pygmy

yeah.



I will most likely be coming up two weekends from now though.

this is an autobiographical sketch - cause I can't think of a good story on the spot. I hope you like

she was the first person I saw as I stepped of the Lakeshore Limited into Chicago's Union Station. the first person I couldn't take my eyes off of. everyone called her cowboy - I never knew her real name. she was martin's girl in a passing way, and then she wasn't. I was in her presence a few brief times afterwards at college get-togethers - I never said two words to her.

martin was an incidental student of philosophy at the University of Chicago - having come to Chicago to become a Blues musician and drink himself to death. a multi-instrumentalist, I remember happening upon him in the stairwell of the dormitory that we shared blowing Jazz on a trumpet - he liked the acoustics. martin was the kind of guy who could effortlessly untangle pre-socratic philosophy but didn't blush while flunking calculus.

with a blues harp (harmonica) he was a force of nature. I don't know who first cupped a microphone against a harmonica - I believe it was Junior Wells playing with Muddy Waters ... but the sounds that are produced by a good blues harpist defy description. I've heard it likened to a saxophone, some say it has the swooping lines of an electric slide guitar.

there is this thing that Jazz and Blues musicians do that is called cutting heads - it's a bloodsport. basically, if you think you are better than the musician playing on stage you get up and play and let the crowd decide. I've seen martin start playing harp at the back of a raucous Blues joint in the south end of Chicago, walk up onstage and blow everybody out of the room

Hi

I just re-discovered you and your photography by way of
orpiment

what a revelation you are - such delicate striking features ... the raw natural setting of much of your work is a wonderful complement to your beauty

thank you for brightening my day

I tried sort of spread-sheeting them a long time ago, by writing everything down on paper in alphabetical order. but, you know, you can leave spaces for future albums or whatever scheme you may invent, but it is still really hard to keep them in any proper order on a hand-written piece of paper. these days I just rip them straight into itunes first thing, and it does all the organizing for me! the computer is a lot better at searching than I was, too.

At first I thought you meant your head glows in the dark.

Nuclear-licious.

lindo gatito

OMG I'D HIT IT!

*holds you up to the light to see if you are prismatic also*

I'm just round.

-TM

Hey
Back in the day I was 1point6180
Friend me again if you so desire.

These days I try to stay up until I'm so tired I can barely think.

"You're either dead or undead."

yes, you know how much I like bricks, their nuances of colors, forms, textures It is almost obsessional: I want to be buried with bricks after my death!

There's a lot of musicians in your list that I love a lot !

i was on a bad connection for a while, but i'm back!

Yeah we're rising against the machine.

It appears you have a special valley where the sun rises and sets in the same direction.

Sounds delicious but youd better watch out for the Vampire Watermelons!!!

You like the Bindlestiff Family Circus?

as usuall - i love your photography and by association you

Well if I do that I suppose I'll have to record it...and ruin music forever for some folks...

It disturbs me that I cannot be buried in the hollow of a tree or become compost under a bed of flowers in someones garden.

like yer new pic.

in tibet, they let their dead go to the vultures. it's called sky burial. rather beautiful idea.

I hear it's lovely this time of year.

But I've also heard that Twinkie's make a great sushi recipe so that's not saying much.

has interesting ruined cities, I'm told