Picture Perfect 79

Picture Perfect 79

As the picture of him with Timmy faded to montage of the other missing child there was a gentle guitar with an equally gentle fiddle mixed in with it by the last child. A song started ‘I never knew him

he was long gone/before I came along/they were all long/before I came along.’ The song faded out to him sitting on the front steps of the Wickham Arms.

“This is where that photograph was taken. Timmy sat right here beside me.” The camera moved to the empty space beside him, after a moment a ghostly image of Timothy Dunlop appeared sitting there.

“Holy shit!” Dan said to Peter. “That gave me goose bumps. I didn’t know they were going to do stuff like this. I like the show even more now!”

The image faded away and Dan on TV continued. “Before I tell you what we’re doing let’s go back to the Canada Cold episode where I saw this image.”

The screen faded & the episode of Canada Cold began.

He pressed the record button on the remote & turned the TV off.

“You not interested?” Peter said.

“I’ve seen it.” Dan laughed lightly. 

“Well, I haven’t.” Peter turned the TV back on and put the remote behind his back.

“I had a repeat of something else in mind.” Dan kissed Peter & tried to get at the remote.

“No, you don’t.” Peter tried to squirm away.

“No, you don’t, SIR.” Dan forced the arm Peter was holding the remote from behind his back.

“Sorry, sir.” Peter relinquished the remote.

“That’s more like it.” Holding Peter’s gaze Dan realized his feelings for Peter were more than fuck buddy friendly. The young man wasn’t just a convenient house sitter but someone he looked forward to being with when he was in Toronto.

“Would you like to live here?”

“I am now, aren’t I.”

“I mean not as a house-sitter but as …”

“Your boyfriend!” Peter stood up wide-eyed. “I … I’d have to talk it over with my dad. He counts me, you know. Are you serious? I was, well, I was sure this was just …uh … something fun for a couple of months.”

“So did I but …”

“Okay. I’ll do it. Wait …” He sat again. “Are you trying to distract from the TV?”

“No!” Dan turned the TV back on.

“Sir. I don’t think I can concentrate on it anymore. I’m going to take a cold shower.”

“I’ll join you.”

After their shower Dan went to the TV & zipped through the Canada cCold broadcast to the credits at the end to see who was mentioned in them. He was disappointed not to see Jackson Meade acknowledged but there was thanks to The Atlantic Sentinel for their assistance. 

When ‘I never knew him he was long gone’ started up again Dan almost turned the TV but Kevin McLeod’s face loomed at the camera. 

“Stayed tuned at 9 for our live broadcast & to find out how Sally Sewell & yours truly wrote ‘Long Gone’ which not only won a Juno & a Grammy & is now the theme for Maritime Mysteries.”

“It’s almost 9! We have to see this, sir.” Peter said. “Please.”

“Kevin McLeod! Well, I’ll be.” Dan said.

“You know Kevin?”

“I worked on a couple of his videos. Post production stuff mostly. Some green screen. We almost did his wedding shoot at Pride this past summer but his label insisted on some big name rock photographer.”

“You sound more relieved than disappointed.”

“Let’s just say I’m not the Pride type. Too much hype & not enough shade.” Dan turned the pvr off & switched back to the actual broadcast. 

‘Behind the Mystery’ flickered across the screen ‘with John Kilpatrick’ underneath it.

“John Kilpatrick here live at Cora’s Place in Stellerton, Nova Scotia with Kevin McLeod & Sally Swell.”

John was sitting at a table, over his shoulder was Kevin & Sally on stage performing ‘Long Gone.’ Kevin playing an acoustic guitar & Sally a fiddle accompanied by a guy tapping a sort of handheld drum.

“What’s he playing?” Peter asked.

Dan consulted his phone. “I think it’s called a bodhram.”

“Thank you, sir.”

When they finished the song Kevin & Sally put their instruments down & came over the table to join John.

“First let me congratulate both of you on your Juno & Grammy wins.”

“Thanks John.” Kevin said. “It’s always great to get that sort of recognition. Just don’t call me this generation’s Bryan Adams.”

“Truly.” Sally said. “I’m definitely not the reincarnation of Anne Murray either. For one thing she’s still alive. Right?”

“You should know, Sally. You lured her back into the studio for a duet on your album.” John said holding up the CD case of the album. “So tell me how did you two come to write this song about David McPherson?”

“I was looking to do something outside of my usual hard rock box.” Kevin said. “I knew Sally was doing an lp of duets & I thought it was time to get back to my Celtic roots.’”

