The View From Here

I just do my part in helping the wood become part tool & part talisman; the greatest work is done before and after by other hands.

The before hands, that could be metaphorical to some and literal to others. Any way you look at it I didn’t do it; setting something like a tree up in a tiny seed is way beyond my meager skills. I just live in a place where things like this happen, on a giant blue ball suspended in infinite space. Just that alone should be enough to shut mouths and open minds, pondered for even a moment. So here I am in this amazing place where things just grow, and here is this fantastic material to work with, and get this… it was alive too! It felt and knew and breathed and experienced in its own way on its own mostly stationary experience of life here. 

Now I take this presence and help it to become a tool by which, in other hands, it is helped to vibrate in harmony and rhythm with others; another creation process, another alchemy… the tools assisting that sort of thing between the players; the players AND the tools assisting that sort of thing between them and the listeners, whether live or recorded. The medicine is strong and the gift keeps on giving!

And here I, a complex being just trying to be a simple man and tend to the gardens inside and out by doing work of meaning I somehow have been guided to do with this person I have somehow become, live immersed in this process of transformation; it, ironically, is my constant! I live in a perpetual springtime of becoming and first notes. It could almost be said the tree has become these other metaphorical seeds, flat and edged square, which I then pencil on and start cutting and shaping and fitting together once they are planted here within the walls of the workshop, into THIS fertile ground. These new roots don’t grow down, they grow outward intangibly. Drawing its force to become from our skills here, it blooms again; and sustaining from what it helps to draw out of the player and through itself, and again outward into the music of others’ moments, it lives.

And through helping this, by being its servant, I live. From situation to soul I am fed by this. It still blows my mind where they turn up. I live in a bubble of "nexts" so after 20 years of this it shouldn't be a surprise, they're all over! But it's like hearing your song on the radio. It never gets old and it's never less than amazing how any of it happened in the first place.

Play on and make some beauty happen,

Listening to: Mahavishnu Orchestra Birds of Fire; Grateful Dead Workingman’s Dead, Mars Hotel; David Coverdale White Snake (the 1st solo album from waaaay back in the '70s, very Bad Company-esque); Billy Squier Don’t Say No (I love this album so much); The Butterfield Blues Band The Resurrection of Pigboy Crabshaw; Leon Parker Resurrection (fantastic very unusual jazz album), and some very weird early '70s German LSD commune music called Cosmic Jokers.