BLOGPAGE AUGUST 2011
BLOGPAGE SEPTEMER 2011
Guatemala in English
MY LAI MASSACRE
World Community Arts Day 2010
Then later....at the Janette Williams Gallery
...notice the Janis Joplin portrait...Ruth got it.
..and Ruth even though she promised not to buy more
art, naturally bought more art, but she is more than generous and it
made Shelly and Lori's opening at least a little successful...
...and on down the street...
Afterwards we went to The Compound and had a
very expensive but delicious meal with our Madrid hangout buddies...
Ruth and Church being chummy.
...earlier in the morning...
Just back from seeing a VA counselor. Ruth
thought it was a positive visit. I thought it was a visit, and the
counselor was an okay guy, so I guess that means something....but to
learn I have a drinking problem is what I want printed on a T shirt
I WISH I HAD A BEER EVERY TIME SOMEONE TOLD
ME I HAVE A DRINKING PROBLEM...
My young friend Hank had that printed on his
T shirt. He died a year ago from cirrhosis of the liver.
Nobody is perfect.
Ruth is home and all is good again...
Now to get on with my task of resurrecting
It is all glued down . Now to get on
with recreating lost parts...
Hoorah! Ruth returns from New York tonight. I
really am not worth the proverbial hill of beans without her.
Working on another mural, and in the interim
my old friend from Scotland sent me a picture of a mural I did in
Edinburgh in 1973...and it reminded me of how much life changes and yet
some things just keep being the same...I spent over 4 months painting a
scene in Princess Street Garden, and got to know all of the people in
this painting by asking them to pose for me. Many of the people in the
scene are still good friends.
...and this is where I am at the moment, resurrecting
one of Ross Wards old one-day master pieces...and the irony is I am
theoretically getting paid quite good (that is if the Mineshaft doesn't
go bankrupt or such) while probably Ross was paid peanuts or
worse...anyway the canvass is so old, dry and thin it is like gluing
broken egg shells back together....thank God I got most of it attached
to the backing board yesterday. As you can see, there are a lot of
This monster was growing out in our yard. It is
completely enclosed, meaning there are no umbrella flutings on the
underside and it weighs over a pound. What the hell is it?
...and here is a little mushroom a bit more
It is my birthday. I am 67 and this is what
my daughter Rowan sent:
For Name Number 67
Ruled By 6 & 7
You get a very thorough analysis of No. 67 in Numerology Meanings. 6
and 7 add to 13 that adds to No. 4.
As such No. 4 controls you from the start. No. 4 is ruled by Planet
Rahu and it decides your day to day life.
As per name numerology, both No. 6 and 7 influence you. Planet Venus
rules over No.6 and Ketu over No. 7.
Venus & Ketu
As per numerology meanings Venus is the deity for arts. With a name
in 67 you do well to cultivate interest in this field. It fosters
your talents and makes you famous. As 6 stands for riches, you will
also be rich.
As per Name Numerology Ketu is an embodiment of knowledge. You have
the thirst for knowledge. However, Ketu does not foster family ties,
marital relations, or material riches. As such you are a product of
Venus and Ketu.
Numerology meanings for 67 reveal that you have the potential to
become a great artist. You are a tireless worker. You work hard and
achieve great fame. You get the support of highly placed persons and
As per name numerology, you can excel in any field of arts. Dance,
Music, Acting, Mimicry, and Film making will come to you easily.
Often you find persons with name in 67 talented in many branches of
these fine arts.
Fair Sex Connection
As per Numerology meanings for 67, your fame puts you into contact
with many women. You are likely to fall for them. Or you may become
infatuated. This applies breaks to your progress and ruins your
As per Name Numerology, if you are cautious and if you concentrate
on your mission, you will attain respect. When 7 is not afflicted,
it guides you into noble tasks and enables you to obtain the Grace
As per Numerology Meanings, No. 6 in 67 entices you to encash your
knowledge by showing off. You write books in the spiritual lines and
make money. You make tours, give lectures on these subjects, and
earn a lot.
As per Name Numerology for 67, if you are selfish, you meet with
failures. You lose your popularity and glory. You will end up with
failures. The 7 in 67 and 4 in the name number are best suited for
As per numerology meanings, Name Number 67 will not benefit if you
have no interest in fine arts. On the other hand, You become
frustrated. The name pulls you in one direction and your interests
pull you in the other.
As per name numerology, 67 is afflicted if you have 3 , 9, or 8 in
your numerology numbers. 3 is inimical to 6. 9 is inimical to 7. And
8 is inimical to 7. These numbers and Planets work for your downfall
As per Numerology meanings, your name is also afflicted if it
has name components in these numbers. If you want to have 67 in your
name, you must not have anti vibration from these numbers. That is
Getting on with the Ross Ward mural
restoration and this is what it looks like now...notice the missing
sections and they are just the big parts you can see with this
photo...the thing is damaged from one end to the other.
...and as for our recent excitement of seeing
Carlos Santana and a guy I have never heard of...Michael Franti?
For me, it was worth seeing a legend, because...hey,
that's Santana, the one and only...
Michael is the guy in the white hat...
Sept . 16
Just a few of the folks who were at our
spontaneous Virgo Party Last night.
...and I will start the restoration of the historic
Ross Ward Mineshaft Tavern Mural today...