“I had the idea for the song last year. Before I knew anything about the cold case show.” Sally explained. “David was a decade before I was born so I didn’t really know much about him other than he sort of disappeared one day. My Gran used to scare us into being good & staying close to the house by warning us about how this kid went out to play one day & never came back.”

“Did she say what happened to him?” John asked.

“No. As I got older I didn’t really believe her, you know, I thought it was just some made up ghost story to keep us kids quiet. Once when I teased her about making it up she did say something about the Snake Man would get my tongue.”

“Snake Man!” Kevin laughed. “You never told me that when we were working on the song.”

“Did you know anything about David McPherson when you were still living on the east coast?” John asked.

“Not really. I was so wrapped up with being queer that I didn’t pay any attention to the news.”

Dan grabbed his note pad & scribbled down ‘snake man.’ As he wrote it got goosebumps.

“Something important?” Peter asked.

“I’m not sure. I just hope John has enough sense to follow up on snake man.”

When he saw that the interview was about their up-coming tour he became impatient.

“I think it’s time for you to treat us to another number.” John said.

As the camera followed them to the stage Dan saw that Stephanie Carter was at one of the tables. He got his Quintex phone & texted her. “We must talk. ASAP.”

A few moments later she replied. “Can’t it wait until this is over?”

“No! Get John to follow up on snake man.”

He saw her go over the table & kneel beside John who shook his head.

“He says to tell that asshole this is his interview.”

The song was over. Stephanie stood & walked over to Sally. The cell Dan was holding buzzed.

“Hello.” He answered.

On the screen Stephanie was handing her phone to Sally.

“There’s an important call for you Sally.”

Sally looked confused for a moment & took the phone.

“If you want this to go live on air press star three times.” Stephanie said.

She did. “Hello? Sally Sewell here.”

“Hi Sally this is Dan James chief investigator for Maritime Mystery.”

“Oh!”

“Sorry to interrupt like this but something you said might be of some importance to the case. What can you tell us about snake man?”

“The snake man?” Sally gave a nervous laugh. “As best as I remember there was this old creepy guy who came around various farms to buy rabbits, piglets & the like to feed his snakes?”

“His snakes?” Dan asked.

“There was some snake museum for the tourists I guess & the snakes liked live … Oh God this sounds horrible. I never gave it much thought.”

“Thanks, Sally, You’ve told me enough, our team can take it from there. Back to you John.” He clicked his phone off.

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Picture Perfect 78

Picture Perfect 78

Dan filled Peter in on recent developments with the show as they drove into Toronto.

“This Meade sounds like a real character.”

“Oh yeah. But he didn’t really have much new to offer, which suits everyone fine. I mean they want to spin things out by stretching what little hard information we have.”

“Speaking of hard information, sir.” Peter’s hand dropped to Dan’s thigh.

“Keep your eye on the road & both hands on the wheel.” Dan was tempted to move Peter’s but didn’t. “So no real developments since we did that video call earlier this week.”

“What’s next?”

“We move along to the Cape. Unless some new leads come our way over the next couple of days then we’ll stick to our basecamp.”

Once in his house Dan felt himself began to relax. “It’s great not to have to worry facing that crew for a couple of days.” He looked around. “ I spent the afternoon shooting some of those talking head bridges as I walked around Stellerton. You know I’ve never thought about how they do those things. I always figured there were done in chronological order. It feels strange not to have Cameron following me with his camera. ”

“I’m sure it does, sir.” Dan said as he pulled his tee-shirt off. “If he was, I wouldn’t be able to do this would I, sir.”

“Peter, if he were here you would be doing it even faster.” He took Peter by the waist of his jeans & pulled him tight. “No c2c is as good as the real thing.” 

Dan undid his own jeans, turned Peter around & shoved his jeans down to his knees. Peter leaned forward & braced himself again the kitchen counter. 

Dan’s erection teased along Peter’s ass crack & then he pushed the head of it up into Peter, then slowly pulled it out.

“Don’t stop, sir. Please.”

Holding his jeans up with one hand Dan slapped Peter’s ass with the other.

“Shower first.”

“Okay, sir.”

<>

Saturday was an exhausting day as Dan went from an hour at the Depot, a visit to the Carafe & to a two hour Lifend demonstration at the FairVista. Linda, to his relief, was personally supervising a wedding shoot in the ritzy Bridal Path part of city. After the demo he met with a representative from Dell and Strong to get an update on the changes in the James Corporation structure. His prime concern was that Linda would have no legal sway over the Depot. It made him long to be back in Toronto dealing with the business he was comfortable with not with Baxter’s moods & broken-hearted parents looking for answers.

