Category: Music

This is a fun one that rose up out of a sleepless night, as dog days do in the their nights with temperature playing games, gnats finding new entrances, armadillos are Tarkus and that’s it for now, how strange to not sleep but to feel the heat coming in just by the color of the green leaves at dawn. We asked for it. We could have changed it all in 1970 then again in 2000 but the bad guys won, they sucked up the the poison and let dark angels have their way. We asked for it, we did not ask for it. I did not. So here it is, so be it. Have a cold latte and find your way into the day. Peace Love Hope Faith

Five minute work of a condensed vision of several Bruckner symphonic themes. Very compressed so hopefully I was able to transfer the sense fo being home but this just dost not feel like my Georgia anymore, I never know which dialect of thinking I enccounter until they are angry, I’m confused and feel like the same thing is being said over and over, but undersanding on the level of fiendship itself is lost in the attempt to translate even the simplst forms of communication.The subject and ohject are the same, but meaning becomes interchangeable between sign and signified, when put to the test of ordinary language, lingistict, and most of all, intention. I am lost in the sanctuary that once gave me such assurance of faith and belief. It’s people. It always comes down to my forever inability to for primary forms of speech. So, I applied the same to Bruckner in shrinking it all down to one compressed two movement statement. It is poety.

This is something that ended up being pretty cool in spite of the need some people have of misreading and puling a quote out of context and arguing the same arguments human kind has had since their mouths formed intelligible sounds on war and peace use of guns and all. Melt those farming tools to make swords and all or was it the other way around? And so it has gone since our mouths and tongue formed words into language and said “War Bad, Kill Bad People who make War” and so we have since we first raised a fist in anger. All the cool destroyers and aircraft carriers in the world, and they are cool looking; like space age cool, look them up on youtube, it will amaze. But say the word gun today and people freak out, understandably; but there are also those of us who like to hunt for our food, and fish for the flavor of the pond, river and sea. Me, I like the dirt. I like what grows out of the dirt as I gave up meat six months ago for Lent and it stuck. I guess Jesus Christ and Buddha really do want me to follow the true and very rough road of going vegetarian. No reason beyond Lent when I felt the greatest death into Life has already occurred. Let the animals live. But it you like different meats then for it, for CLEAN meat not factory mess. So my stance confuses people, as it always has no matter how hard I try. I woman once sia d to me back 35 years just a few before I quit drinking, “you know, Lamar. I really like you and can understand you so much better when you have been drinking. You are not so “out there.”. And I’ve heard it at least once a week my entire life. Early in my life I tried dumbing down with hard, I mean the hardest drugs to destroy parts of my brain I did not want to have anymore. I should have just blew them off and walked on, but teenagers need friends and Chefs need to match foods to wines and at the time it was to matc my cool food to the cool food of California! It was wonderful. Alice Waters changed us all for the good. I eventually developed my own cuisine after my apprenticeship and I owe a great debt to Mendocino, the place I long to return. Turn the guns to plows and the mind to the earth, those were interesting years, I grew, then I quit drinking and I grew even more. Whatever. I’m just babbling after spending nearly 12 hours on an 11:59 minute concerto using Classic piano and Chinese classical instruments. it all relates. I believe. Some just have a blast insulting me as best they can and others toss in the Gideians for a nice swipe at my faith. Let me tell ya, if a person is intentionally trying to wear down or test or find fault in your faith are not fair friends. I’d rather return to silent prayer and loneliness. All this boring stuff said, they tried to defeat me in my felief that we have enough guns, people who want to hunt for food should, and rhetoricians are fine among themselves but not with me. My family thinks me a freak and then says oh no not that way. As the great American Transcendental philosophers William James, Ralph Waldo Emerson and most importantly the one who created pragmatism, Peirce. He started so many schools of thought and study that he was pushed aside. Poor guy ended up in his barn with a gun threatening to kill any who came near. His was a tortured life. Created so much before it became that vanguard that it drove him mad. There is a tiny section in Zone Fever Dream Dreams Fever that is a tribute to Charles Sanders Peirse. I really hope you enjoy this music. I was able to work on it and complete it in spite of a need to argue a point. I don’t know why, the argument has existed since before the Bible was a dream. Please do not hate. Seek peace. Turn from Evil. And really really do to others as you would to yourself. speak of others as you think they would speak of you, more good than bad that’s for sure. Life goes on, huh? So insult, indulge, do judge, do smear, do bait and hate. People do represent their religion no matter how many times the opposite is said in defense. I have been and I have observed, and I am not happy. The Arts will live, and even if I am a forgotten grave off of First Avenue then so be it. I have condemned my actions much more than any common nazi can. On top of this condemnation and disdain I still believe, I still have faith, love and hope. Even if I have “only been a  Catholic for a day”.

