ugimooks

hi

2004-10-21T14:19:00.000-07:00

how do. don't know much 'bout this bloggin'. went to google.com and searched: "limestone, kevin gant." check it out. 1st entry took me to blogger.com. man...

1-8-04

2004-01-08T07:25:00.000-08:00

been some week, i tell you. started off w/ me quittin' groovin ground on mon. nt. man, i didn't mean to do it, but it was kind of dragged out of me. there were many reasons to quit. right now, i feel like i may continue if certain changes are made.

today i had a 4 foot hose w/ a scope on the end put up my butt and into my colon. wow- it was life-changing in a way- i never really consider that part of my body. it's a part of my body i should feel and get to know a little better. i wonder if a right-wing, christian upbringing contributed to the way i feel for my anus...

good lessons today. picked up a new student, and it feels like she's going to be really good. hannah and callie both got new guitars for christmas, which totally kicks ass! callie's is a martin backpacker, wow!

emilie, my cousin's, been stayin' here, when she's not hangin' w/ panda. talkin' 'bout life-changin'- panda's made me see the new lite- to go on the road and live in a bus, playin' music- that's what he does. man, is his bus somethin'. i've been around that guy a lot this week, and i just met him. he says he thinks of me, emilie, and russ as family. man, that's some special sauce...

inspiration from jimmy george in '99

2004-01-07T07:22:00.000-08:00

i have received three substantial talks in my life-

the 1st was at the national order of the arrow conference in indiana in 1990, i think it was. it was a boy scout deal and i listened w/ severe intensity to the talks given by mel, earl fenner, bo limbaugh, in regards to singing american indian music of the southern plains.

the third talk came this past year, over december holidays, and was an uplifting talk from mr. doug snyder.

the second is recorded here, on 10/6/99, while mr. jimmy george was giving me a ride home to j. molin's house, where i was living at the time:

I mean, I think Jimmy’s really on to something. It’s like, understanding that art is very important in this world, and pursuing it to no end. Perhaps it’s like observing those parts of the earth that are perhaps devoid of quality or art, placing judgements on those sorts of things, and realizing how monetarily poor those parts of the earth are. What I’m saying is, Jimmy’s no saint, but he’s paved a path for others to follow. Perhaps by listening to him and learning from him, you can also follow in that path, like one of those “10 ways to success” books, but it’s a real, living human in front of you, doing it.

So, you learn from your elders how to do things, and how to live, and how to think. Perhaps they are living some lie, too. They’re just passing on the lie to you. So, you work and raise a family. Where’s the art in your life? Where’s the thing you can share with others and bring them joy and love?

You have to slave at that job to buy the things you need, to be the “bread winner” for your family. But what if you took a chance, realizing that there was art in you, recognizing that it’s a gift you would be giving to the earth, and to its people, seeing that you aren’t being annoying, but giving, and giving up your job to pursue survival through that art.

Notice how I said survival. Lean times, indeed, ahead. Should one replace comfort for the pursuit of one’s art? But what about those credit card bills, and the kids to feed? When am I ever going to get some decent sleep?

12-29-03

2003-12-29T18:47:00.000-08:00

this is the last day of the trip of the clepairs, padre, mo, emo, and margaret. yesterday we visted marfa after a late start, making a breakfast of oatmeal, flax seed, yougurt, nuts, berries. in marfa, we went to the marfa book co., where i was pleasantly surprised to run across an old high school acquaintance from pearland, rick. russ knows him because he's w/ wendy, who used to run the chinati hot springs. wendy is now making this outstanding bottle-cap art and she took us to her studio, which was a few rooms in a warehouse space on the corner. rick is coffee-tending at said book co., and he allowed us to set up there on the couch and we played for a good three hrs. some folks gave us some wine. then we left and went to a rd. side stop to look for marfa lites, and i think we saw some, but it was too damn cold.

on the way to marfa, we saw a balloon that looked like the space shuttle. we learned later that it was a "drug-border-overseeing balloon." - margaret. it was probably spyin' on us. russ got some ole memories churned-up from the country-side, grassy and hill-like. we also enjoyed an old demo i had from "the barbers."

a side note here- margaret was indispensable as a cook and food provider. one of these mornings, i think it was the 30th of dec., she made for us a fantastic breakfast on an open fire. it took several hours and was well worth it- bacon, pancakes, eggs, cowboy coffee, incredible. the dogs couldn't keep away from it either. they were all around the chinati hot springs. dave and chrissy were nice folks and may have russ and me back in the spring time to play a weekend out there.

12-28-03

2003-12-28T18:31:00.000-08:00

russ, margaret, emilie (emo), mo are in w. tx- we came out here a couple of days ago on 12/26. I ain't never been out this way. the drive was nice and quick in margaret's isuzu rodeo. russ and i brought our guitars. on the evening of 12/26, after drivin' all day, we 1st hit ms. tracy's diner in terlingua, tx. she's a hip ole gal and her diner had all kinds of groovy oddities- in fact her staff had built her a bird bath out of an ole tire hub as a bass and an ole roastin' tub as the vessel that held water. we also learned that she's an old wiccan, passed down thru generations.

then we went to get a room and then to la kiva where the menudo bro's were playin'. that was a great place- and billy faier was playin' w/ pablo menudo. russ had a tape of outstanding banjo pickin' from faier in the 50's that we were all diggin' on- incidently, we dug my american indian music all the way to w. tx, groovin' outa margaret's tape deck. pablo, knowin' russ, gave us some time on the stage. i'm findin' that russ and margaret, as cool and nice as they are, are buildin' good relationships out here. we drank some at la kiva, and that hurt me early the next day. but i will try to be careful and margaret dropped me a prevacid. oh- we met josh, a local and new employee at la kiva, and he took us out to the rainbow mine after the bar closed - we also got to see the starlight theater and emo, beautiful and stunning as she is, is just plain shockin' everyone. the starlight- what a great mural and presence- a good run would be thru odessa, alpine, study butte.

on 12/27, we tooled around study butte (jensen gallery, crawling down a tunnel) - oh, sorry, that was in terlingua. then we drove to chinati hot springs and hit some nice spots- 2 old movie sets, some landscapin's w/ hole outcroppin's (i got to hide and sleep in some of those holes). the chinati hot springs have been a blessing - seems like they have everything you need here - no more, no less. everyone is friendly and has an artisty edge.

we met sydney brammer (sara eckhardt's big sis) and michael, an accordion player who is to jam at la kiva on new year's w/ joe king carasco. we all jammed in the kitchen 'till midnt. sydney does indy films and knows marci allen- she loved emo's stuff- everyone does- man, is she somethin'.