He was driving back when he got a text marked urgent from Baxter. 

“Tune in to the launch of QTel tonight at 8.”

QTel? What the fuck was Baxter up to now? When he parked in his garage he sat in the car & did a quick search for QTel Launch. 

QTel was Quintex’s newly created pay channel. It was to be devoted to various investigative crime & supernatural phenomena reality documentaries. He saw that his show was now called The Maritime Mystery. So that’s what they do at the production end of things. There were at least two other Quintex original series coming soon plus repeats of all their shows. The package would include similar shows from Australia, Great Britain, India & even China. Many of which, the release promised, had never been shown in North America.

Now he understood why Baxter was pushing them to stay focused despite the obstacles they’d faced so far. There was no time for Baxter to waste to recover from his injuries, even less for him to grieve the death of Roberto. No wonder Baxter resented Dan taking these pauses to attend his ‘real’ life.

In the house he was distorted by the quiet. He was actually alone. No Peter. No Sanjay. No pressure to research anything, or be anywhere. He went up to his bedroom & the bed was still unmade. Even though there was no hotel staff ticking it in, no fresh towels folded tidily in the bathroom he didn’t feel quite at home. 

He down to his study & turned his computer on for first time since he’d returned. The only site he’d neglected while away was the V-Files. There’d been no opportunity for him create new material for his site there. As he scrolled through the newest additions, even clicking on a couple that mildly peaked his interest he wasn’t into it. The hits on his posts had declined since over the past month as well. No new posts meant no new hits. But he was still getting ‘like’ & there was money in his tip jar with requests to post more.

He heard the front door open.

“Horney I’m home.”

It was Peter.

Dan shut down his computer & went to greet Peter with a hug & long kiss.

“Oh sir, I could get used to this.” Peter said leaning into Dan. “What’s on the menu tonight.”

“It’ll be the Tasty Tai.” Dan said. “It should here by the time we’ve showered off the the day. Can’t have you smelling like an espresso all night.”

<>

As Peter was drying Dan’s feet the doorbell rang.

“Good timing, sir.”

“Perfect in fact. I have a little surprise for you. I’ll get the food, you get dishes & we’ll meet in front of the TV.”

As they piled food on their plates Dan remembered how this had all started with him in front of the TV & being stunned to see that childhood picture of himself & Timmy Dunlop several months ago. Months that felt like years. He tuned into the channel at 7:55. There was a digital clock countdown under rippling colour graphic that said ‘QTel Canada’s newest TV channel will be unveiled in 4:55, 4:54 – minutes.

You can also watch us on line at Qtel.TevTec.TV.’

At exactly 8 the screen went to a deep blue then Jeremy Moxham appeared. He was walking though a busy television studio. Various cameras swivelling to follow him so that he appeared in images shot from cellphones, surveillance cameras, hand-held, night-vision & even a heat-sensor camera. 

“Good evening Canada. Welcome to my latest adventure. QTel a channel devoted to challenging, entertaining, no-holds barred crime investigations, as well as the latest developments in psychic research. Things that I have always been interested in even when I was on the ice.”

There was a brief montage of Jeremy scoring goals, swinging a bat, doing a dive, two-man luge & playing golf.

“He didn’t have time for curling?” Peter said.

“Tonight I’m going to give you a taste of what we have in store for you from around the world & some of our original Canadian productions.”

There was montage of show titles starting with Canada Cold, Maritime Mysteries.”

“Hey that’s you!” Peter said.

“At least it’s my good side.” The brief clip had Dan adjusting his electronic loupe to study a photograph.

Then titles of at least another dozen different show some of which Dan easily understood – Outback Oddities, Creepy Castles, Interpol Exposed.

“How did they miss Scooby-Do?” Peter laughed. “Or Ghostbusters.”

The screen faded to a voice pattern display.

“Hello. This is Daniel James. I am the other boy in the photograph of Timothy Dunlop. Please contact me …” The display faded to the picture of of him & Timmy.

Dan was startled to hear his voice. 

