Using the ungodly amount of art supplies I have on hand, I just began with the Prelude, and before I knew it I had the first whole five seconds sketched. That means I now have o.2% of the entire work visualized. UNSTOPPABLE, that’s what I am.
Anyway, here it is:
—click to embiggen—
Where it says “appear,” imagine “twinkle on.”
And here’s the music: mp3 Remember, it’s just the first five seconds—only 37 and a half minutes to go!
—————
[1] And remember, if you are looking for a charming, expensive piece to do for a world premiere, I am contactable.
The labyrinth of the 3 Old Men ritual troupe: a multicursal labyrinth with four entrances/paths to the center. Each path splits twice on its way to the center, where the participant finds a temple bell he can ring and a small altar where he can leave and take small gifts.
For those just joining us, the labyrinth was designed originally to be taken to Burning Man and as such had a few basic requirements: it had to be easy(ish) to set up; it had to be pretty visible so hippies didn’t trip over it in the dark; and it had to leave no trace. The solution was 16″ plastic tent stakes and nylon rope.
Phase 1:
click for larger version
We haven’t made it to Burning Man yet, but the Georgia burns are fun enough without the hassle of driving to the middle of the Black Rock desert and having to survive there for a week.
The aesthetics of the thing always bothered me, since neon orange and yellow are not exactly conducive to a contemplative state, and so I proposed that we[1] create fabric walls that would be slipped down over the stakes, ditching the rope.[2] We applied for funding from the hippies, got it, and I spent last summer creating that.
Phase 2:
At the burn:
As I designed the walls, I was already planning ahead for Phase 3, because we knew that life, the universe, and everything would be much improved if the labyrinth lit up, you guys! So all the walls have a 2″ channel sewn into the top for lights to be threaded through.[3]
So here we are. A couple of the troupe are planning to take it to Apogaea, the Colorado burn in June, and so we’re looking at that for our debut of Phase 3, and if not then, then Alchemy this fall for sure.
I was sent a short strip of LED tape to test out a couple of things, one of the concerns being that if we ran the lights through the channel, it might not produce enough light to be effective. So the question was whether we should a) run the lights through the channel; or b) place them somehow outside the fabric.
Last night I took one of the shortest walls and created a test spot out in my own labyrinth…
and behold!
Phase 3 test
Threading it will be perfectly lovely. The plan is to run the lights through the four “long” walls. Here’s the design:
Those long walls are the ones that start at the top and the bottom and snake their way to the center. One of the issues with lighting the thing is that there twelve walls altogether, and how does one do that without a lot of complication? As you can see in the test photos, lighting the long walls will illuminate the short walls on either side. If we want to figure out the short walls later, we can.
There is probably a Phase 4, in which we program the lights to pulse gently, or even to send gentle pulses along the length to the center. WOULDN’T THAT BE AMAZING YOU GUYS?
However, we’re still in Phase 3, and one of the issues is the actual threading of 100+ feet of LED wire through the walls. We will need a bodkin or two; for this short bit, I made a heavy cardboard prototype:
Right, it’s like a big needle, but instead of a sharp point it has a bulgy tip so that after you shirr the fabric up the shaft, you can grasp the tip to pull the fabric off the other end.[4] I envision a completed version as wooden, about 18″ long, and round instead of flat. I have a simple arrangement of grooves at the back end rather than an eye to hold the tape in place without bending/breaking it. So who has a lathe and knows how to use it?
Before we left for our trip last week, we paid a visit to Richard’s Variety Store in Midtown/Monroe Drive. Richard’s is one of those places that create a strain in a relationship if, for example, one’s lovely first wife had never disclosed that she knew of this chamber of wonders. One might accuse the other of holding out on him.
It’s a magical place, kind of a Woolworths for the hipster/hippie crowd, and if you haven’t been, go.
Here’s what I bought (among other things):
Yes, that is Icarus, the hero of Seven Dreams of Falling, coming eventually to an opera house near you. He’s to remind me that I do have a major theatrical work to compose. Which I’m not doing right now, because I’m writing this blog post to avoid finishing my tax returns.
If I were to link this to Lichtenbergianism, it would fall into RITUAL, as an object which represents a project or a goal and serves to remind me that it will be a beautiful thing—once I finish it.
Last week was an away game, so I got nothing done except a lot of Waste Booking. Now I’m back with a handful of (major) emails to deal with, plus all my backlog of work, plus my taxes are due.
But first.
On Saturday night, my lovely first wife and I went to the Isis Restaurant and Music Hall in West Asheville to hear a group called Harpeth Rising, a trio of young women who played cello, violin, and banjo.
You are wrong: this was one of the most amazing performances I have ever seen. The lead singer (violin) has a voice as good as anything you’ve ever heard come out of Nashville, and their songs are beautiful and incisive.
