NWA Pride 2009

NWA Pride Parade marchers show support for gays
BY BRETT BENNETT Northwest Arkansas Times
Posted on Sunday, June 28, 2009

ANTHONY REYES Northwest Arkansas Times Participants in the 2009 NWA Pride Parade carry a section of a 30-foot-by-60-foot flag onto West Avenue from Dickson Street on Saturday in Fayetteville. Money thrown into the flag will benefit the AIDS Foundation.

Participants in the Northwest Arkansas Pride Parade came out to express themselves Saturday morning as they marched through downtown Fayetteville to the main Walton Arts Center parking lot along Dickson Street.

"There's a theme to this rally cry," Dirk Charlson said. "It's OK to be me." [READ FULL ARTICLE]

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And Gay Pride 2009 Around the world:

Brazil Gay Pride Parade Bombing Injures 21

China Gay Pride Week Squelched By State


No go for gay parade - Moscow

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YOU SHOULD KNOW "a New York-based coalition of anti-violence programs reports that bias crimes against LGBT people rose 28% from 2007 to 2008. The National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs (NCAVP) confirms the grim trend Unfinished Lives has been reporting for months: hate crimes against members of the sexual minority are not only higher than at any time in a decade, but the degree of brutality in the execution of these crimes has also intensified."

Learn More at Unfinished Lives: Remembering LGBT Hate Crime Victims

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HIDDEN HISTORIES:

My suggestion on this one: turn the music off. The lyrics are pertinent, but the music annoys me (sorry).

Looked for a lesbian retrospective, but didn't find one.

Of Skins & Hearts

THE SPOTLIGHT

Pantheons, pharaohs, dreams, magic, gold, veganism, yoga, psychedelia, hocus-pocus, transcendental railroads that all lead to OM, poems, art, hallucinatory realism, reincarnation, simultaneous lifetimes and travel by thought. What could be greater? Try a little "Ripple" from Priest=Aura, one of my top three favorite albums by The Church.

Ripple - Live from Melbourne 2006

THE STORY

Childhood: Sometime in 1983, or early 1984, I saw a music video for the song "The Unguarded Moment." At first I didn't watch, the television was just on, playing in the background, while I took care of something at the kitchen table. I was preoccupied, probably drawing or doing homework, but listening. It was the lyrics to the song that grabbed me. They felt more profound than all the other alternative songs I'd been listening to at the far left end of the radio dial. I thought to myself, "these guys are tapped into something spiritual, substantive... they're hip to what I'm gettin' hip to. I need to find out more." I left the table and stepped into the living room for a proper look, and to wait for the credits so I could jot down their name in hopes of purchasing the album, which turned out to be Of Skins and Heart.


That was my initial introduction to The Church. It wasn't until about a year later, around the age of 14, that my love for this band took root. My first boyfriend, Russ, was a 19-year-old bass player in various local punk/indie bands at the time and was already an intimate fan of the Church; he had EP's, 45's, bootlegs, copies of all that was cool and underground. I hadn't met anyone in my social circle who had so many of their records let alone had heard of them. Mind, it was winter, 1984-1985, in the Detroit suburbs--alt music wasn't even on mainstream radio stations yet. Our mutual interest was the fire that drew me in. Later that year, for Christmas, Russ bought me my second and third albums by The Church, The Blurred Crusade and Seance. When we broke up a few months later, I played those two albums incessantly. Together they formed the perfect love-gone-wrong soundtrack, with the song "It's No Reason" being particularly cathartic.


From then on I was a die-hard fan. Technically fantastic, lyrically deep, always growing and changing it up from album to album, they were the shite bomb, total perfection! And you know what? They still are. Their music is like a dream--the kind where you wake up and realize spirit does live beyond the body. Who needs drugs when there's The Church? Many times it's that good, especially live. I remember seeing a slew of shows back in the mid to late '80s in which the encore was "You took" and/or a cover of Neil Young's "Cortez the Killer." Both encores took me on this amazing trip as though I'd just dropped some acid and climaxed simultaneously with the audience in some kind of communal, tribal orgasm! And believe me, we were all feeling it on those nights--each and every audience member was there, right there, sharing the moment. It was nothing short of a religious experience! Transcendental and transformational, it was a moment of pure ecstasy.

I'm reminded of all this because today and tomorrow they play in my home state, Michigan. Unfortunately, I will not be there and who knows when they'll be back. Oh, lament! The last time I was fortunate enough to see them was a show they did in Memphis back in 2000, I think. It's been far too long. I wish I could see them, but even though I can't, I urge any of you who can to check their schedule for a show near you. If The Church is rollin' through your town, go see them play and then write me so I can share the experience vicariously. Their music played a big part in shaping my musical aesthetic and in many ways buoyed and furthered my budding spiritual practice during my teen years. To this day they remain at the top of my all-time favorite bands list and for this reason I pay them respect and extend my utmost appreciation. The music of our youth sticks, and The Church sticks good like a spiritual skin or a cosmic valve in the universal heart pumping woosh-woosh, lub-dub.

For "So Love May Find Us" tour dates, more music and videos, visit: www.myspace.com/thechurchbandofficial

p.s.: If you're a reader of this blog or a friend of mine who lives in NYC and want to fly me out for their July 8th show, I'm game. ;)

Not Ready Yet

This is a purdy tune. God, it must feel great to have a whole orchestra play your music. If you pay attention to the lyrics, note "Brooklyn, in the rain" at the end. Thought it would make a nice follow up to the poem I recently posted.