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How Dare She

How Dare She

the outrage

at her success

was matched by the publicity

the outrage

brought her success

 

how dare she

a woman

write like a man

how dare she 

use men

the way men used women

 

the obscenity 

of carnality on stage

was too much 

for the male powers that be

when she wouldn’t back down

they shut her down

sent her to prison

sentenced her to becoming

the top box office draw of the decade

despite being a woman

 

her success

didn’t silence her censors

it only made them more eager

avid

to teach her a lesson

to be obedient

to shut her mouth

watch her words

or they would snip the words

so only the censors heard them

 

so she

took her money to the bank

& bid the public

good bye

 

how dare she
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Picture Perfect 21

Riding his bike to work Dan was surprised that over the past four days he didn’t mind Sanjay sleeping in the guest room. Having his bed to himself was a pleasant change. No worries about waking Sanjay when he had to go to the can in the night. Not having to pry his arm out from under another body.

The hard part was to not say anything about it. He wrote conversations in his head in which he talked Sanjay into accepting his apology but he didn’t want to have to talk Sanjay into anything. He knew it wouldn’t go on much longer. At least they were warmly civil with each other rather than cold and snarky.

He kept himself in check to avoid saying things that were bitter or hurtful just to teach Sanjay a lesson. So by Thursday Dan was relived to sense a bit of a thaw in things between them.

Though he hadn’t heard anything from Baxter he had been doing his own research on the missing children. He’d printed out articles from newspaper on-line archives. He tapped into school records when he could find them. Some school districts had began to scan and upload class pictures.

Too bad his Dad had cleared out most of the work he had done of that nature. They’d only kept his and Linda school shots. Looking at a couple of those he couldn’t recall the name of a single person in some of them. Not even of the teachers he had had. Much of that memory had been washed away with getting settled in Toronto. The few names he did remember he couldn’t put to faces.

He’d made a more through search of the store’s archives and found a few more old family movies and another file of saucy pictures. What would his mother know about these?

The second set showed the woman’s face in one shot. As is the others her back was mostly to the camera or in profile. In the few full frontals she held her splayed, black gloved, fingers over her face just showing her eyes or mouth in come hither poses. In these she was alone.

They started with the woman dressed in garters, nylons, panties, bra and heels; in each she wore one less garment; by the last one she was nude, spread eagle on a bed – a beaver shot but always wearing heels. He was happy to be spared her dirty feet.

The series started on the studio set but the last few were in a bedroom somewhere. It wasn’t any of the ones in their house, so maybe they took the shoot to a motel. The under lit room had that impersonal look.

There were twenty-two pictures in this set. If it was from a standard roll of 24 that meant there were two missing, maybe a couple that didn’t turn out. The sequence of poses were random enough that he couldn’t guess where the two missing shots might have been.

The body itself was in good shape. He’d guess mid-20’s from the face. But that was hard to tell with the make up the model was wearing. It reminded him of Liz Taylor in Cleopatra – accented eyes and the hair cut square across the eyebrows. No, it was definitely the Betty Page look.

He locked his bike and went into the store.

“Morning, boss man.” Sandy greeted him.

“Morning it is.” He looked at mail by the register. “Paper catalogues! What a novel idea.”

He thumbed through the catalogues. Cameras, camera bags, pants with loads of pockets perfect for any camera man.

“Get a load of these.” He showed the pants to Ushio. “Imagine the clinking sound you’d make with all those pockets filled.”

“How would you keep them up?” Ushio said. “You could never sit down either. You’d have lenses up the butt.”

“Now there’s a camera you need to design.” Sandy said. “The butt cam,”

“It would take shitty pictures.” Ushio laughed.

“The rect-a-cam recked him.” Dan couldn’t stop laughing.

“That asshole sure can take great pictures.” Sandy was gasping for air.

“There was a tripod here a minute ago.” Ushio held his stomach.

“What’s this, Candid Camera?”

Dan caught his breath. It was Stephanie Carter from Quintex. With her was John Kilpatrick, the Unsolved host; a camera woman and a lighting man.

“No. No. Just some crappy camera humour.” Dan said.

This sent Ushio and Sandy into a fit of giggles.

“What brings you and your crew here. Running out of batteries?”

“Didn’t Cyrtys tell you we were coming to interview you?” She said.

“Hi.” John reached out and shook his hand. “I’ll be conducting the interview. This is Francie and Mike.” He introduced the crew.

Dan was a bit confused. He thought Kilpatrick was moving on to another project.

“Uh … Okay. Here?”

“We can start here then move it somewhere more private.” John said looking to Stephanie.

“Cyrtys did tell you we were coming.” Stephanie asked Dan. “That’d I’d be directing the interview?”

“I haven’t heard from him since last week. Unless he sent an email.”

