Jim Henson and Kermit.
I bought a Brian Eno/John Cale tape for $1.99 at M-Theory. I think this song is an example of a perfect song. That might sound like hyperbole but I really mean it. Don’t think I could get tired of this. Lyrically, musically, texturally…just wow. I feel like this hit me in a very specific way when it came on, like there was no time before it that would have been appropriate for me to listen to it. Like the context of where I am and everything that came before buying this tape and listening to this song had lead up to and served the song. Like circumstance and decision and chance had drawn some windy path for me to listen. Like air passing through a cracked window, breeze through a stretched palm, or the current of something larger puling me in. Like shrinking and compressing oneself to admire the magnitude of anthills or a pooling ocean after unexpected rain.
(maybe a lil hyperbole, but we’re past the point of no return)
Up on a hill, as the day dissolves
With my pencil turning moments into line
High above in the violet sky
A silent silver plane - it draws a golden chain
One by one, all the stars appear
As the great winds of the planet spiral in
Spinning away, like the night sky at Arles
In the million insect storm, the constellations form
On a hill, under a raven sky
I have no idea exactly what I’ve drawn
Some kind of change, some kind of spinning away
With every single line moving further out in time
And now as the pale moon rides (in the stars)
Her form in my pale blue lines (in the stars)
And there, as the world rolls round (in the stars)
I draw, but the lines move round (in the stars)
There, as the great wheels blaze (in the stars)
I draw, but my drawing fades (in the stars)
And now, as the old sun dies (in the stars)
I draw, and the four winds sigh (in the stars)
Let see what this baby can do
This is one of my cats named Callie because she’s calico. She’s lives in our garage and we don’t know exactly how old she is but we think it’s around 20 (I think she’s older). She used to be really mean but extremely keen when I was younger but now in her retirement she has become really sweet, will lick your hand and occasionally make techno patterns through an old bass amp between the car and storage.
Callie died this morning. I buried her in the open lot on our property. I’m not sad because she lived as full of a life as she could have. She’s an anomaly in that she lived outside for 20+ years with the coyotes in our area, through the rapidly changing developments next door and the lure of adventure over the mesa.
Here’s to you Callie