A composition I made for piano, violin, and guitar as part of a little project I’m doing where I make music based on the first letter of that day of the week. Today is wild Wednesday and I used some old footage from Congaree National Park for this ‘dance like’, ‘….neonclassicalish’…., ‘suite….in G or…C minor…
Rejoice for I have spared you my caterwauling. It’s purely instrumental caterwauling tonight. Having the damnedst time trying to gather my time into neat enough bundles to bring a decent soup to a boil. Mayhaps this coming week will yield heartier fare. Carry on.
Will probably put up an instrumental version cause the vocals are so ghastly. I kept them in mostly because the timing of this crap take was better than anything I could come up with this evening. I’m satisfied with the violin and can tolerate the guitar. I’m putting this steam of consciousness in because it’s what I do.
The driving rain
It fell into the
Well
Through the rock
That I broke
With
All I had to sell
For a cahnce
To catch
Heavens
Tears
Fill me up
With the awry years
Till I burst into the river
Till we all reach the sea
Percolating through the soil
Springing branches
And the dewdrops are braking through the rock
Little dewdrops are
Braking through the
Braking through the rock
Bursting through the soil
Blossom yet another canyon for forward
O dew
O flower
So, I was practicing violin (poorly) from a Mel Bay book I picked up. One of the songs is Gavotte by some fop named Praetorius. Being that I’m about as naturally musical as a coked up bobcat trapped in well full of nettles I needed to hear the bloody thing.
Lo! What wonderfully snooty shit this be.
Here’s what comes to mind from the thumbnail:
Behold wench! Yonder peasant falling!
Ho!
What luck to have witnessed his falstaff frame thusly collapse!
Yay tis good to be rich!
Soothe, thou may grab me by the feline!
Say what you will about these fops but at least they had style. If my grandmother is to be believed I have some kind of count in my lineage. But he would have been Polish or Ukrainian or something. So it doesn’t count. =) I’m so fucking clever.
Nonetheless, I’m bringing back feudalism! With the current disparity between rich and poor we’re already there! Why not add some style to the mix.
So what is your choice?! Will you ride forth as part of my Noble Order of Asshole Knights? Or be oppressed most elegantly!
Thy Gallant Lords!
I know you yups pay to pick strawberries but won’t actually have your kids do it as a job. Well, I’m here to help.
Being a lettered man and a patron of the symphonies it is my sacred duty to tie you back to the land!
No longer will you wish for agrarian bliss. No longer will you pine!
Your toil will sustain high culture, institutions of learning that will once more take more than a pulse to enter, and wars we won’t lie about.
As Noble Asshole Knights we don’t spread freedom to gain oil. We just take land cause it’s there and we’re probably better stewards than those hippies anyway. Plus its great fun to smack your neighbor!
Yes! Under the Noble Order of Asshole Knights the stars will shine brighter, and your beer will taste better, for you will have worked inordinately hard to sustain douchebags as is the lot of man!
Baron Von Douchebag ESQ III Pictured in traditional Cheeki Breeki Royal Besocks
Another Late Evening Jam…check out Nick Drake if you want to hear some fantastic music by someone who actually took the trouble to practice singing.
Don’t You Know the Ring? (Alternate Title)
Lyrics
The faintest spark
Within the dark
Would hold us fast
And pull us into harbour
A melody is our trusted port
This subtle home
Ancient report
Sound of the depths
Wiser…deeper than the sea
Here we sit and here we sing
A never ending ring
Bells that chime pulled by the rope
The faintest spark called Quasimodo
Oh don’t you know
Don’t say you don’t know
Quasimodo
The faintest spark
Within the dark
Would hold us fast
Pull us into the harbour
Into the harbour harbouring harbouring
A ring ring ring a ring a ring ring
O don’t you know the ring
The Fractal Journal 