Separation
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle
Everything I do is stitched with its color

—

—
—
Gazing down the wells
of the afternoon,
the sunlight turns silvery-blue.

—
Give me one minute and your mind. 1. Please read the poem aloud. 2. Take a closer look at the photo 3. Play the first 30 seconds of Chopin’s Nocturne in B-flat minor, Op 9, No. 1. (past the 00:26 mark).
The goal: Create a dreamy, contemplative experience before you move on.
Thanks to all.
Pastoral
When I was younger
it was plain to me
I must make something of myself.
Older now
I walk back streets
admiring the houses
of the very poor:
roof out of line with sides
the yards cluttered
with old chicken wire, ashes,
furniture gone wrong;
the fences and outhouses
built of barrel staves
and parts of boxes, all,
if I am fortunate,
smeared a bluish green
that properly weathered
pleases me best of all colors.
No one
will believe this
of vast import to the nation

—

—
Popular music which reminds me of blue-green reflection:
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For me, if it doesn’t have a blues base, it doesn’t connect as well. In rock and pop music, I want the blues involved. George Benson is primarily a jazz guitarist, but he’s…just a deep natural talent (a musician’s musician). He’s got some big-band and pop influence, and some R & B, so he’s generally okay for your parents.
Like many other blues musicians, often times, the guitar becomes an extension of the voice (scat vocalizations).
—
In a naturally-induced, mildly Romantic dream-state, I learned Seattle and Tacoma combined comprise the 4th-largest container gateway in North America.
Like a cloud myself, and like a bird below the clouds, I moved through hanging gardens of rain. I landed on a ledge to warm my wings. I shook and cried and became the building, expanding as the sun warmed each stone.

—
Partly because of death, love and taxes, partly because some people are forever beating themselves, others, and a confession from the English language, I went looking for the most blue-green grove of late summer I could find.
Somewhere where they just say the sounds of words, and words mean things. Things like deep sorrow and joy, car and ship and tooth. Words full of wisdom and words tied to memory and words seeking each moment as it passes, welcoming truth.
Well…
I’ll take the West African blue note, and this green, green English. Follow the link to YouTube, alas.
As for 80’s pop, and the New-Romantic synth sound, it’s got an older groove:
Looking for ye Olde English Shoppe:
I prefer ‘Silent Night’ to be pure, and simple, and clear. I imagine drifts of snow frozen and crusted over, everything still, under a starry sky.
A bit of a prayer, really, but one of warmth:
It reminded me of this:
IV
My fiftieth year had come and gone,
I sat, a solitary man,
In a crowded London shop,
An open book and empty cup
On the marble table-top.
While on the shop and street I gazed
My body of a sudden blazed;
And twenty minutes more or less
It seemed, so great my happiness,
That I was blessed and could bless.
Whole poem here.
Not exactly Christmas…
Become a gentlemen, and recover your nobility, honor, and dignity, but with twinges of nostalgia, melancholy and loss.
Please don’t think of windmills, but there’s a lot of Spain in this one:
And if you’re tired of Christmas music, have some metal. Give this one a chance. It’s exquisitely played and thoughtfully arranged:
You’ve probably heard the intro to Boston’s ‘Foreplay/LongTime’ played in regular time, but what about half-time?
Mesmerizing and rather beautiful:
Because you didn’t ask:
‘I’ll begin the critique with the last point. “We never see properties, although we see that certain things have certain properties.” (179) If van Inwagen can ‘peter out,’ so can I: I honestly don’t know what to make of the second clause of the quoted sentence. I am now, with a brain properly caffeinated, staring at my blue coffee cup in good light. Van Inwagen’s claim is that I do not see the blueness of the cup, though I do see that the cup is blue. Here I balk. If I don’t see blueness, or blue, when I look at the cup, how can I see (literally see, with the eyes of the head, not the eye of the mind) that the cup is blue?’
From Darwinian Conservatism: ‘The Evolution of Mind and Mathematics: Dehaene Versus Plantinga and Nagel’Repost: From the Cambridge Companion To Plato-T.H. Irwin’s “Plato: The intellectual Background’
And because you really didn’t ask:
I got nuttin’ over here.
