"The San Diego Plot to Steal Deep South Texas" - E . J . F l a t o

"The San Diego Plot to steal Deep South Texas" 

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NARRATOR: In a baseball cap, near foreground.

This is a true story of Texas history.  Happened to me when I was about 9 – now I’m as old as the folks in the story.

"my day, my normal day, for a nine year old in the Texican /Mexican   border country,,,during the few years of relative peace there, began in the garage helping my dad  make bullets, a necessary chore for a man who made a legal living with a gun on his hip."

Daily practice was the rule, because each time you drew it could be a life or death situation. We were meeting two Ranger friends at a shooting range, and I asked my Dad “why are we here?" He said: "I wanted you to meet these folks!"

Mr. Jim Cottingham, whom you know well, and this is Mr. John R. Peavey a Ranger Scout whose hip shooting techniques have made the text books, lot of laughter. Mr. Peavey performed several amazing demonstrations of his hipshots with a pistol and a Winchester.

Then Mr. Jim Cottingham brought out his newest, this was the first time he'd put them to the test,, two chrome 45's like his usual silver trigger 45's but all shiney with handles of carved Wooly Mastadone tusk. I never saw what the carvings were, but they were beautiful, there was a little bluing on the chrome behind the handle.

With one of these in each hand he gave my dad a signal to throw an old paint can, and during the next minute kept the can flying with twin 45 slugs,,,,,wow,,,

I was young and impressionable but that was over the top.

My dad cooked at sundown and then the stories of Texas in its most lawless days came out.

No alcohol was present to fuel the theater, just low, “pity for the specie innuendo” in their voices,, but all had their sidearms on the table, out of habit I guess.

Mr. Jim requested the story of "The San Diego Plot to Steal Deep South Texas",,,,,from the lips of a man who had lived it,,,! Mr. John Peavey.

Scene changes to campfire with three silhouettes listening to Ranger Scout John R. Peavey. 

Lights go down as narrator moves to his chair position.  Lights come up and it’s Mr. Peavey cleaning his pistol, but really the narrator in a cowboy hat.

“In those days,,(January 1915) San Diego was often referred to as the free state of Duval tho it was the county seat. The head politico boss, the Duke of Duval.,,,,,,,,,,, Did whatever he wanted here in the middle of this thorny desert.

In the nearby town of Hebbronville there were no gambling houses, saloons or prostitutes ,,,while San Diego had little else,,, lots of prostitutes, bootleggers and smugglers, and urban structures to support it all -- a thriving little crossroads of evil,,,! The tequileros muletrains from the border ended here and the rail line from Laredo to Corus Christi passed through. And from this nest of lowlifes with guns, rumors had been flying for weeks about a meeting of all the wealthy Mexican land owners, and in early January of 1915 public speakers claimed the “land between the Rio Grande and the Nueces rivers belonged to the Mexican people”, and that if they banded together they could take it away from Texas and form a new republic,,,and furthermore,,there' were many handbills (printed in Spanish) announcing all Negros and foreigners were invited to join this revolution backed by two long time residents of Cameron Co. De La Rosa and Pizanno.,,,,The hand bill continues, on Feburary 22 after dark, they would take up arms and destroy all male gringos over sixteen,,but the women and children would be left alone ,,as a reward they would be given land in the new republic.

The Rio Grande valley folk got so upset they sent McAllen vigilantes into Mexico after the two men. The press that printed the handbills was found in Brownsville and all were incarcerated in Corpus Christi.

Free will’s dance partner is grand suspicion.

Border justice abides. In all nationalities there abounds thieves, cut throats and bandits. But the disorganized conditions of Old Mexico at that time because of the haciendistas revolution, provided verdant soil for them to organize, and flourish, much like the cartels today,,, as a response some local citizens shot first and asked no questions.

Because intermarriage and families along the river has had no bigotry attached for thousands of years they all knew each other.

The U.S. Border defense under Wilson was a little like the Korean war under Truman where the commies had sanctuary beyond the 38th parallel -- the Mexican bandits were safe south of the Rio Grande,,,,,,,,,what?,,,,, oh yeah,,,,,,

Thanks of course to the “swivel chair cowboys” in Washington D.C.