“Nah. The fucker.” Stephanie said. “Just like him. You’re cool with this?”

“This is a work day. How long will it take?” Dan asked.

“Two hours max.” John said. “I’ve done enough of these by now.”

“You’ll have to sign this release before we start though.” Stephanie took out two page form from her briefcase. “Standard stuff.”

“Look, I’m not signing anything without looking it over first. I know copyright law and intellectual property rights. That’s why I don’t do Facebook and the like.”

“What!” Stephanie exclaimed. “I drag a crew here, paying for their time, and now you balk because of intellectual property rights?” She took a deep breath. “We will only talk about Timmy Dunlop. That’s it. We won’t ask about your investigative process but we will certainly make that known as well. It adds to your credibility.”

Sandy looked over the release form. “It is standard stuff, boss, but gives Quintet permission to use the footage in any of their shows not just Unsolved Cold. No mention of payment for other such usage.”

“Think of it as exposure for your business.”

“My business doesn’t need the exposure. Besides you aren’t interviewing me as owner of James Family Photographers are you. That guy only sells cameras. You want to talk to me because of supposed creditability, right.”

“This is more trouble that it’s worth, Steph.” The camera woman said. She and the sound man gathered their equipment and began to leave.

“I’d say do it bossman.”

“Here’s the deal then.” Dan said. “My rate is two-hundred and fifty an hour.”

“Two-fifty!” John exclaimed. “Who you think you are?”

“Someone you want to talk to for starters. That’s what I change any client for my time, materials are extra.”

“What if we don’t get anything we can use?”

“That could happen with anyone you get a release form from right.”

“Right. So where do we go with this next.”

“Start where you were going to start. We got this all on tape anyway. You are agreeing, right.”

“Yes, I, Stephanie Carter on behalf of Quintex Productions agree. Now let’s get to it. We’ve wasted enough time. Your time begins now I presume and not from when we walked in the door.”

“Yes.” Dan looked to John. “What would you like to know?”

“We’re here at the James Photo Depot talking with owner Daniel James.” John read from a script. “Daniel is a photographic forensics expert who has a special interest in the Missing East Coast case. Tell us about your connection to the case.”

“I was watching the episode of Unsolved Cold and recognized the picture of Timmy Dunlop.”

“Recognized it how?” John asked.

“I was in the picture with him. It was a photograph my father took.”

“Stop.” Stephanie said. “Do we have a copy of the picture here? Did you bring one?” She asked Mike as she rooted in her brief case.

“I have the originals upstairs in my office.”

“Excellent.” Stephanie said. “Go up. John you keep talking and Francie you go ahead.

“Look we’re not insured for falling camera people.” Dan said.

“Understood.” Francie said.

They started walking with the crew in front backing up carefully.

“Daniel.” John began. “You’ve become a go to person for the RCMP when it comes to photographic evidence.”

“Go-to? I’m not sure about that but yes, I have assisted on several cases for them.”

“Most recently it was a child porn case.”

“Yes.” Daniel pushed past Francie to open his office door. “I developed soft wear that refines elements in an image for greater clarity and identification. Using it we were able to narrow down the location of some of the photographs that had been circulated.”

John glanced his notes as Daniel got the Timmy photos out of his file.

“Let’s stop here. Everything will be sorted out in editing anyway.” Stephanie said. “Off the record can you tell us how that was done.”

“That info was all in the newspaper. In several of the pictures I saw a similar bedspread but in different room layouts. I isolated that image. That lead us to the manufacturer, to the buyer and ultimately to him.”

“So part of what you do is find details in photographs that the average person might not pick up on.” John asked.

“Yes.”

“Care to demonstrate that for the camera?” Stephanie asked. “It might come in use at some point. I have a feeling.”

“Well, Okay.” Dan agreed.

“We’re here in the office of Daniel James.” John started with the camera on him. 

The camera panned to him. Then to the arm-in -arm photo of him and Timmy that he had put on the table.

“What can you tell us about this picture?” John asked.

“Oh, this is stupid.” Dan said. “I know too much about this picture as it is. I can’t pretend to find things out like that. Besides there wasn’t anything in this picture.”

“Stop.” said Stephanie. “Try a couple of these.” She pulled some photos from her brief case and put them out he table. “Rolling.”