The Merry Month of May
O the month of May, the merry month of May,
So frolic, so gay, and so green, so green, so green!
O, and then did I unto my true love say:
“Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my summer’s queen!
Now the nightingale, the pretty nightingale,
The sweetest singer in all the forest’s choir,
Entreats thee, sweet Peggy, to hear thy true love’s tale;
Lo, yonder she sitteth, her breast against a brier.
But O, I spy the cuckoo, the cuckoo, the cuckoo;
See where she sitteth: come away, my joy;
Come away, I prithee: I do not like the cuckoo
Should sing where my Peggy and I kiss and toy.”
O the month of May, the merry month of May,
So frolic, so gay, and so green, so green, so green!
And then did I unto my true love say:
“Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my summer’s queen!”
Did you fall in love with this green, green English?
Maybe it all comes back around:
I think you’ve got to look at Billy Joel’s raw talent; the prodigious musical gifts and compositional ability; the mimicry, the voices, the piano-playing which became a vehicle for so many of his hits. Add a quite nice voice and a road-warrior mentality trying to offer value at every show, and you’ve got quite a package.
An American Songbook kind of guy.
I can barely think of anyone more Lon-Giland, who put his abilities to the American grindstone, but whose talent often hovers above any chosen genre he finds himself in.
Thanks, Billy.
Nick Paumgartner on a Slate review of Joel:
‘He was terrible, he is terrible, he always will be terrible. Anodyne, sappy, superficial, derivative, fraudulently rebellious. . . . Billy Joel’s music elevates self-aggrandizing self-pity and contempt for others into its own new and awful genre: ‘Mock-Rock.’ ”
He [Rosenbaum] called Joel “the Andrew Wyeth of contemporary pop music.”
When I mentioned this to Joel, he said, “What’s wrong with Andrew Wyeth?”
What is wrong with Andrew Wyeth? On this site see: Spring Beauties’-A Brief Post And A Link On Andrew Wyeth
On sitting down with Joel:
‘In between pieces, he began to explain that these were variations on a motif and that they were telling the story of the history of Long Island, from its pastoral beginnings to the arrival of the Europeans—“I’m imagining the prow of a ship, and a Puritan hymn”—and then the bustle of the nineteenth century. Farming, fishing, the railroad. “Getting busy on Long Island,” he said. “This one’s almost Coplandesque, with big open fifths.” We were a long way from Brenda and Eddie. He played intently as the room went dark.’
That sounds like a pretty talented artist looking for roots and sifting through American history and Americana for inspiration to me…
Here’s a popular song in the seafaring style trying to do good for local people without the righteous self-flattery and regard stars so often bring to the table:
——————-
Repost-A Reaction To Jeff Koons-For Commerce Or Contemplation?
Roger Scruton says keep politics out of the arts, and political judgment apart from aesthetic judgment…this includes race studies/feminist departments/gay studies etc.: Roger Scruton In The American Spectator Via A & L Daily: Farewell To Judgment
Goya’s Fight With Cudgels and Goya’s Colossus. A very good Goya page here.
Joan Miro: Woman… Goethe’s Color Theory: Artists And Thinkers…Some Quotes From Kant And A Visual Exercise
A Reaction To Jeff Koons ‘St John The Baptist’
Denis Dutton suggests art could head towards Darwin (and may offer new direction from the troubles of the modern art aimlessness and shallow depth) Review of Denis Dutton’s ‘The Art Instinct’

From Handel’s ‘Water Music’ Suite 3.
Just hit play and let me know if the image and the contemplative melancholy might have some overlap for you too:
Via Mick Hartley via Creative Boom-In Atlantic City: Photographs by Timothy Roberts that show its ‘last hurrah’ following years of struggle
Long ago in Atlantic City: I got my palm read by a girl under an aluminum scaffold covered with a cheap, white tarp. It cost $15. She took my hand in hers and led me through the other booths to a canvas folding chair. She traced my palm lines and told me I would be rich. There was salt in the air, and a smell of tar rising from the boardwalk. A fly kept landing on her cheek and she kept extending her lower lip, exhaling a breath to blow it away. She was busy looking into my hand, my eyes, then off into the sea or seemingly within herself, as if divining some deeper meaning. The fly would land again, crawl slowly over her cheek, and rub its two front legs together and over its eyes.