My fingers aren't light, I don't have many regrets, but I'm definitely not ready for the light to dim. As some of you know, I'm nervous about two lumps recently discovered during a self-exam since there's a history of breast cancer in my family through the generations. Ten years ago I had one removed that was benign, and since then had been clear. Finding two, now, is weighing heavy on my heart, making it ache all the more for certain people I love. Your thoughts and prayers are welcome. I'm hoping it will be nothing and should know definitively in a couple months (it's a process of moving up the diagnostic chain).

Peace, lovelies.

1990 - Park Slope, Brooklyn

(Untitled)

The rain, slow mad rain
stowed away among fingered roots
and black umbrellas
pressed against the Brooklyn sky.

Mid fall, Flatbush and Prospect:
the cold rest beneath a gray shroud,
loosely peeling from their forms
like rust on a wagon left out in the yard
too long.

Year after year it comes like this,
blows in with a slight shutter,
imperceptibly at first, until we sleep,
dreaming lives invisible,
as the earth closes itself around us.

The rain, slow rain,
turns to sleet then snow blanketing the ground,
muffles the clamor of the city streets
the way mother used to when she nursed me.

I believe there are miracles, as when
the city nods, momentarily
pristine, quiet, and oh so white.

Art 21 : Kerry James Marshall on Museums

...an impenetrable wall of homogeneity, almost. He makes a good point.

Red as Grace

No time for blogging, really. But I can spare a little time to share new discoveries. I came across Woven Hand this very evening by way of a new friend. (Seeing as they've been around for a while, including an earlier 90's incarnation as 16 Horsepower, I haven't a clue why I didn't stumble upon them sooner.) Filled with religious overtones without detracting, their music is a little moody, a little funky, a little Gothic roots blend and, overall, heavily textured, rich and gorgeous. Yes, gorgeous. I like. I like very much. Two more Woven Hand songs top out my player over in the yonder side bar: "Dirty Blue," the first to play, is immediately followed by the super funky "Truly Golden." Have a listen.

It's not about the vid comprised of two static photos, it's about the music. Close your eyes if you must.

Story and Pictures

shook out my salvation
in all four corners of my room
lowly is the dust
trustworthy the broom

white lady
growlin on a chain
peacock caw the sound of my lover's name
the tone was pure and played on gut
from your birdhouse aflame

your fire burns for me
red as grace
the blush came easily to your face
your fire burns for me
red as grace
and she says that none would have her

as a boy I too drew near
to the love of dust
toughskin blue light cowboy
idle hands they rust
I could hear the daylight coming
I could hear the darkness go
out of sight and out of mimd
if only it were so

let us allow the character to build
wise as serpents and harmless as doves
let's allow the emptiness to fill
rich mercy and brotherly love

Until...

OK, It's Morning

Slept in a little. Nice. Been on my new Macbook for a few days moving rescued data from my old Imac, sorting through old files, uploading new software and old software, smoothing out the OS wrinkles (compatibility issues), compiling lists of accounts spread out through the years over cyberspace--holy hell, I didn't realize I had so many! Who can possibly remember all those ID's and corresponding passwords? I've tried. I hate the idea of possibly living forever on some page in cyberspace long after I've passed from this earth. My friend Deva's Myspace page is still in existence. It feels wrong. Friends, I never want a memorial or a headstone, so please don't visit my blog like it's some sort of shrine should I die before it does. Really, it would creep me out. And believe me, I'll be watching. ;)

Ah, must be the buzz from the morning cuppa talking. I really only came on to say this: while banging away on the 'puter, I inserted Bird, a CD by Holly Conlan, and I have to say it's fab--absolutely Fab-u-lous! Back in the days of vinyl it would have been called an EP; it only has five tracks, but each is rich and beautiful--well worth a purchase! You can pick up your own copy at CD Baby. In the meantime, have a listen to the first track here:

Yes, this is my second plug for Ms. Conlan. When it's good it's good, innit? That's a rhetorical question. Good day, y'all.

Born On A Black Day Shot Through With Starlight

Is what it is, baby.

Spiritualized: Soul on Fire

Good, Brother

A short film produced about 9 years ago by a friend of mine, Matt Zacharias, which I'd never had the opportunity to see, until now. The film is based on the book Good, Brother, written by Peter Markus, a good friend of Matt's and former acquaintance of mine (by way of Matt) during my Detroit years.

It is a pleasure to share their work with you. The film is approximately 15 minutes long. To purchase a copy of the book, which includes other short stories by Peter Markus, click on the link provided above.

Adjust the volume on the video to hear the audio.

Credits

Directed by Greg Fadell and Matt Zacharias

Written for the screen and produced by Matt Zacharias

Cinematography by Greg Fadell and Matt Zacharias

Edited by Patrick Shaughnessy, Matt Zacharias and Gred Fadell


Cast

Jimmy: Thomas Scott Railton

John: Jonathon (Yoni) Siden

Mother: Camille Hutchinson

Father: Fred Chapman

Narrator: Peter Markus

The Sweet Do Nothing

Yes, I've been out of pocket. And I shall continue to be for a few more weeks, as I wrap up a couple freelance projects. After that I'll be busy tidying up the gardens and wrestling with the bamboo. Then it's off for a little travel, immediately followed by a very exciting move and putting the house up for sale.

I'll post and respond to comments as my schedule permits.

Also, I realize there are photos missing from several blog posts. This is due to my having moved their flickr locations. Once I'm settled at the new place, and have a chance to breathe, I'll begin the tedious task of sifting through the archives and updating image urls. I apologize for the inconvenience.

In the meantime, remember "Il dolce far niente!" (Thanks, Jay!)