From 1915 to 1917 the banditos activity increased manyfold and also pursuant to orders (from the top) the arms embargo was on for a few weeks,,,then off for a few days, and for the military no shooting on Mexican soil, it was easy to see who was connected, and made $$,,, still no one was held accountable.

So vigilanti justice became the order of the day,,a detachment from the 26th infantry near Santa Maria ,right down on the river, were being fired upon from the trees across the Rio Grande. The snipers had a height advantage over their sand bags, and soldiers were being picked off as in a game,, they could not fire back.

Even tho I could not participate, I could guide, so early the next morning I took a customs agent and a deputy sheriff to a low vantage point, up river,, about 8:o'clock the bandits climbed the trees and began to taunt and shoot at the soldiers,, begging them to come out and fight,,,,

twelve bullets and twelve bodies later, the bandits had to re-think their position,,

the ones on the ground did not even make the brush, and hide.. As I mentioned many citizens were also good with their guns.

Then in March of 1915,Villa started his rampage south along the Rio Grande ,taking over every town down to Brownsville. Eventually General John Pershing was brought in, and it played out like all wars, folks get hurt and someone way off gets rich from the weapons and the bullets and the loot.,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,”

Lights go down and the scene changes back to storyteller in the baseball cap :

At this point Mr. Jim began telling about how our campsite was once a huge ebony forest burned down by the govt. to get rid of banditos. But It had been a long day,, and this nine year old Buckaroo, went to sleep,, with dreams asunder, knowing my dad would keep me safe !

Very very slow dissolve to dark,,,,,

                    APPLAUSE

L A X

I fly in the wheelchair class ,when I air plane,because, as a young adrinalin junkie,,an motorcycle racer,we took the high side ,,foot down,sliding too fast ,up-hill,me and th' bike went over,the foot caught under some bullnettle, and stayed behind. I love it ,my chair mates are usually a lively,openioned,and colorful,,,I can ,like most others ,get to the loo,,or thru a X-ray skan,,but after that its a coin/flip as to what that left knee is going to do,,,but,oh,well,,,,

Left Austin ,planeing with some soldiers many wanted to knuckle/knock,,,,whew,,,thanks,glad its not me,,,and a few hollywood wannabees,,,,,,,,young actor and his family,disgusting manners,,,and a loud older couple needing to talk "FILM",,if you get my drift,do you feel me?,,,I'm 72,and going to California for my first time,,,

knuckle/knock yo'self,baby,,,,I'll tell you whuat !,,,thank you Lord for making me wait till now,,,California would have eaten me alive if I had come here back in th' day,,,,

'Flyan' into LAX,,looking fo a place to relax,,my wheelchair girl{lady} looked exactally like every 60ish latina I've ever met in Austin,,,,but her voice was a cross between Marilyn and Jane Russell [hand to God,] I'm not hallusinating,,,reverse jet lag!,,her voice to me,,,,but when she got on the phone to call about my driver,,her voice changed in to deep,east LA,,or Austin wierdscreech,,I have a good ear,but I

could not understand a word,and it was english,or had an english daddy,,,same voice she talked to my driver in,,,,,,,whom we had to follow around the parking garage for twenty or so minoots,,,,while he would stand on this or that,, bumper and work the clikker,looking for the limo,,,,,

 and she kept up a lively chatter in either ,to me {the Marylin/Jane vox} or to the driver [Austinwierdscreech] there is definitely a stoner undertow,on the ground,here ,,,,finally my driver arrived at a fatblack throwback,,,,,,and she said to me {in the sweetest Marylin vox} "oh please,no tip,I give full service chair,,, ",,,,I must have fainted ,and came to in the back of the limo,,,,,,headed/cross/town,

