Monday, July 23, 2018

WEEKEND JOURNEY

Before the Storm Breaks
Walking in my Neighborhood Saturday

Epiphany Church Garden
Stone Saints Maintain Holy Silence
Trembling Trees
Blooms Below Ground
 Opportunist

~*~

I wrote to a friend about the Gallery opening and reading Friday:
"I was in a strange place last night-both foggy and focused throughout the event-I read well and the work drew special attention after from friends and strangers who praised it. The fogginess hadn't cleared as I wandered home with friend Wendy who decided to accompany me. I was removed the whole time and when I arrived at 21st Street, lay down immediately fully dressed and fell into deep sleep. When I woke a few hours later, I realized that the drawing and the writing had been my main occupation for many weeks and that I was in mourning. Mourning for the family that is no more, the drawing that needs nothing more, and the writing that is done and also gone."
My Art and Text
 http://mscomfortzone.blogspot.com/2018/07/why-make-art.html

We are strange creatures,
we who share our lives and feelings out loud.
 ~*~

Midnight Storm
SUNDAY FACE BOOK FAST BEGINS.
~*~

Look over yonder, Apollo at a distance
You can hear his music if you listen to the wind (blow)
I want to be there, I want to be right there
Bear witness, I'm wailing like the wind
Come bear witness, the half-breed rides again
In these hands, I've held the broken dream
In my soul, I'm howling at the moon
Testimony, testimony
Declare yourself, I will testify
Testimony, testimony
Speak the truth, I will testify
I had a revelation like runaway horses
Took to the road with a carnival show (roll on)
Those golden days on Smokey Mountain
Playing guitar in a one man band
Bear witness, I'm howling at the moon
Come bear witness, I've danced among the ruins
In these shoes, I've walked a crooked mile
All my life I been searching for the nightbird
Testimony, testimony
Are you ready to take the heat
Are you ready to blow the steam
Are you ready to bag the street
You got nothing to lose, but your chains
For forty days and forty nights
I come across the desert
Apollo right by my side (rave on)
Bear witness, I'm wailing like the wind
Come bear witness, the half-breed rides again
In these hands, I've held the broken dream
In my soul, I'm howling at the moon
Testimony, testimony
Declare yourself, I will testify
Testimony, testimony
Speak the truth, I will testify
"In his big and buoyant new memoir, "Testimony," Robertson, who is seventy-three, doesn't necessarily dispel the various myths, legends, and criticisms that have attached themselves to him. Instead, he tries to reframe the conclusions that fans might take from them. For the most part, he downplays his own musical accomplishments—he seems O.K. not being called a genius—and portrays his life as one of a man who was in the right places at the right times."
-Read the whole New Yorker review in Links-
https://youtu.be/U3awYDKUuwI

Morning

 Afternoon



Whether drifting through life on a boat or 

climbing toward old age leading a horse, 

each day is a journey and the journey itself is home. 



-Basho-
~*~

LINKS
New Yorker Book Review
https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/robbie-robertson-offers-his-story-of-the-band

3 comments:

jude said...

And here we are and it keeps raining

Mo Crow said...

The Weight by The Band ...

grace Forrest~Maestas said...

being led by a Goat