12-24-03

2003-12-24T18:30:00.000-08:00

whew hoo- another year about to roll by, and i think i was just getting used to writing down 2003 instead of 2002. i hope i don't get further behind...
well, i believe i'm in much better spirits than a few days back. i have a way of fantasizin' about splittin' town when i get down.
had a good talk w/ mr. doug snyder of the jelly dots last nite over a few beers down at the ole carousel lounge. we talked shop and swapped stories about the auto/biographies we've been reading. he's been readin' sting's latest and i've been readin' the miles davis biography. we also exchanged band stories
i also got to see the lord of the rings movie w/ a beautiful young woman whom i met at work named graciela. it's been real nice bein' 'round her, man.
and my cousin russell clepper's (on my other's side) daughter's comin' down from quebec. i believe we're all headed out for big bend for a week- it appears that the boys may come along in the van, and perhaps graciela and a friend of hers, sarah.
it was also good to hang w/ russ and mike phelan down at specht's store this past sun. russ runs an open mic down there, 2-6pm, every sun. cool place w/ pasture in the background. callie and nick came along. it was a smokin' time!
happy holidays to whomever happens to be readin' this! joy to you and yours!

12-20-03

2003-12-20T18:29:00.000-08:00

the cd releases for yori are over and i feel a great sense of relief. lacie taylor came to my last release and gave me some ugi food she's made. she's so beautiful. thanx to j molin and doug snyder for cheerin' me up last nt., especially to doug who gave me the 3rd most important talk of my life, indeed. things are good- gotta keep truckin'.

'twas good to sing the "49" w/ james mize and ox tonite down at cafe mundi before the show inside. it was good to play songs from greg longfellow and kevin gant tonite, as well as have lee barber on the stage.

12-19-03

2003-12-19T18:28:00.000-08:00

well, here it is, another christmas season.

this is what i told eboz yesterday: "when i slow down, i get so god-f___ lonely." there seems to be a price one pays for freedom. i was talkin' to a buddy yesterday who is right now going thru divorce and we were discussing this issue.

on the one hand, there's the drive to get on the road w/ the music; on the other hand, there's the drive to get settled w/ a partner.

both ways have their good and bad points i guess. right now i'm geared for the former path, and it's wearin' on me.

the band groovin ground is in a serious transition. "...this is serious...", to quote a silly, little rap rhyme the fellas came up w/ at band camp...

band camp... now, that was somethin'. me and the boys of groovin ground holed-in for a solid 4 or 5 days here at glaxor haus and wrote a set of ~20 songs/pieces. i guess i could say that it would be nice to settle down w/ someone after such an undertakin', but i've none like that. such is my dilemma, and the price for freedom.

so, a choice is soon-approaching, and i feel the pull of moving on again... in the immortal words of allen choo, "see what happen..."

12-6-03

2003-12-06T18:27:00.000-08:00

it's dave brown on the telephone! earth to dave brown! earth to dave brown!
the twins are missin'!
ox and mo just did some plumbin', well, actually the indians danced in llano and... wati... wait... well, actually, ox did the plumbin' and mo held the flashlight.
j molin had a very, very good show last night at cafe mundi. it was just he and mr. doug snyder.
whoops! back to puttin' in the new diverter for the shower!

12-3-03

2003-12-03T18:26:00.000-08:00

"it's one o' clock and time for lunch
hum di dum di dee...
when the sun beats down and i lie on the bench
i can always hear them talk..."

-peter gabriel

i saw this woman, face coated in plaster, dancin' her ass off last nite in a local bar, and i realized that i had dreamed about her, but yet in my dream, she had been peter gabriel... i can hear the melodies of genesis and see bodies swaying in gyration, swaying as if being rocked by the ocean... or making sexy advances.

'twas good to hang w/ grego tonite, and sit around the camp fire and sing songs. good to see mommins again.

how the visible universe came into being and how it is maintained

2003-12-02T18:24:00.000-08:00

an invisible and continuous life
was believed to permeate all things,
seen and unseen.
this life manifests itself in two ways.
first, by causing to move:
all motion, all actions of mind or body,
are because of this invisible life;
second, by causing permanency
of structure and form,
as in the rock, the physical features
of the landscape, mountains, plains, streams,
rivers, lakes, the animals and man.
this invisible life
is similar to the will power
of which man is conscious
within himself-
a power by which things are brought to pass.
through this mysterious life and power
all things are related to one another
and to man, the seen to the unseen,
the dead to the living,
a fragment of anything
to its entirety.
this invisible life and power
was called wakonda

-fletcher and la flesche
"the omaha tribe"
twenty-seventh annual report of the bureau of american ethnology, 1911

i'm big star!

2003-12-01T18:23:00.000-08:00

I’m big star

small vibrations from cold molecules
these vibrations here create heat from the pocket lighter
and I’m hangin’ out w/ this little heat
now I’m cookin’
it’s givin’ me light heat
this is good.

And the other vibrations comin’ from the antennae up there
they’re from outer space
all the time they’re groovin’ to outer space vibrations
all the planets are sayin’
“Hey, I got more gravity than you
I’m a big star!
Yeah, I’m hangin’ out
‘cause I got lots and lots of mass
I’m about to ignite
because, actually I’m fully ignited as we speak
I’m gathering up NRG from everything around me
I’m gonna turn into a brown, hairy hole
but nit, another object comes rapidly toward me
it’s gonna make me explode
here my little vibration hangin’ out
I’m big star!
Then when I hit the planet
I’m a little vibration in the little antennae
it gathers solar, cosmic energy
yeah!"

-dr jarle lillemoen, kristiania, 1999

on the side of the main drag, christiania

2003-12-01T18:22:00.000-08:00

Ready man
voiced out
I’m playing with the toy
hee hee hee

it’s cool. It jumps around
and I loopi loopi
s____.

