Sunday morning quiet…
It’s always one of my favorite times, bringing back memories as a kid when I would get up before everybody else and have the house basically to myself. Nothing expected and nothing to be said. Go out to the road to get the paper and read the comics. Maybe have some hot chocolate to dunk my toast in. Safe in my home with my parents sleeping nearby…
A child’s tranquility, seemingly so easy and natural. We add and absorb so many things that change us from that easy and natural state. You can spend your whole life trying to recapture that feeling, that momentary bliss, but unfortunately it is as elusive as the fog. But every so often we experience a flash of moments that seem reminiscent of those times before everything didn’t seem like old news, before everything had been seen or heard–that feeling of newness and wonder that only a kid can truly feel.
Man, is that a good feeling. It can sustain you for days and days until the memory of it dissolves and is forever lost.
Hope to find it again soon.
This Sunday I thought I’d share a performance from one of my favorites, Richard Thompson. This is him performing his Sunset Song at the Goldmark Gallery, an art gallery in Uppingham, England, that often hosts musical performances for small groups. It’s a great version of a lovely song. I chose the painting at the top, a piece called The Anticipation from back in 2003, to go with this song. It’s a painting that always catches my eye.
Enjoy and have a great Sunday…
There’s been a huge resurgence as of late in interest in the music and life of the great Nina Simone, who died in 2003 at the age of 70. You hear her music on all sorts of movie and television soundtracks and commercials. There has been a couple of documentaries made of her life ( this includes the highly acclaimed What Happened, Miss Simone? on Netflix) and there are a number of big screen biopics in the works.
I have always been a big fan of the movies. I’ve written here in the past how I will often paint while an old movie plays in the studio, especially some of the older classics that were often based on great ideas and great dialogue. They are not distracting in most cases and it’s easy to pull thought and emotion from these films that finds its way into my work. It’s hard to not want to inject more feeling into whatever I am at work on when I listen to some of the lines from The Grapes of Wrath or so many other great films.
I showed this short video here about six years back. It’s a compilation of morphing self portraits from Vincent Van Gogh put together by Phillip Scott Johnson that I found intriguing then and now.
Finding some sort of joy in one’s life might well be the answer to most of life’s questions. It nourishes us and gives meaning to the moments of our lives. It makes us want to face the new day.
I was listening this morning to the song 20th Century Man from The Kinks. Released in 1971 — don’t do the math, it’s a long time ago– it is a song of a man decrying his existence in a time in which he feels he doesn’t fit. Ray Davies may have felt that he would have been more at home in the 19th century but the odd thing is that the song’s words still fit very well for someone like myself whose life consists of mostly time spent in the 20th century.
He also introduces us to the word autotelic, taken from the book, 
It’s the New Year and I am finally back at work. I’ve started working on some pieces that have been brewing in my mind for a while, some that are out of my comfort zone. I don’t know how they will turn out and there’s a good chance that most of this work will never see the light of day. I have found that quite often work that is too idea based or thought out never gets into any kind of natural flow or rhythm, at least for me. I have plenty of examples from over the years that I won’t show here.
Flipping on the car radio this time of year brings torrents of holiday music. Many of the local stations change to an all Christmas format from Thanksgiving to the end of the year and you are bombarded with holiday tunes from every era and every level of quality– good , bad and ugly. Most are happy, solemn, goofy or stickily sentimental. Or nostalgically melancholic.
Aww, change the channel. It’s a rerun…
I am going to change the channel now. It’s time for Sunday music and I’ve been singing this song all week. It’s the Tom Jones version of Elvis Presley Blues which was written and performed originally by Gillian Welch. I am a big fan of Gillian Welch and love her version but I really admire Tom Jones’ take on it as well. It’s pared down accompaniment really highlights the power of his voice which is still formidable even at age 75.
Redtree Times 