Memorial Barbecue

Dolphy died in '64 on a day last week. I didn't realise it until I stumbled across a painting that Bill Cosby has hanging in his house. I had seen it years ago in a documentary on DOlphy and his last days. I view him as among the first of the breed of educated Jazz musicians. He wasn't a juke joint boogie type, and seemed to avoid the whole Thelonius NYC heroin wave. He walked a straight line into musical freedom. Listening to his Five SPot recordings, I am reminded that he figured out what it took free jazz years to learn: 8 people onstage blowing their guts out is actually very limiting. Ornette got hung up on Harmolodics. He did so much, then, next thing you know, Jamaladeen Tacuma is laying down instantly dated Pastorian Bass tone over cheese-ass Jerry Garcia guitar riffs. Ayler had this heartbreaking darkness to expunge. He hammered a stage full of noisy out honkers into sub/pre-primal gospel dirges, sturdy enough to bear the heartbreak. So many others... Sun Ra, Trane(grab these interviews), any of the Europeans, but Dolphy always felt like he was stretching. This has all been written about by betters: I was just thinking about Eric Dolphy, is all.
I just wish that I could find his recordings of Varese...



I know a nerd or two in Michigan that would love to diddle a Samchillian. I saw one of these played with the Yohimbe Brothers. Vernon Reid had the line of the night. "Look at that white boy... typin' his ass off!"



Let's get the musical stuff of this morning out. I know it's a little Windham Hill to admit it, but Harp Guitars are so cool.



Let's get artsy fartsy for a sec. I remember seeing this old guy in Staromestska Square. It was still cold then, and he was wearing a top hat while playing along to a dinged up micro-boombox. The song? Brazil. I'm thinking about Peru...



I've been thinking about doing some alternative photographic processe. Peepe these badass ambrotypes.



WHat to say about the graphical representation of mathematical functions in spatial fields of motion? I like the colours.



I Towards a Philosophy of Photography, Barthes writes about the posture one assumes when they are posing for a picture. I bet he would think this is as funny as I do...



OK, OK, I know what you're thinking... It's been twenty minutes, and no songs about food. Howzabout you chew on the coolest bike.



Or, play this...



Here's a painting I did the other day...