Flower girl
I like to eat candy
oh nice bouquet
I’ll take it

-dr. jarle lillemoen, aug., 1999

mr. bang

2003-12-01T18:21:00.000-08:00

Mr. Bang

mr. Bang is my name
and lately things don’t seem the same
been out o’my head, ‘bout a week
been shleppin’ lead, fallin’ over my beak

whenever someone speaks to me
I always answer gleefully

ahahahahhahahahahah

back behind the bedroom bar
seen my thing get nice and long
been spankin’ raw, been spankin’ raw
neckin’ daddie’s little red-haired maw

whenever someone speaks to me
I always answer gleefully

ahahhahhah

mr bang kryks
osterdurd
bank of mr
elaberent

in a big bric
rishenf
trees vbon
oerasciourist
kristiankeast
pref
undwerf
panter
spleesec
kroc ier
drferens
bet docblo
hensblood hemkommer

EXPLEX

blive came by the other day
movin’ bottles the ole fashion way
he’s pickin’ up pieces off the ground
seen my mother in the face of his hound

whenever someone speaks to me
I always answer gleefully

ahahahhaha

11-30-03

2003-11-30T18:20:00.000-08:00

well, it's the day after t-givin' weekend and the experience of t-givin' this year reminded me of somethin' harry buffalohead, grandpa, told me over twelve or thirteen years ago. he said that no one on this planet will love you more than your mother will, and he also said that he really missed his old folks, especially his mother.

there was family discussion concernin' my folks livin' by themselves out in the country. in the end, my sis heather made an offer to buy a duplex and move them into it in lubbock. my folks are up in their mid-70's and we all need to really think about their future.

after thanxgivin' dinner, everybody pretty much split except for me. i stayed a couple of days w/ the folks and it was very good and relaxin'. thanx for the new b-ball shoes! it made me realize how much i need to appreciate them now and how much more time i need to spend around them. i love them.

there was a family jam as usual on the nite before thanxgivin'. i was tuckered out from austin life and the drive, so they outlasted me. it was dad on lead and my three sisters singin' harmonies, and me, in the end, tryin' to keep w/ their classic-folk rock requests.

it's good to be back home in austin, though. bein' the only single guy amongst the fam, and the stress of my parents' future is a little dispelled.

11-25-03

2003-11-25T18:19:00.000-08:00

well, here it is, t-day, and i'm in austin, tx, 10:02am, and i've got 4 hours to drive to east tx, and i need to be there by 1:30pm, but i ain't worried. it's another t-day at the folks', which it'll be good to see um again.

it's been a great week! my cd release on 11/25 at the cactus cafe was a success. acts alien grass, groovin ground, grass, and even the bull creek singers were there. it felt eclectic, and the room was packed and buzzin' all nite. thanx to all who showed and participated and made the energy lite up, and to all who were screamin' "f___ off" to us at the end of the nite! thanx for the after-party j molin! thanx for the help ox, as usual! good sound jc! thanx for the gig, griff! ugi!

gg's havin' a good time hostin' the jam nite down at tambaleo (wed.'s) and last nite was no exception!

i really think jesus did indeed just share what little he had w/ those around him and it inspired others. i don't get off on this "pullin' rabbits out of the hat" stuff most fundamentalists talk about. doesn't make much sense to me...

country song, written morn of 11-18-03

2003-11-18T18:17:00.000-08:00

now that i'm here
all on my own
can't stop this ringin'
in my ears
i used to lean on you
i wasn't strong
and now you're gone
and i ponder what i've done wrong

i treated you poorly
i know that now
careful and cowardly
was my vow
but you hung there w/ me
somehow
but now you're gone
and i ponder over what i've done wrong

in the brown of the summer
the brown of your skin
makes me feel a blend
in the harsh of the winter
our bodies holding nearer and within
the caress of your hair
across my skin

the judgement i passed
upon you was harsh
i couldn't forgive you
not even myself
but you hung there w/ me
despite my fault
but you i've lost
and ponder what i've done wrong

we look for the simple
fix in our lives
a drug that'll stone you
and dull the senses
but i feel that the work
here is not done
and i ponder what i've done wrong

in the curve of your form
betraying the simple fact of love
in the beauty of silence
a siren screams out of my heart
the touch of your arm makes me start

they say that a feline's got several lives
they say that you can't kill a cat in disguise
if i could just have a phone call from you
baby, i wouldn't be so blue

and now i'll ask you
for your hand in mine
to leave behind darkness
and look for the shine
only a great one could judge us
so pure
and it's just me and you

if i could show you the life that i'm
wishing for you
could i turn back these blues?
in the brown of the summer
the brown of your skin takes me in...
side of you

11-18-03

2003-11-18T18:16:00.000-08:00

well, these days are bein' racked by a certain, self-inflicted and yet surprising, loneliness.
and, this in from jblunt:

Mo Pair, Sara Hammond & Victor Bustos @ Green Muse 519 Oltorf. I really didn't know what to expect except that anything Mo does is usually excellent. They did not disappoint. In a broad ranging display of vocal prowess Mo & Sara blended their voices beautifully. Original tunes and excellent acoustic interpretations of a couple of covers kept the small intimate crowd of fans and a few members of the jam band Groovin' Ground captivated. "Breathing Rain" written for Sarah by Mo and "Jane Said" were especially sweet. Instrumentation of A.G. is 1 electric and 2 acoustic guitars. See more about the artists at www.mopair.com & www.sarahamman.com Mo has a CD release party coming up at the Cactus Cafe on the 25th and Sara has CD's for sale now.

thanx john!

11-15-03

2003-11-15T18:15:00.000-08:00

a message from mason, the puppet-maker, videoist:
"ooking forward to hearing from you with my kalidascopic-telescopicl-ense of Universao Galactic Intelligence a.k.a "oogie"
Aloha from Pluto-yah_1"
i believe that i am also "ooking forward" this morning, just livin' and enjoyin' the feelin' of ugi! i recall hangin' w/ mason and the doc lillemoen behind cafe mundi, and smokin' the oakin' udi! he was showin' us his puppets back there. i believe it's high time to put together that "green, green pots" video that we discussed years ago. can anyone remember that story line?
today is ut football's last home game and i'm not, really not sure, that i can make it out to eastwoods park to hang w/ bill.
me and p meet for the 1st time today for my 1st guitar lesson, 3pm.
grass plays at jonathan's b-day party tonite- he's the milhouse guy ! yeah!

