Strange obsession (for me, anyway).

I'm not a religious person. Maybe there is a god. Or there are gods. Whatever. The thing is there would be no way a human could understand him/her/them. That's why I don't want someone claiming they know the mind of god and telling me how I should live. Jeez, I could get riled up and go off on 6 different tangents here and lose track of what I originally wanted to say.
I love religious iconography. Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, tribal - this stuff is fascinating. And often gorgeous.
Of the Christian variety, I love the stuff from the middle ages and the Renaissance. I often buy bits like this plaque at flea markets and junk stores.
But, like I said, I'm not a religious person. I don't even play one on TV.

 

Reasons/Excuses/Circumstances.

I haven't been checking in much lately for a variety of reasons. I have a relative staying with me, for one thing. This has definitely put restrictions on my lifestyle. Like right now: I'm trying to compose a sentence and he is sitting in my seat in the living room watching a football game on TV. How long will this go on? These games are pretty long, right? Am I going to be able to watch the Simpsons? I hate football.
I can't concentrate on writing and I've been exiled, in my own home, to my bedroom. I usually cook something good on Sunday afternoons and watch a movie. I'm a creature of habit. I don't like change.
Another reason I haven't been contributing to the blog is that I've been editing (re-re-re-editing) my little book. It's called "Theme Furor." Also, I've been shooting footage for the film, "Mortal." I thank my friend Chuck for assisting me with those 2 projects.
I need to get out tomorrow and do some serious job searching. God, I hate being unemployed. That's another thing, I'm depressed about my circumstances and don't feel as if I should keep harping about it every time I write. It's hard, though. It just comes out.
Here's to being positive!

Praying for Spring.

I am so sick of this cold weather. It's been positively frigid almost every day since I lost my job. Couple that with the fact that I've been home a lot more and it makes for outrageous heating bills. My poor electric space heaters have been running almost non-stop for a over a month.
My house is so old and in such dis-repair that it never really warms up. There is absolutely no insulation - in fact, there are big holes everywhere. I've tried to patch what I can, but with the cold, the short days, my depression and lack of income, I haven't gotten much done.
I'm praying for Spring. I don't know what's going to happen to me, but I can handle life a little better when it's warm.

"Just Kids"

My friend Josh (hi, Josh) thoughtfully gave me a gift card to Barnes and Noble for Christmas (thanks, Josh). I knew immediately what book I wanted.
I bought Patti Smith's "Just Kids" yesterday and read it last night. I couldn't stop reading, even when it became very late and my eyes were sore.
Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about Patti, Robert, Max's Kansas City, CBGB, the Warhol crowd and the whole New York City scene in the 70s. Patti was in the middle of all that, plus a whole lot more.
I wonder how this National Book Award winning book would be received by someone unfamiliar with the terrain. I don't know. Me? I LOVED IT!
If you care at all about art, music and poetry, do yourself a favor and dive in.
I love you, Patti. You did good. Real good.
(Patti's still on my list of people I wish I could meet.)

 

"Mortal."

New working title for film.

The Language of Enthusiasm.

My life keeps getting more and more strange and dreamlike, yet I don't feel as if I have anything to say. Or, maybe I just lack the necessary impetus to comment on it. I think one often needs some external propulsion. A kick in the ass.
I don't feel like being kicked in the ass right now. Really, I don't.
Something will happen. It always does. And if it doesn't, we'll just close that book and start another. Maybe one that's beautifully leather bound, with ornate gold embossing. One with the right amount of heft and the perfect aroma of ink and yellowed paper.
If that's not the language of enthusiasm, I don't know what is.

Goodbye Gerry Rafferty.

I'm very sad to learn of the death of the great Scottish singer/songwriter Gerry Rafferty. Most people probably know him from "Stuck in the Middle with You" (with Stealers Wheel) or "Baker Street." I love his songs, his sweet, burnished voice and the incredibly lush production on his albums.
Gerry was 63 years old. He died peacefully in bed, after a long illness.

Guitar painting by John Patrick Byrne, who also beautifully painted several of Gerry's album covers.

 

Film update.

I think I'm changing the title of the film. I'm worried that people might find "The Exquisite Horror of Being" to be a tad depressing. And, it occurs to me that it's very similar to "The Unbearable Lightness of Being." I may just go with my original expression, "The Horror of Being," which, of course, would be even more of a downer for most people.
People? What people? Whose opinion am I worried about? It may be my legacy (such as it is), but it will only be a tiny, unseen movie. I should call it "The Legend of Glixnerd and His Wiley Glab-Trappics!"

TEHOB update.