I could not exist in the slo-mo of traffic there ,only motorcyclists make any time,,howsomever eventually'

our family is blessed with entertaining children,and a Thanksgiving table was replete with prayers of thanks,and all the go-withs,,laughter et al,,,you know the drill,,it was all good !,,,and over the next few days,we drove up to Ventura to visit a friend,and she took us to a Catholic School,which had bran new copy of the classic cross plan,cathederal ,,,woo,so clean and white,very impressive, retro-baroque,our friend ask what I thought of it,,I said I'd never seen one clean before,,,and the friend who'd never been to Europe,got this funny look on her face,,and said "I thought this was new",,,,and there the conversation died,,,woo ! California dreammin' ,,,,I picked up a copy of the Ventura county reporter,and thummed the medical marijuana ads warning agnist skype scripts,,,,"beware of dr.'s in Ventura county who skype,your card may not be accepted at dispensaries or by law enforcement",,,step 1:doctor must have a fictitious name permit,,,,( HUH?),,step 2:doctor must physically be on location,,,(HUH???),,,step 3:go here to verify dr. has a fictitious name permit,,{www.mbc.ca.gov} under licensees do a search,,,,,(HUH??????)all dr.s licensed & on location (DUH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!),,,,next to that was an ad for "Leafiegreenmeds",a 50$ script,,,,pretty young female doctor on site,,with none of the worries the other site had.,,,then an ad for Shangri la la la medicalmeds,,,and verious health industry services,,,we joked about going to the Oxnard Tamalie Fest,but not for long !

driving back to LA from Ventura,I was reminded of that song by America,"Ventura highway in the mornin' sun"maybe back in th' day ,but now we can only go 20 mph,,its easy to compute how long it will be before I can Pee agin,or Guy Clarkes "if I can just get off this LA freeway ,without gettin killed or caught",,

and the serpentinered tailights snake thru the hills,all the way to the sky,,,next time I'll bring a catherter,& bag,,,  finally its time to leave and a moment came when lots-o-hugs and drop-off at check-in

and my good wife finds me a chair/girl,,who puts me in the que,the wheelchair que,,and I am #1 ,,#2 is a gentelman slightly more wore-out than me,,,,,,,I was laughing with my wife,now sitting across from me and saying ; "don't freak out,,,,and roll a duber",,,,,,and this broke the ice between us. He told me of his new passion,THC and he was taking the other cannibnoid the cancer cure one,,,at last he'd found someone to tell his life story to,,hey,I'm a good listener,,,half way into his big accident segment,tho,,,his phone rang,,

the bell/tone was from Rod Serlings series,"Twilight Zone"                 

"excuse me I gotta get this,its my son,,," long silence ensued,,,,after which ,in a totally different voice,,,,,

"well I can tell you this,when the shit does hit the fan,the increments will not be dispersed evenly,,,

two:there is no known math formula,which can predict the trajectory of said increments,,,

three: who put a fan in the bowl and why? and four : "did you really sit down without looking?",,,,,

at that point my chair gal & wife whisk me away to the elevator,,to meet a new "WHEELIE" like myself,,,

LAX employees seem so very cheerful,as tho they never get tired of the ever changing fashion show ,,daily for those in uniform,,,

then theres always the short cock-eyed guy ,who always seems to be looking at me sort-of,with one eye and not with the other,,and theres' the soldiers ,,,

in the uniforms they flew out in,,,,going back to Camp Mabre in Austin,,,,,,,,,,knocking knuckles with the airline employees,and a little kid who wanted one,,,

thats when Walter was wheeled up next to me,,he seemed a little discombubalated,,because our flight was still in Sacramento FOGGED IN !!!! ,,,,but,oh,well !,,,

Walter was twisting around in his chair,as tho his position wasn't right ,,,wheelchair folk have to sit close together ,but we try to give as much privicy as possible,so I just look down as Walter goes on with his son,on the phone,who did not want to carry on the family biz.,,when he turned away,,I ask Doris ,my wife what he said,,"something about Leafy,was all I heard",,,thats when I noticed his shoes,they were different,,his phone was loud enough for me to hear the sons words as well,,,

the son was trying to get dad to try Mary/jane for his lack of appitite,but dad was not gona do drugs,,,the shoes were similar but not the same,there were new laces's (light shade) but on two different shades of brown,and the stiching on the toes were different,,, one a tan,,,,,, the other a chocklet,

something a color blind personmight not see,

Walters late wife,always took care of that sort of thing,,,now the son had started his own Medical Marijuana shop,,somewhere not far away,and could care less about the family bizness,,but Walter

was not going to become a druggie,,,his wife would not have liked that,,!,,,,,,,,,,,,!  