11-11-03

2003-11-11T18:14:00.000-08:00

well, just spent the morn doin' some promo. it seems like me and the boys are gettin' 'long pretty well at the new, refurbished glaxor haus. we've been talkin' alot of genesis lately and evan findin' all that genesis tab on line has got me pickin' up the guitar and learnin' w/ vigor.

lessons are goin' strong- i just picked up a new student, andrew templeton, who's is extraordinarily patient, and his rhythm's pretty impecable. on top of that, he seems to be a bit of a math whiz, which always helps musically. i think he's gonna be a scary player. and roy strausberger's (i work w/ two of his daughters, loreli and selina) workin' up my song, "song to my 1st lover" for my 2nd cd release at the cactus cafe on nov. 25, 2003. i keep tellin' him what a beautiful house he has. it's an amazing treat to go over there every week. the place is a castle! he's flyin' back into town to do the release, and he's gonna take the baby taylor i just acquired from evan w/ him so he can practice. he says he's about to hit six countries on business. woww....

things are busy- just tryin' to stay as healthy as possible and keep my feet out of the water and head above it.

also, i've been having e-mail correspondence w/ kevin brashier, and ole trumpet-playin' friend of mine from pearland, tx. he sent me pics of his children, who are beautiful, and the ole haus i grew up in (now on my desktop) which he and his wife are considering buying. now wouldn't that be somethin'??!!

an email to mr. bo limbaugh about bad medicine

2003-11-07T18:13:00.000-08:00

i have to put this in here. bo's a very good friend of mine who lives in locust grove, ok w/ his lovely wife, kim. they have been supportive and caring for so damn long. this is what i wrote today, nov. 7, 2003:

man, have you heard the new bad medicine cd? the guys down here are flippin' over it. nico gave me a copy and it sounds like american indian black sabbath or something. the 10th track is an old, old song- an ole ponca song, i'd say, but i know other tribes sing it. thing is, i've been wantin' to sing that song that way for so long, and finally somebody went out and did it, man. the boys say joe fish leads the group. hearin' this song like that made me scream and cry, all at the same time. the stuff is so raw, man! it's not pretty- it's very ugly, very bad.
mout

a powerful quote out of miles

2003-11-05T18:12:00.000-08:00

This is in reference to the death of Miles Davis' father:

"I didn't think he had looked good when I saw him, and after I thought back over the last visit - going back over every image I could remember of him - I remember him having that certain look that people - spiritual, country people - have in their eyes when something is very wrong. He had that look when I was saying goodbye, that sad look of 'I probably won't be seeing you any more' in his eyes."

-Miles, The Autobiography

11-5-03

2003-11-05T18:10:00.000-08:00

this feels like a critical moment in my life, because I'm not all that well these days, struggling w/ stomach upsets and stress pains- and i just landed my 2nd cd release at the best sounding room in the city, the cactus cafe. i had to go thru a few mind games w/ griff for it, but i got it, god bless him. been down there over 20 years i guess, and that place has a hold over him. his staff is so great, too.

it's kind of quiet now, w/ the dog and marty gone and the twins out on the town somewhere. i hope to start taking lessons from p. pollini soon, and i just gained another student this week, i believe, which puts me up to my personal max of 5- and that's kinda where i wanna keep it. the miles davis autobiography is still kickin' me, although i've not read it much lately. there's a lot of promo work to be done for this cd release- it's only 3 weeks away. i plan to cruise the town sat. and pass out fliers and handbills; make some phone calls.

the personal life's rough... i should probably go see my folks more...

the haus is so clean! and dustin went and got a big rug to put in the livin' room! i think we've got a no-shoes-in-the-haus rule happenin'. dustin and i played "21" this morn, and that really made me realize just how out of shape i am. then we went to go see dustin's half-brother, shane, govinda, the great musician. what a fine haus and studio! eclectic and cultured. man, what a town this is that there's many cats like him around! just right down the street from each other practically! all special, unique, extraordinary in their own way. kevin gant lives right around here somewhere, and ole paul klemperer's right down the road.

11-1-03

2003-11-01T18:09:00.000-08:00

well, marty and rocco left glaxor haus today. it was mighty tearful between ox, marty, rocco, and me. i thought it might get out of hand for a minute there. marty insists that we come up to visit on the northwest- i will try to make a run of gigs up that way. the dog was strapped in the back seat and knew somethin' was goin' down and makin' an awful noise about it. i will miss marty for sure. the dog, well, i miss him for about 1/2 an hour- what a mess that little beast was. still, there were some fun and precious moments. he'd always come into my room and sleep there in the mornin's after marty had cruised.

it will be nice to share the haus w/ beings w/ almost the same sentiments as mine. already, the living room is spacious enuf for a band to rehearse and there's talk of ebaying all 3 tv's. tv is something i've not understood in some time. i can understand an occasional movie, however.

today was also austin pow wow down at the tony berger center. i showed up, mainly to get my camera from grant, one of the headsmen of the gulf coast gourd club. glenda, or kay as she likes to be called, was very, very good to me today as she always is. she's a ponca that lives in houston. and, big news: nico pena will marry her daughter. now that's a shocker. i wish the best for both of them. the pow wow appeared to be a success. i got to have a free meal and stand/observe the parade-in from the floor.

grant and i checked out cafe mundi and agreed that it wouldn't be a good place to have a gourd dance (because of the alcohol), but instead a 49 should be thrown there. won't james mize be excited! i think i may call him now.

then i met wade and the twins down at ruta maya. wade's an old friend from pearland, tx- my home town. he now lives in austin w/ wife lita and his adorable 5-year old, scout. she had quite a time playing w/ a dog that looked like spuds mckenzie down there.

i also ran into jeff, the fellow who i always run into down at the coffee hauses. he's studying chinese medicine and gave me some tips on my current stomach ailments and stress pains. he goes by the name zulu sometimes.

i guess the twins and dave brown did some trackin' at thomas' studio today for the groovin ground album.

after ruta maya, i went on to the state job to put in some hours. fast tony called up and gave me a gig down at what-used-to-be-called the 503 coffee bar, but i forgot... yes, i forgot what it's called now. fast tony's the best. an ole buddy from the kerrville folk festival. we go back to '96, i think, when we were both out there for the solid month (or, almost, in my case). in fast tony's case, it's always been a solid month that year and all that's followed. a true trooper he is, that fast tony. i'm gonna help him put together a bio for south-by-southwest this year.

then i was supposed to meet w/ will blackmon, who's puttin' together a business plan for me, but i got too tired and stressed out. a long walk around the state job campus is always good, and i took and extra-long one today. but, still, i was feeling fatigued. lookin' back on the day, i can see why- but it is just like another day for mo.

so, i cancelled w/ will and came home to do one of my favorite things: soak in a hot tub of water and epsom salts and listen to the grateful dead's "workin' man...," i can't rightly remember what that album's called, something about lamentations. anyway, it's a damn good soakin' album, and you should try it sometimes, so mo feels much better now and will crash soon.

genesis conference dream

2003-10-30T18:08:00.000-08:00

It feels that creativity can spawn from any empty page.

