Muse in the Morning |
Time for a break from poetry…in order to create some art.
You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.
— Friedrich Nietzsche |
Burning 2 |
May 24 2011
May 23 2011
May 23 2011
Cross-posted at DailyKos.
I have some fond memories to share. After reliving the experience of seeing The Dizzy Gillespie Dream Band, thoughts drummed up about another aspect of Lincoln Center. The nostalgia for a once famous bar that was across the street on 63rd and Amsterdam, a place where I once helped make the music and sang along for many years, came on strong.
Let me start out where Alvie Singer ended because it is a good way to set the stage. In the background during the final scene from Annie Hall you can see the concert hall where Dizzy Gillespie blew me away but in the foreground, the camera was set up in a bar and restaurant that was once called “O’Neals’ Baloon.”
The view is for you. I need no reminders of what O’Neils Balloon looked like and this in not a story about me. Perhaps this is a story about a forgotten era that might just be making a comeback after of the success of the movie Black Swan. Well not really, more popularity and higher ticket prices can never take up the slack where the National Endowment for the Arts left off.
This is a story of a painting getting its act together and taking it on the road, a story of ballet at the barre and a recollection of times gone by. Just memories of a social gathering spot that was name “balloon” because it was illegal to call a bar a “saloon” in New York City. Those Blue Laws have been changed now. So much has changed now. So much has been forgotten.
May 20 2011
Muse in the Morning |
Time for a break from poetry…in order to create some art.
In the middle of this it was good to have some moments in which whatever was left of you could sit in silence. When you could remember. When the evidence that had gathered could be sorted. And it was a difficulty if another person imagined these moments were their property. Your life got sliced from two sides like a supermarket salami until there was nothing left in the middle. You were the bits that had been given away right and left to others. Because they wanted the piece of you that belonged to them. Because they wanted more. Because they wanted passion. And you did not have it.
–Philip Ó Ceallaigh |
Ornament 10 |
May 19 2011
May 18 2011
May 17 2011
Muse in the Morning |
Time for a break from poetry…in order to create some art.
In the antiseptic world we try to purge ourselves of difficult things. Don’t dwell on it, switch off the light and go home. But this is home. I have to be a home to myself. I am the place I come back to and I can’t keep hiding difficult things in trunks. Soon the house will be full of trunks and I perched on top of them with the phone saying, “Yes, I’m fine, of course, I’m fine, everything’s fine.” The trunks shudder.
–Jeanette Winterson |
Ornament 7 |
May 16 2011
May 13 2011
May 12 2011
May 11 2011
May 10 2011