Her hand was soft.
As posted:
Glitzy:
From ‘Atlantic City Waiter’ by Countee Cullen
Just one stanza might do, to show there are many eyes you see, that may also see you:
‘For him to be humble who is proud
Needs colder artifice;
Though half his pride is disavowed,
In vain the sacrifice.’
It’s also the backdrop of a hard-luck guy with mob connections at the end of his rope. Desperate hopes.
As previously posted, and probably relevant enough to post here: Bowling Alone and Charles Murray:
The best poems I could find, but we’re not quite there to summer yet:
A Long Branch Song
Some days in May, little stars
Winked all over the ocean. The blue
Barely changed all morning and afternoon:
The chimes of the bank’s bronze clock;
The hoarse voice of Cookie, hawking
The Daily Record for thirty-five years
What is the poet looking at?:
Neither Far Out Nor In Deep
The people along the sand
All turn and look one way.
They turn their back on the land.
They look at the sea all day.
As long as it takes to pass
A ship keeps raising its hull;
The wetter ground like glass
Reflects a standing gull.
The land may vary more;
But wherever the truth may be—
The water comes ashore,
And the people look at the sea.
They cannot look out far.
They cannot look in deep.
But when was that ever a bar
To any watch they keep
A really good rock voice, stripped of instrumentation, pulled out of the mix:
A very good female rock voice, with instrumentation, and two voices harmonizing during the chorus.
Two very good voices, and a pretty good voice, with instrumentation, and sometimes three voices harmonizing.
Here are six good voices, harmonizing throughout:
A Whole Chorus:
Was Paul Simon trying to recover deeper folk truths? What might he have been looking for?
How far back can you go to get green?:
Deep, Southern Blues were reflected back through mixtures of rock and some English folk:
I imagine somewhere up on a Tennessee mountain, a girl singing a sad, sad song:
===================
Different colors represent different voices, the length of each bar/spaces between bars represent the duration of notes in time.
Is this kind of visualization helpful for players? for you as a listener?
Addition: Music Animation Machine webpage here.
These are great vocals and harmonies and very good songwriting. It’s country-folk with a bit of distance and strangeness; as though its been washed-through some pop and the indie L.A. scene, but also, apparently, through Sweden.
The Swedes seem to bring a forlorn, northern folk-depth to the table.
Hey, this reciprocity works for me:
A quintessential pop-song. There’s actually a lot of depth and arrangment here:
I had always thought the deep bass note is the driving force behind the song. Much like the low rumbling and deep bass sounds indicate foreboding and fear in a cinema experience. Relentless with a hint of dread.
But then again, the chord progession is rather haunting and Annie Lennox’s vocals (top-notch) are stark and beautiful. Maybe it’s the syncopation?
From the description (arranged for order):
I’m going with the 8-bit or the dual piano (2 and/or 4).
‘Piano version, 8 bit version, ragtime version, dual piano version or the terror version…’
The original video is mildly surrealistic 80’s shock-pop; just cheesy enough to flirt with schlock, but the combination of lyrics, story, musicality and simplicity give this song serious staying-power:
Too much shredding? Maybe, but that’s some tone, timing and technique!
You need a guy with near virtuosic talent on his instrument, some feel for composition, and long, long hours to play so faithfully live.
I like the change to the Am chorus at 2:50 or so.
Towards a theme. New-agey and way 80’s yes, but I really like the composition, and the raucous feel beginning at the :32 mark as the drums and bass kick-in:
Why, it’s a like a tapestry of vocal harmonies:
Everything old is new again. It gets positively medieval at 3:20 seconds?:
Who’s writing these things? Just enjoy. You culture has much to teach you if you bother to listen. Stuff gets passed down, you know.
You can’t see (hear) it all from one place.