In this dream, I was at a concert honoring past, great, art-rock bands. For some reason I wasn’t watching the concert, I guess because I knew what was coming next, or I thought I knew. But, then I realized I was missing Genesis, so I went to the auditorium and they were just wrapping up one of my favorite classics; I think it was “Supper’s Ready,” perhaps. The auditorium was almost cleared, however, of people; there were a few freaks just bobbing their heads. I got to see Peter Gabriel, get heckled a little as he left the stage, about practicing. He said, “we practiced just a few days ago.”

For the last scene, these green-faced, long-faced riders (they looked a little like greys, perhaps) were prancing their mounts (horses) out in the audience in this very delicate, choreographed dance. Horses were side-stepping one another and such.

How very strange that I had my last Genesis conference dream exactly one month ago.

10-30-03

2003-10-30T18:06:00.000-08:00

it's 11pm here at glaxor haus and i'm afraid i done outdone myself again. the stomach's ailin' a bit and i had to work miss... i mean, miss work today 'cause of it. i think it's time to go to the doc- pretty cool that i got some health insurance thru the state job, even though i had to start paying on half of it, starting this past month, 'cause i'm a part-timer and the texas legislature's penalizin' us for king george's war.

anyway, last weekend was an eye-opener for gg, being around and seein' all those very pro acts. del castillo tore the roof off in corpus, man. i got to meet their manager and dropped him a cd- he also works w/ zz top; name's dave of lone wolf productions.

tomorrow i do my little montessory school run- singin' ole songs (and 7's birds) to the little kids 30 minutes every week. the good news is that i'm up to 5 students now, as of today, i believe! that'll leave me tuckered out on a mon.

and gg plays this halloween festival tomorrow. here's the link, as i'm a bit too tired and sick to fix this message up all html-like, know what i'm sayin'?

http://www.austinhauntedforest.com/

so, yo- drop a line, if you dig what you read.
mout

zen in the defensive drivin' class

2003-10-26T18:05:00.000-08:00

I was young and had to take defensive drivin' in my home town of Pearland, TX. It was an all-day thing in this little room in a strip mall. Well, to kick things off, the woman runnin' the class makes everyone take a turn and tell why they are there. It comes to this older man's turn and he says that he was caught speeding over near 288. He was going 56 in a 55. The cop had told him that he (the cop) was having a bad morning and so the man could protest if he wished.

But, this man said, if he had protested, then he wouldn't be in that room that morning, taking defensive driving, with all of those wonderful people. Now, how 'bout that, huh?!

Weird dream at Jack's

2003-10-26T18:03:00.001-08:00

So this woman I work w/ at the state job, Lindsey Capps, was doing a report on my involvement on American Indian culture. So, I was talking to her, and I was also working at some camp. I recall having to kick a rock for a very long distance, as some sort of requirement or something.

Oh... it had to do w/ creating some kind of road w/ an old friend of mine named Beckman. Needless to say, there's a fella here in Austin named Cummings who looks and acts so much like Beckman that I'm beginning to call him Beckman. I wonder if that's OK.

So, anyway, Beckman and I get in this strange vehicle that I think we created, and I insist that we always take this same path, though it's off-trail and into a field, a field that is meadow-like, and oh how I like meadows...

Back to Lindsey. I wasn't sure I was giving her what she wanted. It was my story, or my involvement in American Indian culture, and being a bit of a hob, it wasn't, like, authentic culture like an ethnographer would tell it, like w/ objective views and all. So, I was concerned, but she didn't seem to be too worried. The report was due in two weeks.

I was filling up a picture album for her. And, Andy Snell, who is an old friend of mine, who is conservative Christian to the right side, I think, still, had just starting dancing war dance and had a full regalia, w/ leggings, roach, the works, you know. And I had a picture of him, and this, I felt, was a very important point to make to Lindsey.

At the same time, a family reunion was going on- and this is the best part, I think. This small child that looked Indian, came up to me in the cafeteria; he was my relative, you see, but I had just met him and didn't remember him. Well, he just takes my milk and begins to squirt it all over the place and throws it on the ground and stomps on it. So, I jump him and pull him to the ground and get in his face and yell, repeatedly, "What the f___ are you doing!?" So, he runs back to the reunion to say what happened, distressed. And, I hear about it later at the reunion, and I hear about said word that I decided to cryptate (I'm using Dave-Brownish there). The relatives at the reunion felt that I'd done something wrong, especially w/ the language... well, some of them did. But I was all into defending myself, I remember...

10-26-03

2003-10-26T18:03:00.000-08:00

Here I am, 'round 8:30am, crashed at Jack's. Jack is a very nice guy, and runs lights w/ Azar in Groovin Ground. It has been some weekend, and I'm enjoying the gypsy-like status. Everyone took Fri. off (like they have jobs) and went to Tyler, TX to play Elmo's. That was fun, and we seemed to make more than we thought. We all crashed Scott's, making his floor space one continuous matt of GG bodies. His dog was very cute. I tried to take her w/ us.
Then, we journeyed back to Austin and played this fantastic gig at Antone's on Sat. nt., openin' for Oteil Burbridge of Allman Brothers, Vida Blue (I think), and Aquarian something project fame. They knew how to jam- and the guitar player, Mark, seemed really nice and humble. They all seemed that way. Oteil could rip, man.
Now, today, Jack and I journey to Corpus Christi to play at the BB King festival. GG has had some good shows this weekend, boy! I'm goin' w/ Jack and missin' the bus 'cause Jack needs to be back in Austin Mon. morn as well. The rest of the band drove thru the nite and are crashed right now. The gig is at 4pm- and I'm very excited as Del Castillo is on after us- old friends of mine who've done very well lately, and I shall enjoy seeing again. Hopefully, we can get the Brothers Castle on the stage to jam w/ us- man can they rip, together. Then, the rest of the band's gonna party on the beach, w/ Dean, brother of Nick Chambers, GG drummer, providing his expert chef skills! Now, I'm gonna miss that!

10-20-03

2003-10-20T18:00:00.000-07:00

The trippiest thing about this is that I was seriously trippin’ on these recordings (I wasn’t on anything), but I was coming back from a good batch of lessons, in which I taught three at the Strausberger residence (God bless ‘em) and I put on Navajo Peyote songs, Vol. IV, Indian House Records, and just became amazed at the sounds and musicianship of the whole project. I was screaming at times in the car. It’s as if I’ve been in prison for the past 12 years, without a tape deck in my vehicle, missing the essential tool in my workshop. I immediately, upon entering Glaxor haus, proclaimed my amazement at the music of Wilson Aronilth Jr. and Hanson Ashley (Navajo) to the fellas (Ox, Marty, Dboz), and began typing up the literature within said recording. This literature can be read under the “Dine's Peyote Story." Upon finishing the copy, I learned that these recordings were made on this same day, 24 years ago.