he bent down and retied one shoe,as tho one shoe needed something,,,,Walter hung up and grumbled to hisself a standard ole man phrase ,,pick your favorite,and insert here,,,and weare about two hours,, into a six and a half hour layover,,,thats when I noticed Drew {my favorite charicter} glanceing at Walter,,,

Drew knew Walter would not look at him,covered with tatoos he was,,,,,I knew Drews name because it was written on the side of his neck,,and underlined with an arrow which pointed to a tatoo of his heart ,,ON HIS THROAT ,,the graphic was simple,,"Drew speaks from his heart",,a bad jailhouse tatoo,easy to spot,bad ink,not that I've done time,but the cartoon of himself and some other guy on his arm ,,behind bars,sez a lot,,Drew had his arm around a cute underage ,,obviusely his daughter,same nose,,and dad can escorte her to the plane if she too young,,,and be up near the gate,,,,

they were laughing at the joy of being alive together,, an in that small anti-room of the brain,where books are illustrated ,and solo lines rehursed,,where real communication happens,,oblivious to the world,at large,,,playing reaction time games,where one flips the hand quickly enough to slap the back of anothers outstreached hand,,,or sitting in the wheelchair section,with her sweater over their heads,so its dark enough to play the computer game,,,endless REAL laughter ,,,Drew kept turning his baseball cap around,

and on it was written : "Leafiegreenmeds .com"  presummably where Drew worked,,he gave me a smile when they sat down,then looked right past me at Walter

,,,,I didn't think much about it at the time,,it was hour four an a half of the fogged in flight,,,and I felt a doze comming on,,I was first on the plane and when Drew's daughter came on the plane and it was like Mose Allison's line,

"I know her daddy got some money, I can tell by the way she walk",,the georgeous almost grown,young girl knew she didn't know much ,but she knew she had the coolest dad in the world,,,that I can understand,and relate to ,and I thought of my dad as I dozed off in the seat.  L A X   theres' another side to this life,,,,,,,,ten hours gate to gate.   WOO

"Anticipatience is yet another form of action" by E . J . F L A T O 2014

On one of my visits to Pietrasanta,Italy,,I was looking at verious sculpture techniques ,,and passing thru the Piatza del Duomo,I came upon a large public sculpture installation,,it had a large inverted bell,shape,large enough for me to slip my head and sholders inside,and blow my harpoon softly to hear what it sounds like,,,

thats when he caught me,,"hey you, I got a very blue guitar behind the bar at Michaelangelos bar",,,,,one of the things you discover about Pietrasanta is that everyone in the town is,,married to,sleeping with,selling to, buying from,working for,or related to some artist of one kind or another,,,

my new friend was a "sprue architect" or some one who designs where the bronze goes in the lost wax process,most efficiently,an art form within an art form,,he said meet me two doors down from "Da Ski resturant" in an hour and I 'll show you the scene,,,

I watched as he ran off ,,following some kid on a bike,who peddled up just then,,,I drank some more cappichino and sketched the square from the steps of the Duomo,,,and in about an hour I sauntered off toward the Da Ski,,,and 50 metersbefore I got there,my friend came around the corner with a bag of the obligatory wine and cheese,,and some bars of red wax.

this was in the days before my association with the Antognazzi    studio  and so I was trying to familerize meself with the local "Art scene", this man was also the model for the sculpture in progress,

so when we walked in he introduced me to the sculptress,and began taking off his clothes,,she was undressed as well ,except for a long apron to protect her from the hot wax,,,she,,,standing on a box was fashioning a somewhat "heroic" form of the model with a bulls head,,all in a dark redish purple wax,,the room was narrow and tight and hot ,,good for modeling wax,I was invited to disrobe as well,and,indeedI lost a layer, it felt good to feel normal agin,,,

the sculptress exclaimed with faux surprize,"I can tell by your underwear your an artist",,,hurrumph,sez I and broke into a few verses of "O Solo Mio" to show my performance arrogance,,,I've always found it amazing that sculptors,(spaceial folk,those who carve,) are somehow always involved with music ,,,and these two were no different,manageing to find a harmony on the last few verses,,,,,,,,!

