This is a set of ‘moving pictures’ taken from our car as we drove through Perth County July 28 on a day trip to Stratford.
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.”
“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.
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.
I’ve seen Lydia Lunch perform a few times. Daring edgy, funny, vulgar & fun. She heads an mp3 collection that includes her Queen of Siam; Dagger & Guitar; & Big Sexy Noise. Also here are Flying Lizards 1, Top 10; Moondog 1, 2; Laurie Anderson: Mister Heartbreak.
I’m not sure if heard her perform before I heard Queen of Siam. The music is a mix of retro beatnik, a touch of big band, surf music & spoke word. She doesn’t exactly sing & her spoken style is a slightly detached almost indifference to the words themselves, captivating. but it is all good. I’m always happy to hear this Queen. The other two I have are good & more of the same with the same beatnik vibe. I say beatnik to separate her from the flower power hippy 60’s/70’s.
The same is true for Laurie Anderson. Laurie has more pop in her songs than Lydia, even dueting with Peter Gabriel. The music is experimental yet easy listening at the same time. Not aggressive musically but intellectually stimulating. Laurie presents sharp emotional commentary in a sweet deceptive wrap. Similar to Lydia she is more of a spoken word performer than a singer. Multi-tracking & loop songs wash over you. Serious, humorous but not campy.
Flying Lizards on the other hand are deadpan campy fun. The offer “bent interpretations of pop music constructs.” I loved their deconstruction of Summertime Blues & the album is a delight . Top Ten continues with astonishing demolitions of classic such as Get Up (I Feel like Being A) Sex Machine. These guys fill me with delight.
To round this collection of I added two by Moondog. This is a true beatnik musical rebel. Jazz? certainly not pop. 1 is experimental, unpredictable & avant-garde. 2 is a set of madrigal rounds. He realized a number of recordings in he mid50’s, drawback & returned when Big Bother & The Holding Company did a recording of one of his songs & he started writing & recording again. A true pioneer, iconoclast who influenced Lunch, Anderson, Bjork (to name a few) I should be part of your musical education.
The Milky Way
My bother wanted us to get out of the car. He’d never seen a cow before. Neither had I but I had no interest in seeing a cow. We were on one of my Dad’s Sunday adventure drives. He’d hop in the car with us kids – me the oldest, my bother then our two little sister. Then drive without a goal.
There were some places we’d see at least once a month. Places our Dad knew we’d like. But at least once a month we’d have no idea where he was taking us.
This time he’d suddenly turned off the highway – nice and smooth paved – onto a dirt road. Gravel pecking at the underside of the car.
Empty fields then forest clumps more empty fields. Up hills then down. A puddle from recent rain at the bottom of this last hill where we made the biggest splash I’d ever seen.
My sisters screamed with glee and fear as my bother shouted. “We’re going down down down. We’re going to drown drown drown.”
We didn’t drown but the bottom of the car scraped something with an ugly grind. At the level end of this lane Dad got out to look underneath.
“Looks fine. Nothing leaking.”
That’s when the cows came over. Only four of them. not in a hurry but slowly they came over to the fnece as we got back int he car. dad started off again and the cows seemed to follow us along the fence as my dad drove slowly. My bother wanted to stop.
So we stopped. Me and my brother got out and stepped over to the cows.
Their gigantic headed drooling as they nodded down to us. The smell of dung was over powering.
“They stink.” My brother laughed. “They smell worse that you girls.”
My sisters got out of the car. Their eyes bigger than cow eyes. Each of them had half an apple that our mother had cut for a snack later.
One held it up to the nearest cow. Big pink tongue licked out of the saliva for the apples and both my sisters screamed and ran back to the car.
We boys got back in.
“What did you think was going to happen.” I asked.
“They don’t have hands to take food from you.”
One sister was wiping her hand on a towel. Smelling it and wiping it some more.
“Now you know where milk comes from.” My dad said as we eased back on the road.
“Milk?” My sister turned pale. She was never fond of milk after that.
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it’s not that it isn’t satisfying
in no way is this a judgement
of the quality
there may be deeper flavours
those aren’t the issues
it’s not that there’s a alternative
or some way
of not accepting what is offered
in favour of something else
enough is enough
even if it is only available now
there is no need to apologize
what is here
will have to do
this isn’t a complaint
taking it in
making the most of it
this desire not to have more
at least not more of the same
We live in a paradoxical culture in which we are either polite to the point of codependency or enraged when our desire to control is thwarted. We say or do things we’d rather not do just to spare someone feelings then get pissed if they aren’t grateful enough.
Discernment becomes pretentiousness. As the current USA President demonstrates, to be even mildly critical is to be dismissed as an unpatriotic hater – if you aren’t blindly with us you are against us.
This piece is a list poem not one with with a direct plot line, no narrative other than the one the reader imposes on it. So if you didn’t find it had a beginning middle or logical ending – it doesn’t. It respects the readers’ ability to make connections, to find their way without every moment being sign-posted with neon arrows.
Some of the lines are things I’ve overheard, hear on TV/movies, read where people are talking about identity, sexuality, or food. Words have been given a spin but changing a letter, adding a letter etc. Pulling them out of one context & dropping them into another. Like the piece, this chat about the piece feels there is no need to apologize or explain. I’ve discovered that what I say & what you hear can be two different things anyway.
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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.
“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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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” 🙂
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
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
if you were here now
I’d probably take you back
but still wouldn’t trust you
as far as you could throw
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.
haunted stump & bones of tree professionals came later in the year to remove the stump
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Thanks to the weather this has been yet another week of deep house cleaning, purging & rearranging. That is three mornings of social isolation in which I listen to podcast & dust, vacuum & lose the weight of stuff. The weather has cooperated somewhat with rainy or overcast mornings so staying indoors isn’t so challenging.
Advances in technology have made the purging process easier – I found a drawer full of those little diskettes that predated cds. Bye. Bye. So much paper that our recycle bin is full to the brim. I can’t wait to see it emptied by the city at the end of the week because I already have more to get rid of 🙂
The covid crisis hasn’t been personally stressful but I has let me stop & do things I’ve been meaning to do for too long. The meditative power of the walk seemed more spiritually elevating than getting rid of cobwebs (yes there lots of those in not so dark corners). Food a pile of board games : Scrabble, Monopoly etc that hasn’t seen the light of day in over 20 years. I put them near the sidewalk for folks to take & most of them, except Monopoly where gone within a couple of hours. Put the remains out the next & those that didn’t get new homes were unboxed & sorted into the blue bin. Bye bye Monopoly.
I opted to do this home isolation a few morning a week to comply with the stay home rule. Now that I’ve pulled out the vacuum I am pleased with the sense of peace that comes seeing no dust, no twenty-year-old caches of never-to-be-used paper & to see actual empty space. The house is cleaner. More rooms yet to be done though as I am only devoting 90 focused minute at a time to this process. Who knows how much longer this lockdown might last & I don’t want to do a whirlwind job just to get it out of the way, then have no productive distractions left. Yes, I can eat one chocolate a day from a box of chocolates 🙂
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Photos Don Valley April 23, 2020
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 🙂
“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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Working through the 227 Rules For Monks.
Who knew the simple life could be so complex.
while I slip into something
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
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
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