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Wrestling With Connection

Week 7 on The Artist’s Way is about connection to creativity – as opposed to our connection with others. One of things that hampers that creative connection is perfectionism. I have a writing friend who has been perfecting the same thirty page opening to his novel for some ten years now. It has to be perfect so he can send it to an agent etc. He no longer asks me for advice 🙂 I stopped that by telling him it would cost $100 an hour for a minimum of three hours before I would be willing to look at his work-in-progress.

There is a section on risk – the willingness to try & not succeed as we envisioned. For me this is part of the process of letting go of expectations, of control. In recovery they say you plan the plans but the results are in the universe’s hands. I’ve painted rooms one colour only to have the paint dry in a different one 🙂

As with the Ways chapters so far there some sifting through the past for missed opportunities & for good turning points. In my covid house-cleaning frenzy I’ve unearthed old note books, old rough drafts, old photographs. Those photos reconnected me with where I was in my early 20’s, long before I moved to Toronto. I’ve also been reading Old Trout Funnies – an excellent book about a comic book series by Paul  ‘Moose’ MacKinnon that was first issued while I was living in Cape Breton. (https://www.facebook.com/OldTroutFunnies).

Moose was one of my drinking crowd & he included real people (some of whom I knew) in the comics & calendars. In one issue there is even a plug (page 70) for my poetry book ‘Distant Music’ which had been published at the time. So there was actual creative support for me in that community at that time.

 

One of the tasks was to wear a favourite item of clothing for no special reason. All my clothes are favourites, so what I did was to pick some things I rarely wear but save for intimate encounters 🙂 Namely some wrestling singlets & some revealing undies I bought a few years ago. Very snug but also very sexy. Photos “fansonly” 🙂

My Underwear

it seems the best way 

to put out the fire

in your heart

was to run over to a bar

drink till there was 

only a stumble of drunks 

to deal with

there was no way out of it

except to break the windows

push your grandma down the stairs

so what if there weren’t 

any stairs in our apartment

you still get the picture

 

yeah I know

drawing it in crayons

all over the hall to our place

wasn’t a great idea

but you have to admit

it caught the lighting of the fire

without using up all the reds

only the blues

the blues you give everyone

who is lucky enough

to catch you on your balcony

ready to jump

don’t do it

or if you have to 

wait till I get back with coffee

I have to be careful 

the contents may be hot

but wet will always 

put out the flame

it makes no difference to me 

what burns you out of my system

hot coffee or direct flame

 

maybe tossing all your undies 

in the shredder was a bit much

but it seems the only way 

to keep you out of them

to keep you fresh

ready and pliant

not that you wore them 

that often anyway

going commando

wasn’t a rare event

bare-assed at McDonalds

where did you park those buns

yeah not so funny

does it look like I’m laughing

all the way home

to the shadowed moment 

when there once was a dart of hope

now just a bunch 

of empty coat hangers

in a clump 

I can’t pull apart

hangers that once held

everything you ever wore

around the house

out in the street

 

yeah I’m a total liar

I never picked up a drink 

because of you

that isn’t going to happen

wasn’t even tempted

you took something out of my life 

but you left behind 

more that you took

I don’t need to breath 

it’s all up to you now

as if it alway wasn’t

 

I can’t get over

the number of times

I wanted to paint the hall way

that I wanted to use 

your tooth brush to clean 

the coffee machine

so I wouldn’t have to go out 

for a fresh cup to dump 

in your laugh

because I’m sure 

that behind closed eyes

you are smirking like a tried urinal

knowing that you pissed 

me off one too many times

 

you know

if you were here now

I’d probably take you back

but still wouldn’t trust you 

as far as you could throw 

my underwear

I do have a limited number of the original Distant Music chapbook for sale for $25.00 each (includes surface mail postage). Order via the paypal along with where to send it.

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Ravel, Tartini and Bach

Next on the classical shelf is a nearly 8 hour mp3 collection of work by Maurice Ravel (1875-1937), Giuseppe Tartini (1692 –1770) & soprano Amelita Galli-Curci (1882 –1963).

Ravel is best know for his Bolero & perhaps his Pavane for A Dead Princess But he did actually write more than that :-). His string quartet is often paired with Debussy’s string quartet which reflects the impressionist style that Ravel wrote in. I have the Bolero & Pavane in other collections. In this one I have the complete solo piano music & his piano Concertos, which includes the concerto for left hand written for a concert pianist who lost his right hand in the war.

The Bolero unwittingly set the template for much popular music. It starts with a single instrument & every 8 bars or so adds another layer or beat – which is how many jazz, pop arrangements are constructed. It’s almost mathematic in the progression & variations. Sadly Bolero itself is a piece of music I don’t care every to hear again though. The Pavane is elegant & so relaxing it frequently shows up in collections of the most relaxing music ever.

