Move along, nothin’ to see here …
( yet … )
This is a first stab at basic blog posting via phone.
Not that I’ve been doing much (which is to say: any) blogging from the laptop of late, but I decided to reserve the right to post from the road should inspiration strike during our upcoming two weeks away to Scotland, Amsterdam, and Paris.
For no good reason other than to see how it pans out, here’s a picture:
This is our friends’ (Noah and Andy) dog Kala. Excellent snout presentation, no?
Continuity be damned – here’s a second completely unrelated pic:
That’s a weeks-ago, then work-in-progress shot of the paper / cardboard masks that D and I made for our Burning Man camp mates.
Fingers crossed that what pans out after i hit publish looks decent enough. If yes, watch this space during the first half of October.
A good friend of mine sent me an email a few days ago, and attached to it was a jpeg of some handwritten notes that saxophonist Steve Lacy had taken during his time working with Thelonious Monk. It was a double delight, first in that my friend caught this, liked it, knew I would too, and sent it along, but second that this is something that I had come across independently a month or so ago on a really outstanding and intelligent jazz blog that I enjoy.
Here’s this deliciously cryptic document, field notes from inside the band setting of one of the jazz world’s most groundbreaking and unconventional figures, dating from 1960 no less, brought to the light of day and making the rounds decades later at light speed.
1) I have got to get my scan on.
It’s a bit of an impediment to flow, having a scanner, having a computer, but not having the wherewithal to have them shake hands and work together.
* sigh … *
I own it: I’m not gadget guy. But this is not part and parcel of me being a tech cheese-fist. There is definitively no driver that exists for my particular scanner that will work within this machine / os configuration. Old hp, old mac. Screw it, I’ll schlep my wares over to glom of a friend’s rig before too much longer, I hope.
Been fairly productive, line wise. Out of no where, I’ve taken to drawing without pencil, and, necessarily, significantly, without eraser. That’s kind of a big symbolic deal.
2) What a wake-up call this morning, facing my saxophonic rustiness. That’s. What. Happens when you don’t find time to play. My diaphragmatic processes and structures are total mung. Dang. I literally need to relearn how to breathe correctly into a saxophone.
Which means that I need to find time, and a place, to accomplish this.
3) First published blog contribution! Also kind of a big symbolic deal. Many thanks, Dan.
I’d be remiss to not encourage any who find their way here to meander on over there as you travel the tubes.
No one did aphorism like Benjamin Franklin…except for Mark Twain, perhaps, whose wit, really, now that I think about it, was of his own special delivery. So I guess Twain’s capacity for big truths in little sentences really wasn’t like Franklin’s–himself, a rare, unique figure–at all.
Ah, fergit it.
I guess my point here is twofold:
One, I thought that it would be appropriate before I got too far into this to establish my fondness for the absurd. The banner graphic may have served as a clue (really now, what’n hell IS that, anyway? I ask this of things that appear in my sketchbook all the time…) but to be clear, this blog will not be an entirely serious matter. Hilarity may or may not ensue. YMMV.
Two: Twain, and Franklin (and legions of others any of you may care to point out my having overlooked) were masters of short-form large truths. I’m not likely to ever claim that as a strong suit. Polonius is my co-pilot.
Still, every now and then, a nicely-distilled and possibly useful observation does come to mind. And I offer one, below.
Time will only tell if I can dedicate myself to tending to this cranny of the intertubes on a responsible basis–through consistent thinking / writing / posting–or if the digital realm is to be littered with the corpse of yet another blog that I starved to death.