Monday, 11 January 2016

Reflections -

When I heard of Paul Bley going I stopped for a moment, reread the news and cried (had to be sure it wasn't some hoax - in bad taste). Moments after, a phone call, and  Pierre Boulez...

I thought to myself, no..
No, no way..


Within a few days, David Bowie -
...........(As I thought to myself, before hearing of Bowie, - no way am I opening this year (in this blog) with news of such socially, and artistically moving icons passing.. Grabbing onto a beloved painter - turning 90, I rejoiced and wrote, for the year at least in terms of this master - is gracious enough to let us rejoice, but, within hours came the news of one with whom I passed from youth into adulthood, symbolic - beyond music (as an icon of my emancipating teen years, even though I loved those of my brothers and sister: Otis, Procol, Deep Purple, Beatles and so forth, but Bowie - though not far from their age (not that age mattered, or our perception of their age was acurate, and regardless hitting me more deep inside ones or the others, while listening) ,
was what I felt more inline with mine
 - I felt I gave him to my brothers and sister - as they had given me those mentioned, and as beloved mentors and loved ones gave me Boulez, Beirach, Stockhausen, Berberian, Gismonti, Holland, Jarrett, Rivers, Coltrane, DeJohnette, Swallow, Jessye Norman, Cohen, Hendrix... (some to such an extent one is unsure whom is given to us, and whom we give to others)
(some of those mentioned, thank God - still here, others not)
(some of the musical treasures - eventually turning out to be those mentors themselves, dear friends and/or loved ones - Capdeville, Peixinho, and ♥ C. Azevedo, among others)

and we all gave each other, with great love and happiness many, those mentioned - and others.)

..But Bowie, .............with his aura of his own unique self, sometimes touching on Dali (where oneself is a work of art), and more "Pop" icon than Warhol - to me, because he went beyond that..,
 and so tied to my teens, when although not wanting to use "labels" and "groups" to tie myself down to any categorized peg (so to speak) - I felt reflected parts of me as I went through life's stage of emancipation, sometimes baring a few strands of coloured hair flowing within my natural tones, pins and safety-pins on my teenager purse, as I listened to him, to Miles and to Evans, to Bach and to Chopin, to Gabriel, to Lauper, to Purcell, to Zappa and Joni...., among so many others, and the ones mentioned above; and
 not long afterward - having watched his Mr. Lawrence -

- was special in a different sense, in an almost Dali-like sense, where one is a work of art, a constant, mutating, work of art.

I will miss him, and what he would still give us.

So I bid a goodnight, hoping the year - despite such a start, its conflicts and strange treaties,
brings us, with Arts -
(all of them that is, as they do save and deliver us, as many of us find - I leave a LINK, regarding such matters -  circa 5'20'' into Ian McKellen's interview, for instance),
- and with Human kindness, an unspoiled world that does not hurt the soul to see.

Thank you for reading this blog.
I was, in these past days, with all of this in mind, attempting a translation, and if somehow it is completed shall post it.
It is not a lengthy thing to translate, but so....... ah, can't even begin to say what it is to make such an endeavour - for it is Pessoa.


1 comment:

  1. Usually writinng to get things off my chest, I don't frequently re-read what is posted, but, having come back I realize, among names inferred when using the word "others" - one who also was present in my life (untill turning 16) and sometimes I recall when thinking of parents and siblings (sometimes the generation after me: nephews, nieces & younger friends - that introduced me to "others"), I come upon the only grandparent I knew
    (connected biologically, as well as emotionally like others I "adopted" and loved)
    - who was still around when I was born, my grandfather.

    Retired from radio broadcasting, he gave me (for instance) - "The Hollies", and I gave him in return - charlestons (as if "mine" to give, but of course, in truth, he was "re-receiving" them).

    Those who care for us, and we care for, do help shape and mold us into what we are, when we allow it (and when they are capable of such, as well)

    P.S. - he really fooled me when I was a kid, making me think I was giving him something "new", as I tried to reach him (which wasn't a difficult thing. He was very attentive), showing my tastes and what made me tick.