my new friend told me, he had some chunks of colored marmol,for sale ,and that was on my "to do"list,,so after he'd been up on his small stage for a spell holding on to the pose markers,,we all took a break and went out back for a smoke,,

"Ah but that the hearts reach should exceed its grasp, or whats an EGO for?",,,,,,,,or,,,,,,,,

" the heart fascinates itself,,,,,and in doing so,gives meaning to habit !"

and all the philosophy bullshit in the world ,will not be able to remove the unnecessary marble ,to reveal

a lovely carving,,,,,!,,so three,mostly, necked adults,two standing and smoking,one a ciggaret,one a pipe,

and the other measureing and sketching 100 kilo colored marble chunks,in a note book does not even raise an eyebrow in Pietrasanta,,,

and they were lovely pieces of marmol,creamy reds to dark tuscan redish purple,,,,,and the other was a sky blue/white to a jade/dark green,the latter became a frog in Philly,,and the former became a horneytoad in Texas,,all before I could get my hands on them,,,,I've seen,(and touched each,after the act )

and felt a little rush ,having known the stones before their hew,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

there is one piece left,back in the corner,covered by much brush,,,and it is still there today,,,, I kept in touch,,, ,about 200 kelos,mostly black,ranging from brownish black to bluish,purple black,,,in the midst of this dark swerrling mass ,is a 4 inch wide lightning shaped streak going diagional thru an thru,of creamy tangerine red,going to a brilliant blood red carmine,

obviously I still dream of it,,on my to do list,but not on my speed dial,,,(joke, clearly, I'm not a celman,)

we went back into the tight hot little studio,and neckid "Tarus Man" assumed his place on the stage holding onto the marker posts,,I could see the red wax figuar was a cartoon of him ,but the bulls head smacked of her own invention,,"we can talk while she melts,and nudges,,,step onto the stage beside me and you can see the cross-section drawing on the wall behind me shows all the places sprues will be needed to complete the pour,,," I bent over to examine what looked like an architectural drawing of the sculpture,,,,,

I heard a door open behind me,,and shortly,mr. bullman copped a woodie (slight erection) and a laughing sculptress said "no way John,I don't have enough wax for that,and besides it'll take another sprue.",,,,,,because his GIRLfriend had walked in,,

much giggling all around ,and a wine and cheese break was up,,next,and shortly the hash came out,,and when the two girls left,,, laughing off to the shower,,,,,I did sieze the moment,though he begged me to stay,,I said, "I have miles to go,and many laughs before I weep,but I'll be on the piatza bout dark-thirty,an we can blowsome stoney blues,,,,,,,maybe we can make enough for a bottle of good red,,,,buona sera!"

"the heart fascinates itself ,and in doing so,gives meaning to habit,,this inturn begets EGO,,Alora"

here we are.

  E   .   J   .   F   L   A   T   O     t w e n t y f o u r t e e n

Doggie Glee

My friend,,, I had to share this short story with you,as we are always

discussing sound design and sound related stuff,,,,,I spend most of my time right here,making art,discussing the grand babies with Doris,etc.,,,,,,,,and listening to the two dogs next door,,,

because we are so close,and I cain't turn them off,,,,I have come to know them very well,,Doris is my witness here,,she has heard them too !,,,,,the bigger dog, black with some whippit blood,,is enharmonic,,ie.can sing,,I met one other dog like that,,{a large spotted Dalmation fire house dog,with a neck largre than mine}

I played piano and he hit the pitch,when I would sing and play,he would chose when to come in,,,anyway,,,the second dog is a dashund ,a little winer dog,a yapper,,,(mindless endless yapper),,

over the last year,Big black whip,has been singing a lot,,and on Christmas eve at 9:45 A.M. the yapper began to TRY to immatate the big dog,,short,sustained yealps at first but by night,he could memic the yodal voice of the big dog,,,,

by the time I returned from Houston,he had acquired a tiny yodal of his own,,,today,,for the first time,I heard them try to sing unisons,,,together,