I'm keeping a notebook of bits I want to voice-over in my film. As I progress, I'll figure out where the incidental music will go. I'd like to use an instrumental I have called "Spent," although I might like to re-record it, acoustically. Maybe use my song "Bad Day." I dunno yet. It might just be an ambient noise soundtrack.
The footage from last night looks pretty good. I'm glad I shot it yesterday when it wasn't so cold. The beach, at night, in winter, isn't the most hospitable filming scenario. Last night wasn't bad, though. I love the beach at night. It's raw magic.

TEHOB update.

I just got back from shooting some footage at the beach. It was about 6 pm when I made it down there and it was cloudy and dark. Cloudy and dark was kinda what I was going for. I only hope it turns out well (I haven't viewed it yet). I think I got some good stuff. I feel like I'm making some progress.

New working title for film: The Exquisite Horror of Being.

Let's go with that for now.
I coined the term "the horror of being" many years ago, to express what I was feeling then. I still feel like that, but everything is tinged with a bittersweetness now.
The title may change, but, as of today, I'm digging it.

New Year traditions.

I've just put on a HUGE pot of black eyed peas. I'll be eating them all week, probably. At least until I can no longer abide them. Now I need to put a dime on the window sill. I've been doing that forever and it never works, but now I think I know why.
A friend of mine told me, years ago, that it's good luck if you find a dime and give it to someone. Good luck for you both. Now, the way I look at it, if the dime was found on heads, good luck. If it was then given to you, double the luck. If you put that dime in a pot of black eyed peas, triple good luck. And if you take that dime out, after you've eaten the peas (be careful not to eat the dime) and put that dime on your window sill, that's QUADRUPLE good luck!
Oh, the dime has to go on the outside of the window, to bring money into the house. I think that's what I've been doing wrong. Put it on the inside and money will go out of the house.

Happy New Year!

It's just a little over 2 hours 'til 2011.
2011!
As usual (at least for the last 5 years), I'm at home, alone, waiting for ABC to drag out poor old Dick Clark (well, old, anyway) and drop the ball in Times Square. Or, I guess I could watch Andy Cohen's Wig Drop, over at Bravo. ("You DON'T want to be tardy for THIS party!")
Anyway, the point is I'm alone. On New Year's Eve. Once again. Period.
Happy New Year, everyone. Please be careful out there.

Working Title.

I told my friend Chuck that I wanted to make a film. Being the great guy he is, he loaned me a camera! Today was a nice warm day, for a change, so I went out and shot some footage. I think I got some pretty good stuff.
I had originally wanted to keep similar subject matter on individual tapes, to make editing easier. I can see now that that's not going to work. I just need to label the tapes and have a list of what's on there, in order of shooting (if at all possible).
I'll keep the blog apprised of my progress.
For now, it's just called "Working Title."

GLOW-RAY, son of SYMBOLS.

Another Western Steer restaurant ticket doodle, from the late 80s. It has the inscription, "ART EES WOT U WONT IT TOO BEE" from my little book, "Theme Furor."

 

Western Steer restaurant ticket doodle. Late 80s.

 

Almost 2011.

I'm still reeling from all that has happened to me in the last few months. I'm sure some people think I should just get over it, but I've got some deep emotional wreckage to dig through - not to mention the practical concerns of health AND employment in this crazy economy. Given a similar situation, I'd like to see THEIR recovery efforts! To anyone who doesn't understand, know this: I'm doing the best I can - even though my best may not seem very good at all, to an outside party.
The day after tomorrow will be 2011! I'm going to formulate some sort of plan for the new year. Not so much a resolution. More like a map. I've got some big decisions to make. I may have to take some perilous risks.
I'm sure Woody Allen was being facetious when he said, "Change is death." But, when you've experienced a shit-storm of tribulation, you will gladly take change, no matter what it means.
(He also said you have to keep moving, like a shark...)

The trouble with Pigs in Blankets. A dream.

I was riding in a car with Dr. McCoy, from "Star Trek." He started thinking that he would like some fig newtons, so we stopped at a convenience store. Well, to borrow a phrase from comedian Jerry Clower, Bones had done flung a craving on me. I told him that I would like some, too. We went in, bought our boxes of fig newtons and got back on the road. When we reached our destination, which was where McCoy worked - a convenience store, no less - I pulled my box out of my bag and opened it up. It wasn't fig newtons at all, but pigs in blankets! You know, the kind you make with wieners and store bought biscuits. Only they hadn't used wieners. They had used Vienna sausages. And they were really erratic - some were mostly blanket, while some pigs looked downright chilly, having nearly no blanket at all. I showed all of this to Bones. He said, yeah that happens sometimes, but it's ok, they charged you the same as me (as if that made it alright somehow).
At about that point, the alien dignitaries arrived.

Wasting time in high school typing class (mid 70s).

 

"Mythology" (from 1982).