us learned a lot, but i probably benefited most from the time.
when we decided to go our separate ways a year ago, i knew that our paths would always be parallel. now, she is doing what she had said she wanted to do, she's gone back to school to get her masters - in art - and living in houston, a place where she performed a lot , made lots of very good friends and has a support system, a place i visted her and we had some very intense moments of our relationship. i knew i didn't want to be there in texas, i wanted to be here in joshua tree. i thought, for fred, then for the studio he tried to leave me, but as it turns out, for the child the universe would gift me with.
i learned to be a better artist, a better performer, a better writer and a better person because i spent those years with elia. if i am any good at any of those things, i feel it has an immeasurable amount to do with her. one day, she may have a trailer on my land here in the desert ...or i may have one on hers in costa rica. sort of like sabu and linda. one of the last things she said when we were sure we were really separating was, "you can always bring your kids to live in costa rica," and i thought, "i'll never have kids." now, monet - and the universe - has changed that to a reality and beautiful sage is now elia's godchild.
some of my other favorite things i remember elia saying are: "when you're poor, it rains!," "i hate racism, especially my own," "don't let anyone, not even me, stand in your way," and especially, "say 'yes' to everything." that is the greatest lesson she taught me. she taught me how to say yes, how to be positive and how to not let anything stand in my way. not because she has superhuman strength, or that she has an inflated sense of herself. she taught me how to do that, despite being basically shy and a little bit scared.
our lives have changed drastically since a year ago. nothing that is happening now i would have predicted then. but some things remain constant. and it is those deeper, longer-term realities that i appreciate right now. she always says the most important part of our work is the process , and in this spirit, i take one small step , and then the next, always with my true friend, elia, inside my heart and somewhere, at my side.
DEAR ELIA. MAY YOUR CREATIVITY THRIVE IN EXCITING NEW WAYS IN YOUR NEW NOMADHOME. MAY YOU ALWAYS FEEL THE LOVE INSIDE YOU. MAY YOU ALWAYS HAVE THAT WONDERFUL SMILE TO HELP LIGHT UP THIS WORLD. ALL LOVE ALWAYS, TEDDY
pretty grandmothers: inger & phyllis with sage
we had a great time at pappy & harriets as part of the cracker van camp-out:
here i am with my biggest fan!!!
and here i am under the steady, watchful eye of my friend and longtime playmate tony mason:
we've been doing this for 10 years !!!
robbi robb is my own personal guitar god and the tree is our faith-based organization
BABY PICTURES FROM THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE
happy boddhisatva day!!
sage, momet & i visited the wat santi thai forest buddhist temple in landers.
we enjoyed the feast and chanting and were preparing to leave when the offer was made by the monks - in particular, the elder, phra don - to bless sage by splashing him with holy water...
SAGE SEES GOD me & the tree play pappy & harriets
thursday sept 8 all night long
it felt like i had a visiting deity in my presence today. like a prince of peace. i'm not overstating it. he just fills this place like the finest incense or pink glowing light.
aaaah. my first five hours alone with him was heaven on earth.
i was rehearsing with the tree last night or i would never have missed stephanie's debut, or fairy elf hers elf, hoisting with the moistness.
last saturday, shari elf, jane & bill honky tonk train & i took a big stack of our favorite local cd's to the local show at our local radio station. z107 has em now let's see if they play em.
we came up with an idea for a film in our silliness: a hard days help!! with scenes re-enacted by us, the train museum standing in for the beatles train scene, for example. with our songs of course, but with dialogue spoken with english accents.
"bingo? where's bingo", they shout down the street, chased by bobbies (furst , perhaps?)
i was accused of making an anti-government rant the other day, when actually i was ranting at the lack of government. isnt it the rightists always complaining that we have too much government and that we spend too much on the poor and 'colored' (other than white)? well, they got their wish in new orleans. the result of all their love of reduced govt was on full display. i like government: things like fire and rescue, disaster assistance, feeding hungry people. anti-govt? it aint me, babe!
oh, maybe you had me mistaken for some kind of elitist in the entertainment business who drives a fancy car? hey, how come the artists are always the ones who have to do stuff this so-called big government collects so much in taxes to do?? like throw benefits...oh well. we're just a bunch of bleeding hearts. good thing the ones who hate the artists and musicians can do so much of a better job taking care of the citizenry, eh?
so much for homeland security, these people just failed their biggest test.
when to work? when to play? i could play all the time but when would the work get done?? so i work all the time, for very little pay, but i like the work, so it's ok.
THE GOOD NEWS: SAGE IS PUTTING ON ABOUT A POUND A WEEK AND HAS GROWN TWO INCHES SINCE HE WAS BORN!!!
OTHER NEWS: ME & THE TREE WILL PLAY A FULL EVENING OF OUR MUSIC ON THURSDAY, SEPT 8
& A SHORTER SET AS PART OF THE CRACKER VAN BEETHOVEN CAMP OUT ON SATURDAY, SEPT 10
BOTH AT THE LOVELY PAPPY & HARRIET'S PIONEERTOWN PALACE,
THE HOME OF CHUCKWALLA FESTIVAL, SAGE FESTIVAL AND
WHEN THE LEVEE BREAKS: HIGHER GROUND (NOVEMBER 26, 2005)
CLICK ON HIGHER GROUND FOR MORE DETAILS AS THEY HAPPEN...
SUNDAY SEPT 4: RADIO FREE JOSHUA TREE WILL FEATURE MUSIC OF NEW ORLEANS -
HAIL ATLANTIS!! WWW.BEATNIKRADIO.COM - DISCUSSION BEGINS AT 7PM - BEATNIK CAFE
LATE BREAKING NEWS: THE REVITALIZED LOS ANGELES FREE PRESS, BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND,
PREVIEW ISSUE HAS GONE TO PRESS AND WILL BE AVAILABLE AFTER LABOR DAY. FEATURES INCLUDE THE STORY BEHIND THE CATASTROPHE IN NEW ORLEANS, AN INTERVIEW WITH IRAQ WAR PROTESTERS ON TRIAL FOR CONSPIRACY, THE FREEP 4O YEARS AGO TODAY: THE WATTS REBELLION (THE NEGROES HAVE VOTED!) AND TODAY: THE VOTING RIGHTS ACT - AND MANY MORE.
SUBSCRIBE TO THE NEWSLETTER NOW: WWW.LOSANGELESFREEPRESS.COM
THEN SUBSCRIBE TO THE PAPER THAT STARTED THE ALTERNATIVE PRESS IN THE U.S.
FOUNDED BY ART KUNKIN IN 1964, WHERE EVERY READER IS A REPORTER!!