They ended their set with “Eve” and “Four Days More”, and I have to say that the tepid applause they receive in the video link above indicates brain damage on the part of their audience. The crowd at Isis went wild. I went wild. They are simply amazing, and if they ever perform within range again, you will find me there. And I will have dragged you along with me.
So what’s on my plate? In no particular order:
updated to indicate completion… or not
Emails:
a couple of online references to fill out for former GHP faculty – √
renew the domain registration for lichtenbergian.com — turns out this was not a legit email
Mike Funt is nattering something something about Miss Ella’s song—a couple of video links to watch; I think he wants me to rewrite the song for a different feel. Will know more after I watch the videos. — still unclear
several emails from the nice, energetic people who have conned me into steering the Carnegie Library Foundation’s end-of-summer reading program party, which revolves around the game of Minecraft. Oy. — replied to all; meeting tomorrow
blog postings for the Euphoria Burn art projects (which I didn’t write but am responsible for getting online) — √
from the Waste Book:
new ideas for the structure of the chapter in Lichtenbergianism on RITUAL
idea for storyboarding the Prelude from William Blake’s Inn (vid. sub.)
note to sign up to be a speaker at the Carnegie on Lichtenbergianism
todo: make garlic tahini dressing for LFW — √
recipe for a cocktail called a Thai Orchid (full story: my favorite bar in the world is Sovereign Remedies in Asheville. We were there Saturday, and 1) the bartender Thistle, who has not seen me in a year, called me by name; and 2) another patron asked what I was drinking—it was a Molly 22A, one of my successes (I like to see what the guys at SR will make of my recipes)—and when I let her have a taste, she wanted the recipe to add to the menu at her restaurant, Fig, which was the first restaurant we ever ate at in Asheville. So I gave her the Quarter Moon as well.)
notes for email to go out to the 3 Old Men crew today — √
from my ToDo list on the phone:
taxes — √
design a bodkin for threading EL wire into the labyrinth — √
water the houseplants — √
sew the 2″ channel into the long walls of the 3 Old Men labyrinth
complete a variance application to build an 8-foot wall in the back yard (current limits are 6 feet)
type up instructions for getting a blogpost onto the Newnan Theatre Company website for those who need to be doing that themselves — √
print the scene from Henry VIII for my fellow actors for the ULTIMATE SHAKESPEARE DEATH SMACKDOWN, coming soon on Apr 21 to a Historic Depot near you — √
prep the labyrinth for a Lichtenbergian fireside tonight — raining, so unnecessary
write that email to the 3 Old Men crew — √
buy something called a “shark bite cap” for old pipes I plan to saw off in the basement
stow the four 5×7 rugs we bought to lay under our tent so roots and stuff don’t poke through the tent floor — √
test the EL lights on a 3 Old Men labyrinth wall segment
do laundry — √
start storyboarding William Blake’s Inn—on the way out of town last week, I bought a sketchbook to make myself visualize what a staged production of WBI would look like
Otherwise:
learn lines for HVIII
volunteer at the Boys & Girls Club around the corner—my first day today! — √
get my ideas together for how the SHAKESPEARE SMACKDOWN will actually work
take some things to the cleaners
You will perhaps have noticed that nowhere in here is there anything about a) working on Lichtenbergianism; b) composing anything at all, up to and including Seven Dreams of Falling or my new secret project.
I am not procrastinating. I’ve traveling. And despite my best intentions to get something done, that doesn’t really happen on the road, does it?
I mean, if I were on a book tour for Lichtenbergianism and all alone in my hotel room at nights, then sure, I could be working on my next book or the new opera, but this is a family visit so my attention is otherwise engaged and rightfully so.
That’s all. Just wanted to make sure that everyone understood that I was not getting anything done by procrastinating; I’m just not doing anything.
This is a really good book, folks. The author delves into many of the same areas as Lichtenbergianism and in many of the same ways. She addresses structured procrastination, the impostor syndrome, RITUAL, ABANDONMENT, even STEAL FROM THE BEST, and she does it in a fluid, witty, conversational style.
One major way Get It Done differs from Lichtenbergianism, though, is that Bennett gives many do-able exercises to help the procrastinator move into a productive state. It is not my intention to be so prescriptive or so helpful.
Bennett also aims to show people how to become at least semi-professional artists, and I am so far from being able to help in that department that I shan’t even try.
Where I think I differ most significantly is in aiming Lichtenbergianism at more than fine artists: people can use the Nine Precepts in more than the creative life.
I do like the sidebar features, which has always been a part of my concept as well. Probably that’s where all the personal testimonials from my fellow Lichtenbergians will go.