A lot of breathing, technique, and multiphonics going on here. That can’t be easy. Smooth funk?
=============
From what I’m told, it’s really tough to get the fingering, and the feel, and the different voices of a Bach piece working together, but Ireland’s John Feeley does a really fine job:
I’ve wondered why Mike Oldfield (Tubular Bells, English guitarist and smart composer, New-Agey prog rock but deep…out there) seemed so popular in Spain.
I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an appeal to a sense of the deeply tragic going on, well-designed but emotionally intense songs; compositions with some classical influence and historical context, but still functioning as popular/bar songs.
He manages to work with excellent singers too.
Going For Baroque (get it?):
I imagine a bunch of little kids slowly waking-up in a loft, daylight breaking through shutters, the cobwebs of sleep still filling the room.
A simple wonder at the architecture of things:
A Scottish/Irish bar song, via Canada, via a Classical Guitar background, via a video game influence?:
This guy’s got serious technique and finger-independence:
————-
He’s a member of the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet.
As to the title of Couperin’s piece, the mystery continues, from women’s eyelashes to a train and all that mass, slowly gaining momentum as each constituent car clacks along, picking up speed.
An ‘American Folk’ uptempo version by Christopher Parkening:
I think you’ve got to look at Billy Joel’s raw talent; the prodigious musical gifts and compositional ability; the mimicry, the voices, the piano-playing which became a vehicle for so many of his hits. Add a quite nice voice and a road-warrior mentality trying to offer value at every show, working alongside his band, and you’ve got quite a package.
An American Songbook kind of guy.
I can barely think of anyone more Lon-Giland, who put his abilities to the American grindstone, but whose talent often hovers above any chosen genre he finds himself in.
Thanks, Billy.
Nick Paumgartner on a Slate review of Joel:
‘He was terrible, he is terrible, he always will be terrible. Anodyne, sappy, superficial, derivative, fraudulently rebellious. . . . Billy Joel’s music elevates self-aggrandizing self-pity and contempt for others into its own new and awful genre: ‘Mock-Rock.’ ”
He [Rosenbaum] called Joel “the Andrew Wyeth of contemporary pop music.”
When I mentioned this to Joel, he said, “What’s wrong with Andrew Wyeth?”
What is wrong with Andrew Wyeth? On this site see: Spring Beauties’-A Brief Post And A Link On Andrew Wyeth
On sitting down with Joel:
‘In between pieces, he began to explain that these were variations on a motif and that they were telling the story of the history of Long Island, from its pastoral beginnings to the arrival of the Europeans—“I’m imagining the prow of a ship, and a Puritan hymn”—and then the bustle of the nineteenth century. Farming, fishing, the railroad. “Getting busy on Long Island,” he said. “This one’s almost Coplandesque, with big open fifths.” We were a long way from Brenda and Eddie. He played intently as the room went dark.’
That sounds like a pretty talented artist looking for roots and sifting through American history and Americana for inspiration to me…
Here’s a popular song in the seafaring style trying to do good for local people without the righteous self-flattery and regard stars so often bring to the table:
——————-
Repost-A Reaction To Jeff Koons-For Commerce Or Contemplation?
Roger Scruton says keep politics out of the arts, and political judgment apart from aesthetic judgment…this includes race studies/feminist departments/gay studies etc.: Roger Scruton In The American Spectator Via A & L Daily: Farewell To Judgment
Goya’s Fight With Cudgels and Goya’s Colossus. A very good Goya page here.
Joan Miro: Woman… Goethe’s Color Theory: Artists And Thinkers…Some Quotes From Kant And A Visual Exercise
A Reaction To Jeff Koons ‘St John The Baptist’
Denis Dutton suggests art could head towards Darwin (and may offer new direction from the troubles of the modern art aimlessness and shallow depth) Review of Denis Dutton’s ‘The Art Instinct’
Three songs on a theme, and a nonexistent prize if you can guess what it is:
———————-
———————-
As played by the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra and conducted by Nic Raine. From Basil Poledouris‘ original composition:
3:40 of inspiration:
———————–
Here.