I would not believe it ,if I had not heard it myself !!!!!!!!!! the other dogs around had been silenced (cold weather,etc.) and

their owners don't see them much,,so their prision was smaller than mine,,to be sure the little dog hasn't given up the yapping,

but,,,,doggie glee,,,,common now,,,,,,but why not???,,,,

I'm just the human singer in the cell next to their yard,,perhaps they are lonely,[I am not],,,

but I like them better when they sing,,,,,,,,,and I'm sure folks like me better when I sing !

And there in the wood,a piggy wig stood,,,
with a ring in the end of his nose,,,,,
too, a periwinkle vine,in a dark shade of lime,
grew up between his cloven toes,,,,,
 There was mystery afoot,
with the roof and the shingle,for growing there too,
was a wild periwinkle,,but this one was limon 
and had no vine,,,,small and round as a garden hose,
 and about the size of that ring in his nose,,,
So, from that day forth,every chance I
could,I found my way to that secluded wood,,,and 
every time ,I could see him from the roof,,,
the piggy wig ,and vine with the cloven hoof,,,,
and there below my foot,growing thru the shingle,,
 a bright yellow wild, limon periwinkle,,
the vines grew quickly around my ankles and soon,,
 I was caught in a periwinkle mangle,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
This tome is taking way too much time and 
I'm gettin' tired of making things rhyme,
 So,BYE ! LOVE yourself,,I do !

Every Word Was Once a Poem

Every word was once a poem. - Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher (1803-1882)

Learning is weightless, a treasure you can always carry easily. - Chinese proverb

The luck of having talent is not enough; one must also have a talent for luck. - Hector Berlioz, composer (1803-1869)

A person usually has two reasons for doing something: a good reason and the real reason. - Thomas Carlyle, historian and essayist (1795-1881)

One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night. - Margaret Mead, anthropologist (1901-1978)

Bird Shadows

              BIRD   SHADOWS,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,!

HER LOVE WAS LIKE A BIRD SHADOW ,DARKING THE WALL,FLASHING STARLING PASSES ,THEN NO WHERE AT ALL,,BUT SOME OF US ARE POETS,TAKING WHAT THE WIND WILL BRING,,PESTERING THE SEASONS ,WINTER INTO SPRING,,,OTHERS PLY THE BREEZE,FEEL THE NEED TO SING,AND ALWAYS FLYING HIGHER,LOVING ON THE WING,, ,,THERE IN LIES THE PROBLEM,IF INDEED ONE DOES EXIST,SOME WILL ASK THE QUESTION,OTHERS WILL RESIST,

I NEEDED A DOUBLE HEART,ONE TO WATCH MY BACK,AND ONE TO FEED THE CHILDREN,AT HOME IN THE SHACK,,SO SHE FLEW AWAY,AS I KNEW SHE WOULD,AND NEVER ASK THE QUESTION,WHAT KIND OF LOVE IS GOOD,,,,NOW I'M COUNTING SHADOWS ALONE IN THE PARK,AND NEVER ASK THE QUESTION,WHAT HAPPENS AFTER DARK,,CAUSE QUESTIONS COME AND GO,BIRD SHADOWS ON THE BRICK,,

MY HEART REMAINS UNANSWERED,IS THAT WHAT MAKES IT TICK ?

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Once you belong...

                            "Free will,once you belong"

loved his testerone,,,,and occasional mike-row-phone,,,,

combed his hair to fit his cowlick,,gave some thought to going public,,,,,,,

on a stance of public grace,,,a goatee dripping off his face,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

he said vote for me son,,,cause I don't owe anyone,,,,

even tho I bleed,,I can get ya,what ya need,,,,,,and,,,,

you can have me for a song,,,,,,,Once You Belong,,

                                                Once You Belong,,,

                              Once You Belong,,,

Given Poetry

if I were given poetry,,and it was my only thing,,,,,

could I respect worldly words,,enough to never sing,

some sound sublime ?,,,,what?,,,,,just juggle rhyme?

clearly,makes me weary,,chewi'n up dictionaries,,,

spittin' out vocabularies,,,,,,,,!

but poetry doin't come easy,,,laughter,,,suprise,,,pain,,,

and way too much of that human stain,,,,,,,and ,,

in the end,,sooner or later,,,,,,,,,,,,

its just fading marks on a scrap of paper,,,,

once enthused,,now bearly used,,,

still the exercise was purely gold ,,,,

if at the time it fed your soul.

