Archive for bob dylan

Dear Landlord

Posted in constructions, music, projects with tags , , , , , , , on October 31, 2009 by darcyarts

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.

Advertisements

SF Art and Biscuits

Posted in Art, cute, family, projects with tags , , , , , on April 8, 2009 by darcyarts

My daughter Jessica is making some really cool things these days.

jessredlips

She’s in a period of high creativity.

She called Tuesday to have me check out my myspace where she had left pictures of her new work.

It is beautiful and intricate and comes from rock like our whole lives have, sort of.

alltogethernowThese are about seven inches tall, said  Jess.

She found the crosses in the dollar store she lives above in San Francisco.

Here we have Jimmy Page, Miss Mercy of the GTOs and Capt. Beefheart. I love the rainbow strips. So cool.

Radiant light, radiant color, this is what I imagine our spirit energy to be, radiant light.

beefheartcrossYou can actually see Beefheart in this photograph.

Safe as Milk and twice as pretty.

dylanchiefHow about Bob Dylan wrapped in a cloak of pale blue?

jimmypagecrossJimmy Page was an early inspiration for Miss Jess. He was enchanting as a young lad and didn’t he make some spellbinding music.

mercythingMiss Mercy of the GTOs, a beautiful full body cross.

picture018gailGail Zappa, wife of Frank, young house mother to the GTOs at times.

Gail is the cutest original free thinking woman of those times, though Miss  Pamela was sweet.

Jessica and I both read Miss Pamela Des Barres tales of being close to the music makers of a golden time.

Imagine being in the studio with gram Parsons as he plays the piano and sings you one of the saddest songs. Your heart would swell and you would never ever forget that soul pouring out. A moment shared and she shared it with us.

Jessica made contact not long ago at a book reading in S.F.

jessandmisspamelaSo cute and so smart these girls are the real thing.

Jess has more crosses coming into being right now.

She’ll do a Pamela, no doubt, and probably a Gram Parsons.

Biscuits tomorrow.

Come On In My Kitchen

Posted in Art, dreams, etsy, music, socialization, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on July 29, 2008 by darcyarts

 

This morning I can breathe! The air is so clear compared to the smoked mushroom soup we’ve had to suck into our lungs for the last month.

It feels fresh and the greens are growing and dude, I’m stoked to be living my life.

I hear the smoke is due to fall back into the valley again but I wont’ think of it now.

The container garden is doing well. We’ve had plates of garden produce to add to meals.

Roma tomatoes, Early Girls (yummy), Basil and one red chili pepper which is very mild. For breakfast I cook eggs and salmon with sliced chilis and basil.

We have these yellow peppers. I do not know what type they are though some are big and fat.  

 

 I feel so unworthy to speak of vegetation after reading chuck b’s whore-ticulture.

Here is just one wonderful page full of delights.

It starts out with pix of items being packed up before redecoration begins and then chuck b gets to the flora.

Everytime I go there I get lost in chuck b’s world. It’s enchanting. Here is his fresh blog My Back 40. Scanning the pix on the first post I found my favorite flowers — Naked Ladies!!!! They smell heavenly. I’m sure in the other world the whole place smells just like Naked Ladies or Amaryllis Belladonna (thanks, chuck).

As a child we lived near Disneyland. What a Psych-Fest it was but even in the midst of all that sparkle and fantasy I would always find my way to the Main Street gift shop. They had candles that had that scent. I would pick them up, breath deep and trance right out.

The first time I encountered the aroma of an Amaryllis Belladona I was ecstatic. There was that beautiful smell after so long.

This picture of Amaryllis is from the blog southernbulbs.com

Here are some pictures from my kitchen:

This is my new lamp fixture. It is beautiful glass in someof my favorite colors. I have fixed it over the light bulb portion of this way-too-country fan/lamp combo. It is a great improvement. It cost $5.50 at my local thrift store.

Succulants sit in one of the kitchen windows. When these plants were outside I had the jade plant in a planter beside the aloe vera. by the end of the warm weather, when I brought them inside, the jade plant had creeped into the aloe vera planter and put down roots. Now the pots are joined.

My Josh Homme painting hangs on the wall above this great fish made by Shasta High’s art club, the Mad Mudders.

Orange things and pink things, purple onions, garlic, yellow peas, chop sticks and packaged condiments from Panda Bowl (Homer drool).

 There are shelves on either side of the window over the kitchen sink. I have pix and knick knacks on them. Musicians and Hindi god figures and candles.

Eno, a shell and a yellow light. Eno’s web presence.

Bob Dylan and Brian Jones, a candle decorated by the fabulous musician Jessica Pratt.

 

I love this picture of Jim Morrison with a juicy watermelon.

Oh . . . do you think it’s suggestive? Naughty boys rule.

It definitely looks like an invitation to sensual pleasure, and summer delights.

There are dried flowers hanging near him in this window.

If you look carefully at the photo with the deserty palm plant (I’m no vulture for horticulture) you can see my candle decorated with an image of John Waters in a beauty salon. The cat is Tipsy.

Let the light in and breathe deep.

Time is an illusion and while we are counting. a world is woven from the things we forget.

I dreamed I had a ticket to go to France. Then I realized I couldn’t make the trip.

I dreamed beautiful musical instruments kept being delivered to our mailbox and Frank would bring them in. One was a handmade, one of a kind Bass for him.

I had a wooden handcarved guitar thing with two drone strings. One heavy and one light. The heavy one was on the outside.

What if your name was Peter Coyote.