Existential Ramblings in the Desert...

time moving fast but that is really only a human concern…the desert with the mountains overlooking them have no such concern…the Indians down the road I don’t think much bother either…the white man with his white death left them behind a long time ago…I was out in this spot three years ago…Lia and Isabella were just babies then…I didn’t have my camera then…just the Fitzell’s video camera which I used to capture the big sky sunsets…I was excited by the fact alone…youtube had just started and I had put up my first youtube video, the Genie’s Hey Fuzzy What’s UP. There was no Flickr then so I hadn’t begun this insane posting of pictures…the whole internet thing fits into my philosophy of where you are at the moment…it’s like a kerouac thing, you’re rapping about your consciousness in the moment…it’s a break down of authority…your only as good as you are in that moment…it’s like Celine’s dictum, a journey into the end of night…your travelling in your imagination…do you have the faith to ride it to it’s illogical conclusion?

planes, traines, nyc, qua, the desert...

Well it had been my birthday so I had hit city…four days into the drunk and I was out…over four hours of video in my possession…bands, fiction poetry reading, freinds…in the ‘qua and the in the plaines ruminating on what I had experienced…bounced it up but lukewarm reception..a little bit of bummer but not that much…I have seen it plenty of times before…people don’t react…it’s easier that way…it’s a conversation though…or absent of conversation…I should have just posted the video…I shouldn’t have said anything…instead of being mr. nice guy I should have just done it…hestiate and the critics come in…and they are not of the world of the blogs, of jamming the thought…their websites are all out of date…and so I moved on…through the airport and the plane….view over america…and the kids…sign of rebirth and renewal and innocence….there in the desert…the big sky coutnry…it was time to write myself into the movie…

ry cooder played by Pandaleon and Sid

Tom and I reconnecting after a 15 year hiatus...shit happens and then it passes it on...it was like we never had stopped...the old grooves were right in place...as I told him, it felt good to be with someone who understood where I was coming from...from time to time I have thought about why the scenes I hung in fell apart but I came to the conclusion it was just meant to be...we were all very young and taking a lot of chances and being very experimental...in a culture which really doesn't encourage such endeavors it's not surprising that it fell apart...it's a testament to how real were then that it's coming back now...

Morning in the 'Qua...

My continuing exploration of the light behind my house. Today was a good day to take pictures because it is unexpectedly warm. After a snow and rain fell yesterday, there was a fine mist on the ground adding an angelic feel to the shots...

After the brutal cold yesterday the warmth against my flesh felt really good. Also to see the sun after such a dark day was such a welcome sight. There has been so much negativity on the television that it felt great just to be out in the peace in the woods. On the streets in White Plains, you can see the scowls on the people waiting for the bus, economic fortune long having since past them by and then on the train, soulless nature of the executive class...

To see sun creeping up the trunks of trees so refreshing...

Reflections of the 'Qua boy...

The 'Qua boy one more day in the 'Qua light...this morning there was a yellow glow topping off the trees and sloping down the hills. Walking down into the woods I could see the streaking shadows which are so present in the winter years. Once down the hill, when I looked backwards, I could see the light exploding over my parents house. In the town there was a quiet sense of being since the schools are out on winter vacation. It is all about the kids in this town. That is in addition how much the adults can rip off down in Manhattan and other such fancy locales. Through a freak of happenstance, I was born into being the 'Qua boy, an action formula hero on the quest of vision and seeing.

My vision is wrapped around studying the light of the 'qua...I wish I could make it more glamarous for you but that's all there is to it.

Color corrected Train Boy...

color corrected train boy...richest homelessman in america...the joke still lives on...from the empty sunday morning through the still night in the 'qua I make my way over the movie set, isolated from the regular characters who live by a different definition then I do. I grew up reading beatnicks and going to dead shows and having deep conversations about nietzche and other such philosophical matters...the dream goes as does the expression...listening to a wbai tribute to lorraine hynesberry, a then black young playwright in the late 50's and early 60's....a group of well reknowned actors are reading her words...she as well as most of them gone now not even remembered by the majority of people...her words ring strong as does the light on my sensibility...

coming off the train late night early morning no one there accept for the lone patrol car, it was like having your own private movie set...

Return to the qua' after adventures in south florida...

the familiar landscape after a trip down to South Florida...they don't have trees like this down here...or seasons...florida stays the same in a forever swampy bliss...stepping off the train greeted by the steaking light and shadow through the proud snickering trees...

