Dear Landlord

Morning pages 10.31.09*

John Cale’s tinkling piano was a great addition to the sound that the Velvet Underground dragged out of the factory and into the consciousness of all deep thinking musicians.

John Cale, Pisces two, somehow the weaker. Weaker? I love the cello, the violin, the drone.

Left alone, I don’t sense the depth but everybody has a part to play.

I am awake and I have done my 10 miles on the fakebike after a couple of days off. Virus made my body achy and fatigued but not too bad.

Today Frank and I will go to Colleen Barry’s Halloween party. Time has worked things around so that the artist I’ve admired most in Redding has invited me to a gathering.

Beings of light and the powers that be have sent energy through time and here I am on the receiving end.

The sun is shining, I’m in my work space by the windows, looking out on the yard, listening to Lou Reed sing Heroin cuz I am tuned in to all the Velvets songs on my iPod. It’s a good morning.

“I’ll be your mirror,” sings Nico. “Please put down your hands, cuz I see you.”

I am waiting for iTunes to load up a new version of something. I just wanted to import the Velvets third and most holy album to my nano. I wait.

Earlier, I danced down the walkway outside the house while listening to I’m Waiting for My Man, a little double stepping to come down from the fakebike high, sloowly.

There are certain things we assume these days about staying alive. We assume that money is essential. We assume that we must go to work in exchange for money. We aren’t providing for our own needs. We aren’t growing everything we eat. We have been largely driven away from the agrarian format. We accept a lot of middle men in our lives.

“I’m waiting for my middle man.”

“Dear Landlord, please don’t take away my ____.” My what? Can’t remember Bob’s line. John Wesley Harding is a good LP. It’s been a long time.

Oh, no. It’s “please don’t put a price on”  something. On what?

Google, memory’s middle man, will help me out.

 

Oh, yeah “Dear landlord, please don’t put a price on my soul.” How could I forget? That’s what I’m taking about.

*Please forgive my self-indulgence. I’m trying out Julia Cameron’s free write experiment. This is my first day.

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