The solo piano is similar to Debussy but a bit more mathematical as opposed to impressionist. Dreamy, relaxing. I love the sonatas. The String Quartet is surprisingly sensuous as the strings wrap around each other & you.

I had one of Tartini’s violin concertos as lp to cd transfer but wanted a better quality, so picked up the Complete Violin concertos. Best known for the Devil’s Trill, these are great Baroque pieces full of trills &, I’ve been told, virtuoso challenges for violinists.

Also in this collection is Leopold Stokowski’s Bach Transcriptions which includes the Toccata & Fugue. The orchestral sound is lush, soothing & even spiritual at times. I love the toccata & this is one my favourite versions. Stokowski turns Baroque Bach into orchestral Beethoven. Stokowski is best known for his work on Walt Disney’s Fantasia – which is a movie that introduced many generations to the power of classical music & his orchestrations are the key to the success of the movie.

Finally in this collection is Amelita Galli-Curci. She was one of the most popular operatic singers of the 20th century. I’m not a big opera fan but this set of 1917-1928 recordings is one way of stretching my ears to music I’m not that familiar with. The sound quality is okay, as it is often is with these period recordings. I’m happy with these but don’t ask me to decide who is better her or Maria Callas 🙂

Ink

“Get your lazy ass over here! You hear me. Get that lazy ass of yours over here pronto!” Jen hung up the phone satisfied she had done all she had to do. 

It wouldn’t be her fault if Jim didn’t get there on time. No one could find fault with her. Unless it was because she had made the call. It wasn’t up to her to be anyone’s alarm clock but she didn’t want to see Jim get fired. 

Jim was told if he was late one more time that would be it. She didn’t really like Jim but was used to him. She didn’t want to have to learn how to put up with some other jerk off.

She went to the customer washroom. There was still time to check to make sure she looked okay. Her hair was not too wild but not too tame either. Her lip ring was healing. The redness gone. It didn’t distract too much from the eyebrow piercing or the shock of pink she’d had put in her hair for the week. Something  to change appearances around a little. The customers liked variation. Jim felt consistency was reassuring. He didn’t like change.

She could tell by the way his eyes sort of narrowed looking for a safe place on her face to look at. There were no safe places.

She glanced at her wrist watch. Hello Kitty’s face looked so snug strapped in the middle of her full sleeve, roses & koi tattoos. Expensive but not nearly as painful as the she had expected. Both arms. A girl never had to worry about what to wear with these. She held both arms out in front of her, turned them to enjoy the wrapping and overlapping vines, castles stars & comets that danced along and over her shoulders down her back. Sweet. Sweet Sweet. What would she get done next.

Jen went to the front of the shop. She didn’t want to open up till someone else was there. The design books were laid out, a sketched pad was by her station & she began working on the pirate ship she knew would look good on Jim. 

Yes today was the day he would get his lazy ass inked once and for all.
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Replace Me

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Replace Me

excuse me 

while I slip into something 

more comfortable

does this fit

does it look good on me

do I look sane in it

does it turn you on

do I look educated in this

does it suit the occasion

will it get me laid

can it open doors for me

will it need to be ironed

can I wear it in public

will it turn heads

does it make me look old

look desperate 

it comes in other colours

maybe a size larger

can it be replaced

can it replace me

does it make up for my lack of style

do I have the guts to wear it

does it wear me

will it last longer than a glance

is it why you want me

am I anything without it

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Nothing Doing

Get Off The Pot

there is a time & place

for everything

except this

because this a time for nothing

a time to do nothing

to save nothing

this isn’t that rainy day

this isn’t when

the cows come home

when the crows roost

so stop waiting

for those eggs to hatch

no matter what you have on your hands

this is not the time or place

to save stitches

to waste your breath

or make yet more excuses 

no more chances

there is no grace period 

it’s not now nor never

neither suits me fine

there is no better time

for doing nothing

Doing nothing is a difficult concept in a culture geared to productivity. Being idle is seen as a waste of time, or as being lazy. Time off time doesn’t really exist when one has laundry to do, a house to clean, a yard to rake, children to look after, pets to tend to, boxsets of hit TV shows to binge watch. When we are deprived of distractions we panic.

