Don Lowe - Singer Songwriter - Brand New Cadillac

Another song I am liking a lot these days

 

Pigeon holes and Platitudes

People love platitudes. I'm fond of a few myself. Just check the memes floating around Facebook and other social networks. Platitudes and pigeonholes make us relax. Reality, not so much.

In general people prefer that disturbing realities fold their wings neatly, then duck politely into a sturdy square box with a lid, out of sight - a box that keeps its contents in check - so things can't pop out and flop around in plain sight. Otherwise people might start questioning their faith in a happy world where a good-guy god reigns and where everyone who needs soon has.

We reach for platitudes for comfort.. Nonsense like: "Everything happens for a reason. Everything works out for the best."  Tell that to an antelope being torn apart by hyenas. The messy truth is this: the living world runs on death. Hamburgers, salmon steak and chicken wings have all been ripped untimely from beasts who weren't through with them yet. Don't let the grocery store's neat Styrofoam trays and pristine shrink wrap fool you. Life eats other life in order to continue. Purportedly this is the invention of a gentle loving god.

People too end in unseemly ways. They get blown up, burnt to cinders, have limbs severed, are mangled inside car wrecks,  beaten to death, starve in slow bony collapse, ache with suicidal despair, have their bleeding guts poured out on indifferent ground before laughing witnesses.

It's just easier for the more comfortable branches of the human race not to think about it much. We stuff this information into a little square pigeonhole and we paste a few decorator platitudes on top of it.

This enables us to buy expensive designer sneakers and iPhones for our kids without guilt. It enables us to live as extravagantly as possible believing we deserve it all, or to happily enjoy whatever small pleasures we can find while rationalizing away the world's ubiquitous cruelty and inequity.

This philosophical slight of hand makes it possible to have lunch once in a while. And after all, if you have lunch - you might as well savor every bite....

Bon appetite.

-- Mad Mar (Mistryel) Walker
originally written April 9, 2002 & updated in 2013. 

Location location location

 A cactus has been lurking silently in the backroom of this residence for as long as we have lived here. It was a gift from a former friend just before moving here. The damn thing lived on and on - longer than the friendship which gave way and finally collapsed under the weight of unfulfilled expectation. I rarely do the expected thing, or the polite thing. Some people want me to conform

 It didn't bother the cactus though at least not for many years. But even a cactus requires attention in the form of light and water once in a while. The blinds were opened, The pot was behind a pile of books. It didn't get water and the sun shone on and on. I forgot it to death. It happens. I just watered it though it is pale and brown. Just in case there is a tiny spark left. You never know.

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Instrumental epiphany at the Irish Cultural Center

For quite a few years now I had been playing a big red guitar called Henry, pictured left. He was a flame top Kort guitar. I thought the finish was pretty and the tone was nice, Fishman pickups etc. But lately I had been feeling like playing and singing at the same time had become a struggle. I discovered why recently.

I went down to the Greater Danbury Irish Cultural Center on July 31 to play in a new Wednesday night music open mic there, hosted by Bob & Felicia of the Blue Yodels. It was right here in town, perfect location for me and I couldn't think of a good excuse not to try it out. When I got there though - I kinda had second thoughts. I hadn't played anywhere in ages, and had never been in the place before, had no idea what it was like. So decided I'd leave Henry in the trunk - just watch the show and check out the lay of the land. Maybe play next time.

That was my plan anyway. Plans often go awry. Bob chatted along in his best professional host / MC way and pretty soon he'd talked me into doing a couple songs. So I used his Blueridge acoustic. Wow. It was a different experience - so comfortable and easy after Henry.

When I went home, I took a look at the shape of my guitar with the image of that Blueridge in my head. Henry was kinda thick-bodied, and thick-wasted . And I am a short and short-armed finger picking player. Getting my fat arm over Henry's bulk pressed him into my brisket right where I needed to expand to get air to sing. It was a no win situation and I was wrestling with something just a bit too big. As I practiced afterwards, It just didn't feel right anymore.

 On Friday I went down to the guitar center and traded Henry in on a Luna Oracle Dragonfly, a cutaway like Henry. (Now I know some folks like to have a collection of instruments. I like to travel light and I can only play one at a time. A trade-in deal made economic sense as well.)  My Dragonfly, she's just a little thinner, has a more pinched in waist to allow my arm a clear path to the strings, and also a thinner neck and finger-board built for my small hands. As an added bonus she has an on-board tuner. Woohoo!

Busy No 2 at SCAN this week

Busy No 2: (on the bottom right) is on display at SCAN this week at the library. Here it is nicely grouped with two other works. I am thrilled they took it. It has never actually been shown before....

Poem: What is aka Schema

Pajama Party on the Wall

The little painting on the upper right, Pajama Party I "unicorned"  and kitched up especially for the Unicorn show at Motlen Java. It's oil on canvas board.  For more on this one either scroll down or http://artsattic.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-uncertain-path-of-particular.html