         E   .   J   .   F   L   A   T   O        2013

Artist's Statement

,,,,,,,,,My life has been guided low these 75 years,by a moment in time that happened at a very early age,,around 4 or so I got my firstJOKE,,,,the folks were laughing at an old man,,who had become "SOT" in his ways,,,(ie. set in his ways) gales of laughter,and even tears

its the early 40's an puns were in,,,,,,,,I vowed to persue laughter the rest of my life and to ALWAYS keep an open mind,and never get laughted at for being,,SOT in my ways,,,,this beget a philosophy of LUCK and a study of cartooning finger delight,along with music for its own sake.....thank you for the moment.   may you all have my good luck!

I got my first joke at four ,folks were,laughting at an old man for being set in his ways,and not keeping an open mind,,I've persued humor thustly ,since,,,so you see I'm not an artist,but a humorist,,,with an open mind.and a lust for finger joy,musically.

C o m p o s i t i o n

So if I'm right ,in this observation of musical assembly techniques,,any figuar may be used repeticiously "Twice" and / or ecoed in the bass or other insterments,,"Twice",,more than that might be "boring",,,bad form,perhaps,,

moving on to another figuar,harmonically interactive perhaps,,or use the minor,of the figuar,,,and repete the above,,,

then folding these two together harmonically,,with solos for some,,will give way more possibilities,than necessary to construct a "Long" piece of music,,,the addition of a "Liet Motief" possibily from the minor section above,,will give us an "INTRO",,and an idea of the grand finali,,,you have in mind.

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Silence/Arrogance

Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation. Tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing, whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego. -Jean Arp, artist and poet (16 Sep 1887-1948)

This has been on-going ,for some time,,,sound ,,man(and woman),,,bolster his ego,,,it seems too simple,toss it off as a glittering generality,,,need for arrogance,,,,,

     "AQUIREING    ARROGANCE"

In my case,,,a need to sing,brought it on,,,its just an other meaningless costumn some of us wear,,,a prop if you will,to help put the song across,,for instance,a small distaste for old habits,,promotes re-invention,,of anything,personality's,left hand / right hand domance,dance steps,arrangements,etc.etc. and for me the delight of surprize when two voices harmonize with elegant timber,,is way too much for my tiny brain to handle,,,on almost a socio-pathic level,I have a relationship,with vocal harmonies,,this begets love of color,,/frequency   color ,,PAINTING,,,Omg,,,arrangement study (what you choose to play,or draw ,and how you choose to play it !) timing and space considerations,,this begets a gravating toward sculpture,,Subtractive,as in "to hew"

in the end Arrogance is all thats left for the soul to shoe itself,,,,,

Generally this much self involvement is,,, boreing,because we all artists,in a very real sence.Thankfully,,,not ALL of us are so totally self involved,,still those who get caught up in it, (ART),,,should be studied,incase some discovery that relates to us all,has arrived,,,,,,,!

"Maybe all hand work is art on some level",,,something as simple as a rythmic beat,or which root,when chewed,cleans the blood,,or how to energise water,,,,self involved folks may have secrets to share,,never mind the boreing arrogance we must put up with,,its really the only redemption,for those who call themselves "artists" as a group,they are mostly happy to share,but,please, help them pay the rent,,,,!

got to keep them honest,,,,,,!

Lovely is lovely,,so if your short on that,buy some art,or publish someone you feel an afinity with thru your eyes or ears,,,,SONG is breath,,proof of life,,,

Endgame Love,,on a stick,,try it you'll like it,,,,,I'm betting on it,,,like Van (the man) sez: "when push comes to shove,thank God for self love ! "

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