The Call To Learn.

How To Truly Listen.

Give Me One Reason.

These Are.

Wanting Memories.

Rocky Point Holiday.

Wow.

An Outdoor Overture, Copland.

Any Fantastic Outcome.

I love that deep in the heart of great art lies the possibility for any fantastic outcome.

There is no expected result in creativity.

The only presence restraining you is your own subconscious.

The artistic soul is that of one without fear of life's consequences.

Helplessness Blues, Fleet Foxes.

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see
And now after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

But I don't, I don't know what that will be
I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

What's my name, what's my station, oh, just tell me what I should do
I don't need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you
Or bow down and be grateful and say "sure, take all that you see"
To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me

And I don't, I don't know who to believe
I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

If I know only one thing, it's that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I'm tongue-tied and dizzy and I can't keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?

And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf
I'll come back to you someday soon myself

If I had an orchard, I'd work till I'm raw
If I had an orchard, I'd work till I'm sore
And you would wait tables and soon run the store

Gold hair in the sunlight, my light in the dawn
If I had an orchard, I'd work till I'm sore
If I had an orchard, I'd work till I'm sore
Someday I'll be like the man on the screen

But I Know It's True.

                       Excerpt from ADS, presented by the New York City Players & conceived by Richard Maxwell.    

Wingardium Leviosa.

"Now don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing " squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important  too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said `s` instead of `f` and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest. 

              Excerpt from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, J. K. Rowling

Scales and Arpeggios, The Aristocats.

Ending Up.

But from that moment on, Hermione Grainger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

              Excerpt from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, J. K. Rowling

Goodbye.

Who Knows Who Cares.

I miss Fall.

Symphony No. 4, Scherzo, Tchaikovsky.

Saw a performance of this movement live this weekend.. just astonishing.

Ya Cat, Allison Wildenborg.

Vs. 1 In the morning you are there

I look at you and I see beauty

All the time you give me happiness

Ref. You cat, I pet you in the morning and in the night

You cat, I pet you all the days

I love you cat, stay with me

Vs. 2 In black and white like a suit

You walk anywhere in my home

And in my home you are a king

Ref. You cat, I pet you in the morning and in the night

You cat, I pet you all the days

I love you cat, stay with me

Vs. 3 You are more than a pet only

You are more than my best friend

You are my cat...always, always

Ref. You cat, I pet you in the morning and in the night

You cat, I pet you all the days

I love you cat, stay with me

Gallopin' Gorgons.

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me, " said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl -- a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl -- a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore, 

Given Harry his letter. 

Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. 

Weather's horrible. Hope you're Well. 

Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, 
and threw the owl out into the storm. 

9 to 4 Shifts.

Hello, welcome to Dollar Tree. Can I help you find anything this Sunday morning?


(Alpaca Grandma pushes her way past, while both snorting and refusing to abide by all traffic laws, she obscenely curses..)
"I know where I am - goddammit! I just can't see your ass, batteries, shit!!"


Mam, that's because our conveniently placed battery center can be found five feet to the left of us..

Yup, right there..

No, not the right - directly to your left..

...

No Mam! Left.. left, left!

Right there. Directly in front you.

Yup, right theeeerrreee mam.

Yes mam, those are batteries.


...


No.. we don't carry car batteries here.

Sorry.

...

Let me know if you need anything more.

Exceeded Our Humanity.

"It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity."

Albert Einstein

The Common Routine.

Annotated passage from The Cocktail Party by T. S. Elliot.

When Love Arrives, Sarah Kay & Phil Kaye.

Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone. Maybe love is not ready for you. Maybe you are not ready for love. Maybe love just isn't the marrying type. Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce. Love looks older now, but just as beautiful as you remember. Maybe love is only there for a month. Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit. Maybe love stays. Maybe love can't. Maybe love shouldn't.

Peace (An Elegy), Ryan Scott Oliver.