Changing Landcape...

changing landscape of memory...it's like a jazz improvisation...a spontaneous conversation...it's like the warrior two pose in yoga...you gotta be ready for whatever comes your way...last night a plane went down in Buffalo five miles before landing...like that, gone...a man on Larry King who was a neighbor of the victim marveled who lived a hundred yards down the road never got to know that neighbor...America so fast so changing...most of us never get to know our landscape..memories flood the facebook, inventions of self in remembered narrative..but I have always been the wharf rat, walking alone in the town, observing the changing nature of light in the warrior pose because like the china cat sensations exploding fast real wrapped in the condom of indifference gone gray in the mtv hallucination with the pop pop pop of cellphone schizophrenia I remember when generation x back in 92 were the media's darlings and now look at them so middle age and I remember the explosion of real estate value now look at it so destitute so forlorn junkie america everyone fixed on something money cars food sex tv video games coffee cigarettes you name we got it shuffling down on the street I saw his portrait indeed he had gone so pc and I looked at them on the train they were wondering what had happened to the 401k it made me smirked we were both equally broke but unlike them I had never sold out in the holy grail of expression and like it has always has been and like it was always will be the light flooding through the town greeted me on my ulysses like adventure....

John Doe

John Doe's voice opens up...

"If I twisted your mind, didn't mean to make it ugly, if your life feels all burned out, I know the dark can be so scary, and if I beat up your heart, then it's bloody like everyone's..."

Outside a Starbucks in Plantation, Florida the song rings true..it's part of John's talent to write haunting lyrics that pierce to heart of the matter...like John, I've kept it going...his music inpires me because it continues to grow in depth...versatile, he can go from the hard rocking style of X to the soft lullabies of A Year In the Wilderness with great dexterity.. The lyrics deliverpenetrating insights into the struggles and conflicts people have in the contetxt of under four minutes. Combine this with his mastery of melody and you have a powerful effect. The man knows how to construct a tune which brings the listener through a whole range of universes and emotions.. One of his hallmarks is the emotional intensity of his music. "Everyone wants to be thought about, everyone wants to be remembered, kisssing so hard," he sings with great passion...love affairs...betrayal...shifting identities in a fast moving world is all gist for his pen...Underscoring his talent is the fact that he is also an incredibly nice guy which is rare for the music business. The man is also a hardy veteran of the road. After a particular gig at Maxwells in Hoboken, New Jersey, John and the band picked up the gear and packed into a white band and were on the road for another gig down in Richmond, Virginia...

His voice goes on...

"She sat on a hill, watching the crow, killing a quayle...in the gull of the lull, the wind whipped through the pines, like a broom on the floor, she dreamed about dying, just the night before..."

florida, the sun, beaches, faces, the void...

another day at the races gambling in the void...

another day at the races gambling in the void...bailout on the tv...right wing talking heads shrieking on the television spinning out their lies...why don't they just give every American a million dollars and let's get this party started...Hannity screaming on the tv this socialism and so what if it is?...why do we need hot tongue and a cold shoulder for our daily meal? This not to mention the capitalism welfare they practice...twenty five percent of US corporations cheat on their taxes by moving thier legal residency to the Cayman Islands...so much for patriotism...and with the lies Steve Forbes propugates when he echoes the party line that American corporations pay the high taxes in the world...when you break down all the entitlements they get they wound up barely paying any taxes at all so yeah they wrap up the issues in cultural isuses and nascar and apple pie and why is no one talking about the waste of money in Iraq or the gamble they too there and the gamble they lost big and no one talks about the bank financing of Obama's rise to the Presidency his plan is to bailout the executives and shareholders...

the faces down at the track, life worn looking for that fix to hit that money maker to push the world away in a rush of money there's nothing like hitting a trip several times over it's better than anything els even sex there under the hot sun and when that gets to much you can walk into the cool dark casino and roll the dice or play the slots and wait for the luckh sevens to come up with your number

life a gamble a choice an existentail decision maybe if you're smart enough you learn to play with the track's money learn how to soften the blow but not on that tv down here in this state the leading state of foreclosures see the woman crying on the townhall meeting, oh save oh save me obama and little does show know how in bed he is with the theives he isn't putting his chances up to a gamble....