What do you do in your ‘spare time?’ Plan a vacation check flights & hotels so you can get away from your routine & do nothing? When you get there is a rush from museum to restaurant – hiking trails – or finding a quiet spot in a park & sitting there breathing 🙂 Doing nothing is hard work/

I have been trying to break some of my busy habits. One step was to stop carting my iPod around with me whenever I left the house. My life had a sound track that never seemed to stop. A sound track that became a buffer between me & what was actually around me. If I ran into friends while on my walk I would be miffed that I’d have to turn off my iPod to listen to them. Or think – don’t they see I’m busy listening.

I recently stopped reading when I take a pee – I didn’t want to piss away those previous moments when I could be reading a few pages of some vitally important book. Why not do one thing at time, right. Enjoy the flow of the moment 🙂

I am not yet at the point where I can do nothing though. The closest I get is on my walks but even those have extra layers: eyes opened for photos, mulling over blog posts, wondering what to cook for dinner on the weekend. I think one of the reasons for my routines is so I can think less. I essential know what I’m going to serve every day for dinner – variations on the same things. i.e. Monday is always rice with veggies, steamed cabbage & steamed salmon. Herbs & spices for the rice will change from week to week.

One of the Artist’s Way tasks was to listen to a side of an lp. To just listen to it without doing anything else. Sit there & do nothing but listen. Let the music be music not background, not inspiration, memory cue or even meditation. It was a challenge. Are you up to it?
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Top Ten Lists List

Have you seen this FB challenge: ten albums that changed/ influenced my life – actually you can remove ‘album’ & replace it with books, movies, poems, paintings, sex partners (for those of us who are willing to admit they’ve had enough sex partners to pick ten from) & finally: ten lists that have changed my life.

I’ve been tagged on some of these but never play along. It’s not that I don’t have favourites or that there aren’t things that have changed my life. I’m just sure what ‘changed my life’ means anyway. It’s not as if I can name a movie, book etc that turned me gay – there have been some that have confirmed that fact but none that are responsible.

Some things have unconsciously affected my tastes but this I only see in retrospect. Always wonder how, say, Hercules’s junk stayed under his tunic even when he was wrestling a lion – certainly had an affect 🙂 How it was that women would be naked for sex while the men often were fully clothed? No fly opens wide enough to actually fuck pleasurably. Stuff like that is where movies changed my life.

oh yes – 10 albums/musicians that influence my music tastes: 1. Stanley Black’s recording of Rhapsody in Blue; 2. Pizzicato 5; 3. Yes: Tales From Topographic Oceans; 3. John Coltrane: Blue Train & 4. A Love Divine; 5. Miles Davis: Kind of Blue, 6. Bitch’s Brew; 7. Beatles: Revolver & 8. Sgt. Pepper; 9. Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsodies; 10. Meco: Star Wars. Oh wait I forgot …. 

I have blogged here about many of my inspirations: writers, composers, painters. There’s a post in the archives of movies I watch over & over. There’s a difference between inspiration & pleasure. Not everything has to have some sort of emotional, creative weight to bring me joy. In fact nothing everything has to be ‘good’ either, it can be fun. I freely admit my shallowness 🙂

Or perhaps this list itch is a way if people exercising  some sort of control in a time when we fear the world is spinning out of control.

Confirmation

blood

my blood

sticky on my fingers

quick to cool 

iron on my tongue

red black thin

not enough to feel warmth

enough to know I have cut 

myself 

 

not where anyone can see it

I don’t cut for attention

no marks along my arms or wrists

no mesh of scars to explain 

to haunt me years later

 

I don’t remember how it started

was it to see some blood

or a need to make me hurt 

a grounding in shame

take that you stupid idiot

teach my body a lesson

teach my heart a song

let it sing that small drip refrain

 

I wash my hands when I’m done

watch the healing

then forget the ceremony

for hours 

for days

even for years 

before I am compelled once more

to feel my blood

sticky ripe between pale fingers

it smells the same

tastes the same

still comes as eagerly when called 

by the blade

as I evoke

a few confirming drops of my self

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Harvest

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Harvest 

the service station closed

because the owners

couldn’t afford 

the environmental clean up

the profit margin was so slim

it was better to go bankrupt

than pay the fines

for not doing 

the environmental clean up

that they also couldn’t afford

so they closed the station

abandoned it

after a decade they tore it down

to build a condo

or started to

but the soil was too contaminated

to build on

the cost of 

the environmental clean up

added too much to the initial start up

so it was abandoned once again

weeds grew

wild flowers grew

roses grew

the empty lot

became a garden

what was once there

was forgotten

vegetables were planted 

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