Song Under the Cross
(an epic solo vocal song about eternal love and the wait for when she arrives again, and again into the time when we just turn to dust and mulberry bushes.)

This is a classical country blues, lonesome blues song from the dead. One of love eternal. A meeting where three crosses stood on Wolfskin Road. I’ve written a few poems about this area as I found it supernatural in many ways, and not just for the visionary force that was there, yes family/friends who love to say I am crazy take this and place it in a nice evidence he’s nuts file, but I had a love and she and I would sit out here and gaze into the night, listen to the fields as living and moving, you know, wind and crickets, mockingbirds singing back and forth, a night music, we loved this spot and I felt it as holy and as of love. So here it is, an acapella blues where till the end of time she and I will be here but as things like ash and clay, mulberry thickets, whatever it is that becomes of the earth our spirit lives on in this space. A fantasy. A love song. A blues. An Irish or Norwegian saga of a man who has one love and lives to be with her for all time. Love. A good thing. I never imagined singing an unaccompanied blues. But something about it fits. It would be a magnificent song in the right set of lungs, with a group of people who loved art and artists. Used to have that, now I just go it alone hoping somehow it is heard and touches a soft spot in a persons life, brings back a gentle memory, reminds us of life when you would not be arrested for siting under a cross praying and gazing out at the night. I was not arrested by the way, I just imagine in fascist or Stalinist death countries I would be killed for being a romantic.

I can only hope someone happens upon this and may like to hear the warmth of a world that is now a slaughterhouse of madness and fools brought to fever fears by our own little wiemarch and Stalinist mini groups designed to lure out romantics, writers, musicians, painters, Jews, homosexuals, anything that was not their little queen hitler with his tiny hands or macho stalin putin with their own self loathing lying in wait to explode. I would tag. I am no longer allowed to tag. My posts are under constant FB review and they seem to think me inhuman. I guess I should be less creative, or maybe have fewer enemies, I really don’t know. All I want to do is share Art and have someone, anyone, somewhere to discuss it with me. Since tagging has become verboten or just a hassle i peoples lives I am just putting this out there hoping someone will hear it want to talk about country blues. Why is tagging someone a bad thing? Most people, especially the ones who clog up the FB start page the most, have all tags dropped in the unwanted toys box anyway, I know half the people I tag just dump it or have them blocked anyway and are proud of blocking friends from communicating. Ugh! Stupid 21st century kill any opportunities for good conversations and sharing of songs, art, poems etc. I have even become afraid of my faith. What is left when the idea of a salon is wiped from the earth? We now have had the largest mass murder in history for our young nation. The Orange Demon is real. His apes are now running free. I hope someone digs this song and lets me know if it’s cool or garbage, oh wait, too many love to say garbage and bad things, just only if you like it and have something similar or something.

Song Under The Cross – 6 12 16, 5.27 PM

This is a classical country blues, lonesome blues song from the dead. One of love eternal. A meeting where three crosses stood on Wolfskin Road. I’ve written a few poems about this area as I found it

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soundcloud.com|By h-lamar-thomas

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