10-19-03

2003-10-19T17:51:00.000-07:00

another wild weekend past- indeed. bummer that i had to miss j molin's weddin' this past sun., but it was a good thing to see ole dave long down at the gulf coast dance this past sat. night with his fiancee, misty. man, that dance was somethin'- ole al santos sang me into the ground and i can barely talk today...

this i recall- i had a special at the dance, since i was the lead sinner... i mean, singer. i asked al to lead out the song, and i don't think he could have picked a more appropriate one. it was that kaukoo song- and i have mispelled kaukoo, i know, but it's the best i can do now. they're a kiowa family, and i was told that harry buffalohead, who was known to me as grandpa, and i miss callin' him that, made that song and the old man bought it from him. well, i was dancin' there, and grandpa was very close to me in the early 90's, and that's the song al brought out- it is a classic-soundin' tune, sounds very old. as i was dancin' there, reminiscin' about grandpa and my time in white eagle in the early 90's, i envisioned a beam of light comin' out of the drum and its musicians in the middle of the floor- a straight, column of light shooting up to the ceiling...

the nite before i was down, no, up in dallas w/ groovin ground. we opened for mellowship at the lakewood bar and grill and had a mighty fine time. thanx to those guys for havin' us, and to bud who put us up.

it was paul pollini (gg's lead guitar player) and i who ventured down to pasadena from dallas, and then left the dance directly to come back to austin. p. and i had many a musical talk and a few banters on that trip! it was good to hang w/ him- always is.

another peyote story

2003-10-15T09:21:00.000-07:00

I remember waking up in the mornings to the sounds of Peyote music. I would sleep in the back room of Grandpa’s house on an air mattress that Travis had received for Christmas. I had to blow this mattress up every night for it had a hole in it.

On some mornings I would awaken to this music. They were recordings Grandpa had made of himself. I remember hearing the fast drum pulses and the fascination I had of the pitch changes in the drum before the songs would start. Before a song would start, the drummer would lower the pitch of the drum and slow the tempo a little, then bring tempo and pitch back up to its original fervor. I can’t recall if there was a rattle in these recordings. In fact, I don’t know where these recordings are today.

I would walk through Grandpa’s living room and into the kitchen where he would be leaning upon the back of his antique, wooden chair, smoking Camel straights. There was always a white, Hudson Bay blanket draped over the back of his chair and he rested his forearms on this.

Commonly he would burn cedar in his small, cast-iron skillet on the gas stove. He would just put the cedar (that we had gathered on the way) in the skillet and turn on the burner. In our initial meeting with Grandpa, he had told us to get him some of that “red-berried cedar” down in San Marcos. I had gone down there and looked for it, but had never found it.

I recall how comforting it was waking up to Peyote music and burnt cedar permeating the house. I was not so sure about Peyote religion, however, because I was very Christian in my thoughts and beliefs at that time, at least in the Southern-Baptist feel of the word “Christianity.” Travis and I would often read from the book of Matthew at nights before we went to sleep.

I was trying to learn how to sing Ponca music, specifically pow wow music, so I could take back what I learned to members of the Boys Scouts who often butchered this kind of music. While I was there, however, my purpose altered somehow. It became a reality that there was too much to learn and preserve and the information was too scarce and fast becoming extinct, right in my very lifetime. Too much was already gone, of course.

A note here – I wrote this in the mid-90’s. It is, today, Oct. 15, 2003, and although I agree with a majority of that last paragraph, I would argue today that the information is not that extinct. Grandpa used to say, “you might have all them tapes, but what good will they do you if you don’t have them in your head?” So, I have learned that there are countless recordings of this music everywhere, and there’s a vast catalogue of the language written down. It just takes time and energy to divest into it.

However, it is still true today that in and around White Eagle, OK, every old person that dies takes a piece of the old language and culture w/ them.

Now back to the story…

Grandpa had told me once that if I wanted to learn Ponca songs and ways, then I would have to learn the Peyote way. I was not too excited about this at the time.

I remember one Saturday in the fall of 1991 Grandpa told me that they were having a meeting for him, since he was sick. I had learned that the Ponca Peyote chapter held meetings for members of their community who were ailing. But there was also a dance that night down at the community center. So Grandpa and I went to the dance and when we got back home at about 11pm, he told me that he would wake me up at 3:30am to go out there to the meeting. Sure enough, at 3:30am, he rapped on my door, I got ready, and we drove off into the cold, OK night.

I was still driving the little, yellow Tercel at that time and he took me on many backroads, most of them hidden in fields of crops, unpaved and riveted. I would not have remembered the path the next day. That was one thing about Grandpa. He taught me how to be attentive while I drove and to learn to use the four directions and realize which way was north. Whenever we went somewhere unfamiliar to me, I would have to gaze at him peripherally while I drove because he would indicate the next direction with a hand signal or a pointing-of-the-lips.

So that night he directed me into the backwoods of the OK night. We finally came to a clearing with a few carts parked in the grass and a lone tipi. It was a cold, Autumn night. It was a scene to remember, with a fire in the tipi and shadows of the people within cast upon the canvas walls. And they were singing! Those same songs I would hear waking up sleepily in Grandpa’s house, along with the sweet aroma of cedar.

We pulled up next to the other cars and sat there for a little while. Grandpa identified one of the voices as Roland No Ear’s. I was cold for I had not brought a jacket. The songs would continue, one after another, and then someone would pray out loud, usually Don Patterson. Finally, Don walked out of the tipi and spoke to Grandpa, who was now standing outside my car, leaning on the passenger door. They spoke in low voices, then Don asked Grandpa if I was going in and he replied no. Then Grandpa gave me his wind breaker and went with Don in the tipi. It was strange, like he was entering some domain I could not comprehend. Some other world I could not perceive, when he disappeared inside the tent. Actually he sat in a metal folding chair at the entrance.

The meeting went on all night. I had to wrap myself up in an old, decorated rug that was really a floor mat to maintain some kind of warmth. I leaned the driver’s seat back and drifted in and out of sleep, allowing the songs to work their magic on me in my dreams. It was an experience enough just to be there.

By daybreak, they emerged from the tipi. They were all very friendly Poncas and I met many of them. For their breakfast they all ate pounded meat in small, plastic baggies. I was even offered some of this meal and was surprised to find that it was seasoned with sugar. “Just like cotton candy,” as Grandpa would say. We drove away from the site, and, of course, Grandpa had to give me directions back to the house.