Landcape...

americans fast to move even faster to see...unrooted to landscape oblivious to nature lost in a tv dream...so be it...behind my window down past the backyard such a great art show going on year after...I watch it with detached being...the seasons blending into seasons...scary how fast they come now but subtle in its ecstasy the deeper in perception I grasp of its subtle implications...the same long seen at different vintage points in the year or at different times of the day or night...that's what I'm into...perception, refining what I see...from the safety of my internet window I see the musings on facebook...very little do people care what's going on in the moment....they want to talk about the past, the glory days and how they remember them not how they were...funny how memory does that to us all...how we construct our autobiographies with the facts as we remember them to construct the narrative we want to believe in...I learned that so long ago from Jean Genet in "The Prisoner of Love," a fantastic autobiography dealing with such themes. From the vantage of these woods through the coldest winter to the hottest summer I have sat on the varioius logs drinking 12 packs of cheapies while I sank into Nietzche's notion of the herd, you can see them down in the what the Greeks called the agora, the marketplace, a notion I derived from Allan Bloom and The Closing of the American Mind, a book I picked up for free since they were discarding it down at the Chappaqua Library where I have picked up many a book in such a fashion...yeah, I bet you weren't ready for such deep thoughts seeing as you bought my clown act but how else could I act since by no means were you clued in to what I know and how I see so I dumbed myself to deal with you who lives in Madison Avenue images and cheap petty concerns...

the landscape has always liberated me...in its noisy silence you can hear so much...see so much...

The Kinks - Sunny Afternoon

Sunrise in Ft. Lauderdale...

sunrise in Ft. Lauderdale...away from the cold of the northeast...fat yellow light syrupy over the ocean waves...thoughts of Ponce De Leon...rebirth in the promise of the sun...no tv with its lies of Fox stink...don't they get it?...those who were in the deal already got their money stashed...it's never been about the people...that's just a smoke screen....like the preacher who comes with his bible offering you salvation...quickly run the other way...in the zen, words don't do the sunrise justice...it just is...simple yet profound...being in the moment...a travel thought...warm breeze blowing off the water...radiating, radiating, radiating...

A Day at the Races: Gulfstream Racetrack

Horse racing at Gulfstream Racetrack...if marketed properly, horse racing could be become an attractive option for people under 30..

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A Day at the Races: Gulfstream Racetrack

Gulfstream Racetrack from robert dene on Vimeo.

Gulfstream Racetrack

Ft. Lauderdale

Ft. Lauderdale was the place we came to when we were very young. Sometimes we would drive. This interminable drives down 95 in the car. It seemed to take ages. We would play who could spot South of the Border first. When my parents became more affluent, we would fly down. My Grandparents lived there as did my my Grandmother and an aunt and uncle. I have a lot of cousins and they would be down therre as well. I can remember being down there in 1973 when there were all these rumors of a Beatles reunion. I was just discovering rock n' roll. I was vaguely aware that the Beatles were this famous thing but wasn't quite sure. That week we were down there the radio played countless hours of Beatles song. Also at that particular time Bennie and the Jets by Elton John was a big hit. I can remember being in the car with my older cousins and that song would come on and we would all sing it. Elton John too was this larger than life character with funky glasses and outfits.

There was hours and hours down on the beach. It seemed like I would just get lost in my head in these deep fantasies and imaginations that seemed to last centuries. I can vivivly sense the salt sensation in my nostrils and the abrasiive sand against my young flesh. We had secret passage ways and would play hide and seek. There was my cousin George and my younger brother Jeff. It was like the children had this secret diaglogue that only we understood and never the parents. Going to the movies was a big event and one memorable time was seeing the Escape from the Planet of the Apes.

It was the time of the hippies and I remember asking my parents what were all these weird derelict people doing down here. They would say stay away, that they were dangerous, and so we did, staring at them with their long hair and ripped clothes.

I can remember wondering what all these old people were doing down here. Now I'm down here with my parents, my Dad legally blind and my mother seeming to shrink as the days go on. Dawn just expploded here, a big orange ball. The coffee is strong in Starbucks as the morning workers come in for their fix, most likely grateful to have a job in such a messed up time.

I had to escape the hum of the tv. I have a progressive left perspective and can't stand to listen to what I feel are the lies presented by the corporate media. It is fun to think about other times when things weren't so complex.

Central Park June 08

I have always loved Central Park. Since I was a little kid I have enjoyed the sense of it majestic beauty. This understanding became more formal when in college a class I was taking on picuresque philosophy covered Federick Law Olmstead's design.

Train Boy on the White Plains shuffle...

Train boy on the White Plains shuffle....journey to the end of the night...Celine's dictum...where do you take the imagination to?...American virus snuffs out creativity we are all buffalo's wrapped up in plastic cellophane...just another complaint, just another preachy word...if it doesn't get sex or violence why bother to talk about it?...Madison Avenue has all convinced the 18-34 set has all the answers...you can see them go tap, tap, tap, tap on their cellphones as they mainline the video image into their brains so fast they can travel the speed of a network a true radio dream an another roadside attraction along the highway of wrecked indviduals who have fallen for petty jealousy so she wouldn't fuck me because I didn't have the green but as I look around this American landscape here in this American night not to many other's have any green left after American greed gorged itself on the fat of the land here in this American night lights reflecting off the cold avenue...