Thanks to a reader for the link.
The site allows you to play well-known pop songs and break those songs down into their component parts as would a sound engineer (vocals, drums, bass, guitar etc) for mixing purposes. Isolate each part, add or remove, at your leisure throughout the recorded song.
I fiddled with Dire Straits ‘Sultans Of Swing’ for a good half-hour or so. There may be a favorite of yours on the list.
The first real ‘direct’ observation of water:
“From the size of gravels it carried, we can interpret the water was moving about 3 feet per second, with a depth somewhere between ankle and hip deep,” said Curiosity science co-investigator William Dietrich of the University of California, Berkeley. “Plenty of papers have been written about channels on Mars with many different hypotheses about the flows in them. This is the first time we’re actually seeing water-transported gravel on Mars. This is a transition from speculation about the size of streambed material to direct observation of it.”
Apparently, it’s sedimentary conglomerate. Rounded rocks smoothed by water and deposited in a cement like structure, which is now jutting above the surface as it lays in a large alluvial fan bed. Comparison photo from Chile, back on Earth, of what appears to be a similar phenomenon. The Rover is still headed towards Glenelg.
Video comparison on alluvial fans between Las Vegas and L.A. and on Mars, where the Rover sits:
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Thanks to everyone in the Jet Propulsion Laboratory living on Mars time!
Related On This Site: Via The Mars Science Laboratory At NASA: ”Mount Sharp’ On Mars Links Geology’s Past And Future’…Via Youtube: ‘The Challenges Of Getting To Mars: Selecting A Landing Site
NASA Via Youtube: ‘The Martians: Launching Curiosity To Mars’…NASA Via Youtube: ‘Mars Science Laboratory (Curiosity Rover) Mission Animation…Repost: Richard Feynman at NASA…
‘Sometimes my sympathy for science magazines (in print and online), which try to keep intelligent readers informed on the progress in basic science, gets dampened by observing how they end up providing a narrow-sighted look at things’
and
‘Muon radiography is indeed a promising technique for several applications, not only against smuggling of nuclear material or -God forbid- nuclear weapons. The Italian researchers are involved in a European Union funded project to detect screened radioactive sources illegally introduced into trucks bringing scrap iron to foundries’
Also On This Site: …From 3 Quarks Daily: Richard Feynman Talks About A Pool And A Not-So-Pretty Girl…From Scientific Blogging: ‘On Eyjafjallajökull’…what good can philosophy do for the sciences? From Scientific American: Was Einstein Wrong?

Mike Oldfield wrote tubular bells, the eerie background music for the Exorcist. He also wrote To France, a tribute to Mary Queen of Scots escape from England which is covered in the video above. The song catches some of the spirit of English ballad and traditional folk while dealing with Protestant/Catholic subject matter.
Spaniards have a real interest in Oldfield, and I can’t help but wonder if there aren’t some shared Catholic traditions that spark the Spanish interest in Oldfield’s music (besides all the shared history).
……….
On a related note, an emailer wrote me wondering why I had posts about music, when many other posts contain arguments which are contradicted by an indulgence in music. I’d say there certainly is a lot of naivete and danger in seeking transcendance through music, which is so easily used by politicans, armies on the march, churches, dictators, …even witch doctors… to soften the mind rather than sharpen it, to incite the passions, and even perhaps to corrupt the spirit.
It’s not anything you won’t find in Plato, or in this essay on Plato, frankly:
This also meant that the artist is two steps removed from knowledge, and, indeed, Plato’s frequent criticism of the artists is that they lack genuine knowledge of what they are doing. Artistic creation, Plato observed, seems to be rooted in a kind of inspired madness.
So, good point, dear emailer.
He’s got incredible technique. The Moors (North African Arabs) conquered all but a small region of north-central Spain, and this song is in part about the origins (mythic) of more recent Catholic Spain.
See also: El Cid, The Reconquest, Isaac Albeniz, Andres Segovia
The best version I’ve found. I’ve always really enjoyed this song. It’s light but deep…playful even.
Love that voice. Way to go boys….Sunday Bloody Sunday