10-15-03

2003-10-15T09:19:00.000-07:00

things are going good. the bozarth twins are about to move into the house. dboz is in here already. marty and rocco the magical and yet mischevious beast are movin' out and goin' up to the northwest. man, dboz is still sleepin'. i'm gonna get his ass up and feed him here in a minute, just like the magical and yet mischevious beast that he is.

last weekend was break-neck and crazy as usual, with the zappa hoot night on wed., gg in dallas on thur., gg in odessa on fri., and gg in lubbock on sat. i'm not sure, exactly, how i made it, but i reckon there's folks doin' this all the time.

gg had a rehearsal last nt., w/ nick in absence. we worked on an ole piece of jarle's and mine that i have named "blive's ride," that name given to the piece the time dboz and i were hangin' over at forshage's place after the pecan street festival. that was a good day- a sunday. dboz, callie, and i ended up over at karla's and thomas', celebrating karla's birthday. the evenin' turned out to be a songwriter round, w/ doug snyder, j molin, karla's ma and pa (what incredible spanish songs they sang!), karla, all passin' around the guitar. could've gone much longer that it did. i had brought karla the gift of boone's, which was gone by the end of the nite.

anyway, i guess "blive's ride" went alright last nt. i gotta put some form of arrangment together next time we try it out. it's an instrumental, w/ 5 parts. that was somethin' the doc, jarle, was always good at- arrangements.

9-27-03

2003-09-27T09:09:00.000-07:00

hard to believe it's almost at the end of 2003. it seemed like the 2000 computer scare was yesterday, as well as the two-tower disaster in 2001. i remember that day, sitting at home unemployed, and the shock of the entire morning... i ended up trying to be around friends as much as possible that day. thanx joanne and ken, jarle of grass' employers.

lots of things up these days. just got finished w/ a new record, yori; groovin ground drove in from port a. today, after the gig at neptune's, where my guitar crapped out; the zappa hoot nite's on oct. 8. groovin ground's playin' antone's this fri., which is very ugi. grass is cutting a new record and all the tracks are ready. we just need money. ain't that a bitch and a truth all around these days. vic, sara, and i are still doin' gigs as alien grass, 'bout one a month down at the triple crown in san marcos usually.

bob of goliath organization loaned me a book yesterday, while we were on the rd. to port a. it's titled "miles," and is miles davis' autobiography. man, is it killin' me. everybody musical should read this thing. just a few drops of musical wisdom, and some very revealing things on the scene back then. the musical droplets come, interspersed between his lingo.

right now i'm listening back on the recordings that the bozarth boys and i did back in dec., 2002, under the name "mozarth." i'm really, really liking what the fellas did on yori. thanx fellas!

zen from uncle marvin

2003-09-19T09:17:00.000-07:00

ZEN FROM UNCLE MARVIN

It was the weekend of my parents’ 45th wedding anniversary and my Uncle Marvin was in town (in East Texas where my parents now reside). He’s been a farmer all his life in the panhandle of Texas. He has perhaps spent many introspective hours out in the wilds of that prairie up there.

Well, I was sleeping on the ground as there were no beds left available in my parents’ house. He roused me in the morning and brought me a cup of coffee. I thanked him for such an action. He said, “you know, Marvin (I am named after him), this may be the only time in our lives that I am able to do this for you.”

a peyote experience

2003-09-01T09:16:00.000-07:00

I sat still most of the night. I tried to find positions that would be more comfortable, but I had remembered what Royce had said about sitting on the knees and how that showed endurance and vigilance as well as respect. But it was too hard to stay that way. I was just all cramped up.

The fire was there in the center, crackling. A moon shaped alter out of earth had been formed around half the perimeter of the fire pit and the father peyote rested on it. It was dark, with only dancing fire forms cast about the walls of the tipi. Everything felt swimmy, almost like the stream that had engulfed me was running over me. It wasn't cold, just the sensation of being pulled too and fro and yet immobile. The music! Oh yes, the music! It went on and on and on. I found myself emphasizing the syncopation quietly, and raising my hands up in dance-like gestures. I would look about at the others, and they also sat there, quietly, contemplating. There was not any talking. It was a very serious prayer meeting, and I had not felt so devoted to such an activity in a long time.

My throat hurt. That's why we were there. I had gone to the White Eagle Methodist Church that past Sunday and had run into Dwight Buffalohead and told him about this congested right ear that I had been experiencing for over a year. He had said, "we should have a meeting for you."

I had begun listening to peyote music a few years back, but the issue of pagan implications, coupled with a fundamentalist Christian upbringing, still kept me at a distance. But the music! The fast rhythm of that little drum! And how did they change the pitch of it like that? And the rattle! The voice, forever in an ongoing syncopated drone! I was quite fascinated, and listened, and listened. Then I started my own attempts in singing the music. I found I could shake the rattle in half time and sing, but it was difficult to shake the rattle consistently and calmly, right in time with the drum. The old men on the recordings could do it, but I couldn't. Well, it depended… it seemed most singers had their own style of shaking the rattle.

I was honored that Dwight would suggest this. I asked how we would go about doing it. He said I should go speak with Roland No Ear, and take him some tobacco. So we did that.

I met Dwight down at the Ponca tribal building the night they were going to have a hand game. Roland was there. He was a rounded man, definitely overweight. His large face displayed pot marks and when he took off his shades, the beady eyes were practically hidden under the flesh. He always wore shades, even when it was dark. He knew my name. His speech, well…, it's hard to describe. His voice was always really low, and he spoke with a broken kind of english, a mumbled jumble, words rolling into each other, unnecessary articles skipped, and occasional long-winded grunts. Sometimes the talk would roll into emphasis, and heightened pitch. In conclusion, it was funny to listen to. He walked with a cane and did not get around well at all. And, in coincidence with his name, he was losing his hearing. To talk to him you had to shout into his face.

We sat there outside the tribal building, and a few came by, but not enough to hold the hand game, so we left. We drove to Dwight's house.

Can I tell you of the serenity of driving down a dirt road in north central Oklahoma? The roads are crisscrossed, running north-south, east-west. They go on for miles, with an occasional empty 24-pack box lying on the side. Sometimes they would dip and rise, but there was always farm land about, flat, stretching endlessly into the sky. It was good to stop the truck, and get out and walk into a field and just look out, out into the distance, so very far away. It was good to realize how much space there was! It was good to be out in the field and rotate your body about, feeling earth, wind, light, heat, space!

Dwight's relatives had been given this land. The house was old and in disrepair. But the yard! The grandest old trees, and well maintained. There was a place to set up the tipi-what they called a fireplace. There was a rack to place the wood to keep the fire burning all night, right outside the door of the tipi. There was a place to split the wood into the proper lengths. It was good to walk among the trees and breath the air heavily.