Elsa's Procession to the Cathedral, Baylor University Wind Ensemble.

Dreaming, Eyes Open, I Believe.

Dare to go there.

Home, Jake Runestad.

Esprit de Corps.

New Beginnings in Long Tradition.

The newness of the sky glows yellow in this starry yonder
Fizzling through shade they glimmer.

Air brisk warm upon earths new day
Dusk scattered breezes blanket the forecast we predict.

November callings lead to forthcoming in dreams aspired towards
Fantastic resounding is the only prophet I abide to.

Let's be thoughtful for new beginnings in long tradition
Discover is coveted in our suspicions and belief.

Disconnected and Creatively Sterile.

When a society is bombarded with stimulation from every angle, it tends to get numb. When technology supplants cell, art tends to become less human. When most every person in our society is among the richest human beings ever to have walked he face of the earth, we tend, to become cheap. When fame is more important than the value of the work, art tends to take a back seat to image. When our religious and philosophical views of reality harden into dead fundamentalism, we grow disconnected and creatively sterile. 

Underneath these roots lies the soil of our most fundamental and primal selves. This is the place where we hold our most basic views of reality. These views are probably not as articulate and coherent as our professed religious or philosophical systems. This is not the place of mathematical proofs or systematic theology but the raw, primordal soup of our existence. This is the place that holds our most basic fears, needs, and desires-the place that gives rise to instinct and passion. This is the soil of our humanness that makes up the ground from which all our thoughts, words, action, and creation spring. This deeper place affects our creativity in the most fundamental ways. 

Excerpt from The Crowd, The Critic, And The Muse by M. Gungor.

Bron-Y-Aur Stomp Led Zeppelin.

Bron-Yr-Aur (Welsh for "breast of the gold", or by extension, "hill of the gold" or "golden hill";^[1] Welsh pronunciation: [brɔn.ər.aɪr]) is a privately owned 18th-century cottage, on the outskirts of Machynlleth, Wales.

Overure to Russlan and Ludmilla, Glinka.

Performed by the Orchestra of the Mariinsky Theatre.

Directed by Valery Gergiev who, yes, indeed is conducting with a toothpick. 

Ruslan and Ludmila (pre-reform Russian: Русланъ и Людмила; post-reform Russian: Руслан и Людмила, tr. Ruslan i Lyudmila) is a poem by Alexander Pushkin, published in 1820. It is written as an epic fairy tale consisting of a dedication (посвящение^[1]), six "cantos" (песни), and an epilogue (эпилог). It tells the story of the abduction of Ludmila, the daughter of Prince Vladimir of Kiev, by an evil wizard and the attempt by the brave knight Ruslan to find and rescue her.

inset on Sunday, December 16, 2018

If Not To Be Honest.

"What is the point of this stupid, painful life if not to be honest? If not to stand up for what one is in the core of one’s being?"

                Excerpt from The Pride by Elyse Sommer.

Zoom Tube.

Aspen.

Breaking Down The Riffs with Natalie Weiss, Episode 3.

Meet Me In St. Louis.

External Expectation.

"Almost everything--all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure--these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart." Steve Jobs

The Earth Is Yours, Gungor.

Lol.

The Changing Evolution.

Excerpt from Dog Sees God, Bert V. Royal.           

Profound Sincerity.

If 

I 

Wanted 

To

Become

A 

Actress

I 

Would 

Just 

Go 

Home.

I 

Have 

Learned 

So 

Much.

I 

Will 

Try 

To 

Realize 

The 

Gigantic-ness!

Of

Capabilities!

And 

The 

Way 

I 

Express 

Anger 

Is 

Indescribable.

Peace 

Is 

Just 

Okay 

For 

Everybody 

But 

We 

Will 

Succeed 

Always 

If 

We 

Try 

And 

Become 

Flowers.

               Circle Mirror Transformation, Annie Baker.         

A Week in The Cities.