Summary: a very good book on procrastination for artists of all stripes.
(Hover over for caption/description; click for new view.)
This is when I know there’s no turning back. If I were of a crude nature, I’d call it some kind of feeling of inevitability that one encounters every now and then.
The labyrinth itself needs to be mowed and the paving stones trimmed, but that’s the kind of thing I can do later.
This encapsulates two of the rightwing positions that just drive me over the edge: worship of the military, and hatred for the poor.
As for the first, the idea that our current deployments in active war zones are in any way “protecting your unskilled butt” is ludicrous. The last line in particular is one of those rightwinger classics. I think the allusion is to the second World War, that we defeated Hitler and thus escaped the inevitable universal Third Reich that so captivates the authoritarian mind.
Because you remember how France and Poland and Holland were all speaking German by 1942, right? Oh wait.[1]
I might add, if I were of a caustic nature,[2] that at no point in the last 60 years have any of us suffered the slightest threat of having to learn Vietnamese, Lebanese, Pashto, Arabic, Kurdish, or even Grenadan. Just because the rightwing brain gets off on imaginary threats doesn’t mean they’re real. (Spoiler alert: they’re not real.)
In the real world, our current “boots on the ground” adventures having nothing to do with any kind of existential threat to our nation. They really don’t, and pretending they do is simply a ploy to elevate the good men and women who serve in our military to godlike heroes—a position I’m not sure many of them are comfortable with—for political purposes.[3]
My second bugbear, hatred of the poor, is there in spades. Insulting names? Check. Disingenuous assumption that “Johnny Fry-Boy” works 40 hours a week? Check.
But the argument that always just amazes me as an incredible example of the “is not/is too” frame of the rightwing mind is the “job designed for a kid in high school… who is earning enough for gas” thing. They keep harping on this idea that fast food service jobs are merely some kind of a Happy Days lark, not a “real” job.
As they leave the drive-through at lunch, do they ever wonder who made their Value Meal if the place is staffed by high school students? How is McDonald’s able to open before 4:00 every afternoon even?
Also, they harp on “burger flippers,” because those people are obviously scum, but of course the country is replete with other minimum wage jobs. (Also.)
Given the rightwing’s insistence on “personal responsibility,” it amazes me that they will look at someone working a job at McDonald’s in order to make a living and still sneer that for whatever reason the person doesn’t even deserve that because of “lack of skills.” You’re poor and uneducated? You should have thought of that before, loser.
I mean, and here’s the point, even assuming that Johnny Fry-Boy is a high school dropout and has no marketable skills other than working the line at Mickey-D’s, what do the rightwingers want him to do?
And here’s the biggest point that really leaves me slack-jawed: I see this story and the solution that pops into my head is to make sure our military is paid more too.
You would think that might have occurred to people who think our service men and women are godlike heroes.
—————
[1] Sure, the Angles and the Saxons had to learn some French after 1066, but… You know what? The whole mindset is stupid.
[3] During the run-up to the Iraq War, the authoritarians were waving the “fight Them over there so we don’t have to fight Them over here” flag, and the dirty freaking hippies were all like, “Dude, terrorism isn’t an army,” and guess who was right?
In an admirable display of both TASK AVOIDANCE and ABORTIVE ATTEMPTS,[1] I have not worked on Lichtenbergianism: procrastination as a creative strategy today. Instead, I have forced myself to crank out about two minutes of abortive musical ideas for a new piece that’s been on my mind for a year and a half now.
What I’m posting today is a textbook example of ABORTIVE ATTEMPTS: it makes no effort to be complete or even good. What you will hear is multiple “false starts,” just plopping out some images and ideas without regard to whether they are any good or not. I put “false starts” in quotes, because the whole point of ABORTIVE ATTEMPTS is that there’s nothing false about them: they are just starts, period.
Some of these bits are way wrong. But they exist. Some may find their way into the finished piece; most won’t.
Here’s what you’re listening to.
I have an idea for a programmatic orchestral (maybe concert band) suite inspired by series by one of my favorite young adult authors, who shall remain unnamed here for copyright issues obviously. There are two ideas I’m futzing with here (in a piano score): 1) a landscape of surreal majesty; 2) a theme for our hero, a 1930s radio serial style whiz kid. (If you have tumbled to the secret, keep it to yourself, thanks.)
Each abortive attempt is only a couple of measures, followed a measure of silence.
landscape ideas: just harmonies, to be fleshed out later + fragments from an earlier attempt, also landscape related
sketch for our hero theme
another hero theme
chase music motif, mostly harmonic
another hero theme
a landscape sketch
a chase fragment
one more hero theme
You will note the appalling unfinished sound of nearly all of it. But that’s how it begins. Check back when if I’ve finished the piece.