We sat on the porch and discussed the meeting. I gave the tobacco to Roland, and he told me what I needed to get. Food, mainly. He even listed the crackers by brand name. And a few gifts would be needed.

After all the preparation, there we were, sitting up all night, praying, and singing. I felt honored that they would pray for my throat. I was appreciative and humbled and quiet. Roland sat across from the father peyote. He was the roadman. There would be a break in singing, and we'd pass the medicine around, taking a handful of powdered peyote, and drinking it down with the peyote tea. I felt sick. I wanted to throw up, but couldn't. Sometimes during these breaks, there would be talk, but it was always subdued and in reverence. Sometimes Roland would get up and hobble over to me. He would doctor me with his own peyote, sometimes placing it into his mouth and rolling it into a ball before giving it to me. The next day they told me I ate a lot of peyote.

We passed the rattle and stick around. When it would come to me, I'd sing four of the eight or so songs I knew, and I don't believe I sang them well, but no one was really taking notes. Besides, that wasn't the issue. This was all for my throat.

I longed for the night to end. I looked up through the smoke hole to see stars, and wished that the light would come, wished that Jesus would return in all his glory.

Near the morning, Roland hobbled over to me and tried to drive the thing out of me that was within me. It didn't work this time.

When the morning came, we feasted on water, corn, candy and pounded meat. The sun did shine through the smoke hole! I had made it through the night, and now it was time to relax. They passed around the articles that had been used during the night. Every one touched them, and treated them with reverence-the rattle, the stick, the drum, the stones, the hide; everyone drank from the water drum.

I stayed in the tipi most of the time the next day. Roland came back inside the tipi once. We sat around and hummed old Ponca songs. We got to one song, what I had heard called as "No Ear's song."

Now, an old man, Harry Buffalohead, years ago had told me what this song was about. He said a party of Ponca warriors had routed these Sioux. There was only one of them left, so they lopped his head off, apparently in the Ponca fashion. His head was rolling on the ground. It rolled up to No Ear, a Ponca warrior, and No Ear looked down upon it. He must have thought those eyes blinked, for he jumped back in surprise, or so the story goes. Anyway, the other warriors saw No Ear's startled reaction and laughed at him. Then they made that song for him. So, although it was a big joke, it was still an honor that he had received a song, that his name would be called out through the ages, and that his family would dance with pride and vigor.

However, Roland put a different twist on this song. He complied that there was indeed only one Sioux warrior left, but the Ponca warriors had done something entirely different to him…

"They kind of took him and bent him over, like that…, "Roland said, making his hand into an L-formation. "Then they went up to him and went like this…" The moment Roland said that, he began to make pelvic, thrusting maneuvers with his body, as if he had just straddled his mate, doggy-style.

Now, if you can remember the way I described Roland, and picture him in the sacred tipi describing a good well... you know what..., perhaps you are now laughing as hard as I was then!

muskrat!

2003-09-01T09:15:00.000-07:00

when the muskrat came upon the space gun, he inadvertantly tripped the trigger. muskrat was instantaneously anthropomorphized and ran off into the woods, somewhat-oblivious!

muskrat tore thru the woods, running at a rampant pace. at first he did not realize how his forelegs and hindlegs had increased so much, almost 15 times! and how his claws had extended and become strangely-jointed! all systems within him had increased such! his head was this beast-like effigy of something out of a b-grade wolf-man movie; yet, there was a subtle feeling of innocense, smashed into reality- a kind of kindness, one might say...

2-7-02

2002-02-07T09:08:00.000-08:00

well, i retreated back into the days of my youth for sure tonite. i went to my buddy tony ionescu's haus (notice the germanized house) and played a war game, an old avalon hill game actually. it's called "d-day," and is a reinactment on a game board of that day and the weeks that followed in 1944 that eventually led to the fall of nazi germany. i was the germans, and i got stomped! it took me back to the days when dave long, john garrison, and i used to stay up all nite playin' those silly games, like, 15-20 yrs. ago! and rocky too! axis and allies almost every weekend. damn, what big geeks we were. and, i missed woodwork's 1st appearance at la zona rosa tonite just to play this geek game. i figured, if i didn't slip back into my own history tonite, it may never happen again; and boy was it fun! boy oh boy oh boy!

2-5-02

2002-02-05T09:07:00.000-08:00

well, i'm doin' better, but it's still there. i really think that this big drumstick rocky gave me at a dance back in early jan. contributed to my condition, as i'm not one to use the left side of my torso. more on big drumsticks, drums, and rocky later. he'll probably reappear in many of my writings; rocky will, that is. at any rate, last weekend felt like grass' greatest road show ever! we had a good time and we made money doin' it. thank the stars for mr. derek morris of bright star catalogue for fillin' in in jarle's absence and totally bustin' ass! oh, i could go on and on i guess. we played sweet eugene's in college station and the logon cafe in beaumont and it was great to see fans comin' out, and, to be honest, buyin' merch! the music felt great too! carlos, derek, and i watched each other close and grooved well! grass appears to have a future indeed!

1-30-02

2002-01-30T09:05:00.000-08:00

whew - still havin' some kind of ulcer troubles. now, if you're reading this, you're probably thinking that you'd rather not hear about mo's ulcer troubles, but i suppose this is a journal, and it's chiefly on my mind right now. damn, feels hard to write a journal and not be too personal about it. i know what i'll do. or, at least consider it. seems like decent or even good ideas never come to fruition if the proper time and work ethic is not put into place. my idea is to finish that book i started 10 years ago about staying w/ harry buffalohead, renowned (at least in some circles) ponca indian singer who lived in ponca city, ok. i could drop the entries in this here little journal. now wouldn't that be somethin'?

1-25-02

2002-01-25T22:23:00.000-08:00

Well, these are hard times a little bit. Looks like I've run into complications, physical; the one worthy of public mentioning is a potential ulcer. whew. Looks like no more coffee, beer, or smoke for mo. I've teamed up w/ Tavis Gillespie - and it looks like we shall start a new band, and call it "MOTA," in the spirit of the spiraling Grass. The haus is being reworked, as new tenants shall move in. I'll go get x-rays today. I've started back at my old job at the State, part-time, which totally kicks ass! Derek's project, "Bright Star Catalogue," is surfacing well. Lots goin' on. The singin' group is doin' lots of gigs - and there's one this weekend in Arlington. Mr. Tim Armstrong shall be the lead. If my health holds out, I'll be up there supporting him.