Well...there was kind of a good thing that came along
with this photo but it got lost in the wave...cyber wave...anyway, here
is another photo of me being a lunatic with friends who also are
Now that all of the people have vacated our
house Ruth and I can get back to the life we have with each other, which
by the way is becoming more precious and rare every year. I guess we are
just becoming more selfish about keeping our world to ourselves and when
we want company we go out there amongst the cannibals and aardvarks of
So...now that my space is MY space again,
(aside from grudgingly getting out of Ruth's warpath from time to time)
I have gone back to pecking out a few words at a time towards concluding
the trilogy I started in the summer of 1986...hmmm, at this rate I might
finish it within the next ten years.
The third book is titled THE CRYSTAL TIGHT
http://www.blogwolve.com/CRYSTAL2011.HTM and the format I am
following is a series of observations and short stories detailed by
several different characters including God Almighty Itself that are
accounts of the protagonist Santiago McBoil. Of course Mr. McBoil
also shares his side of the story.
One interesting comment my old buddy Fred
Baue made during his recent visit was what he discerned of the tales I
told concerning my Harlequin Moon Trilogy. He thought the point
and moral was about ABSOLUTION....and I had to agree with him
completely, because in fact GUILT is probably the biggest obstacle to
climb over in the course of a long life---for who among us has not
fucked up royally with somebody somewhere and never ever again was given
the chance to make good?
This is especially true for my Santiago, for
he believes he assassinated 6 innocent villagers in My Lai, Vietnam and
yet he has survived alcoholism, cancer and even AIDES, but is still
alive baring the guilt of a murderer...but what plagues him worse than
the death of those people is the total screw-ups he has had in 6
separate love affairs spread over 40 years. So he is colossally crazy
and suicidal in more ways than you can shake the proverbial stick.
All I have to do in the next 50,000 or so
words to conclude this epic, is come to one resolution that fits all
shoes. In other words I have no idea how it is going to end or if any
one of these three books works with the other two...oh well I wondered
what I could putter with for the next few years.
All day we relive 9/11 and it is a time all
Americans will remember as the point of change...
As for my own thought, at the time the attack
happened, I could not help but think of the parallel between the Tower
of Babble and the World Trade Center. A tragedy of biblical scale.
Humility of the colossus...the giant eternally wounded by a rabid
flea...things thought but rarely said.
From Barry Graham
A year ago.
I am asleep when the killing
begins, and when news of it reaches the desert city
where I live. The
airports close, the offices empty and the
city soon has the feel of a Sunday morning.
When she leaves her office, she comes home and finds
me asleep. She shakes me awake and tells me what has
happened. I don’t take it in at first — the World
Trade Center reduced to rubble by the impact of two
hijacked airplanes, another plane flown into the
Pentagon, another down in Pennsylvania, thousands of
people killed — it sounds like a Japanese sci-fi
But she is serious, and when she has told me the
news she leaves me alone to wake to its reality. She
sits on the couch in the living room and stares at
the TV. I lie in bed and try to imagine it not as a
special effect on a movie screen, but as actually
happening in New York City and Washington, D.C. —
places I have walked around in, gotten drunk with
friends in the bars and clubs, eaten in the
restaurants, used bathrooms, slept, had sex.
She comes back into the bedroom. She doesn’t say
anything at first, just lies down beside me and
snuggles close, holding me tight. I know what she’s
thinking — that I travel frequently, and I recently
flew to D.C. and then went to New York.
"I’m glad you’re here with me," she says.
I get up, eat something, sit with her and our two
cats in the living room.
Our phone, which usually rings all day, sits in
sullen silence. On the TV screen, two planes that no
longer exist fly, again and again, into two towers
that no longer exist. We hear accounts of people
calling those they shared their lives with to say
that they loved them. The people who made the calls
no longer exist.
A day later, more than two
hundred firefighters have joined the dead they were
trying to save. For reasons I don’t
understand, it is when I hear this news that I start
Throughout the day, and the day after that, I notice
her looking at me. She doesn’t say anything about
these looks; she just looks at me. But I understand,
because I know that I am looking at her in the same
In the evening, I chop parsley and onions in the
kitchen as a piece of an animal slowly roasts in the
oven. The knife I am using was given to me by a
close friend who lives in D.C. She has e-mailed me
to say that she is all right. Other friends have
e-mailed with similar assurances. But there is one
friend in New York who is unaccounted for, and as I
chop herbs and vegetables and think about her, I am
grateful for the Merlot in the glass on the counter
beside me. I just hope there will be enough of it.
What we are seeing on the news is more than scenes
from an atrocity, though it is certainly that. It is
atrocious, but it is not distant or anomalous. It is
a concentration of real life as we live it every
day, even without violence against us. This is why
it is so terrifying to us — we are seeing that
people who got up and went to work as usual never
came home. Their lives were complex and certain,
like yours and mine. They had chores to get through,
things to look forward to, people they loved and who
loved them. They did not know that, for no reason,
no reason at all, they would not see the sun go
This is what scares us — that our existence seems
secure, the sun is shining, our hair is growing, our
bodies digesting food, and then darkness swallows
the sun. Darkness comes as an illness, an accident,
or as some madman who sacrifices us on the altar of
his own ignorance and hate.
People cease to exist, and those of us with some
time left look at each other, move closer to each
My missing friend gets in touch six days later:
i'm ok. totally shaken. shocked. devastated. i
cannot believe that happened. i cannot believe they
took down the world trade center. billowing clouds
of smoke/dust/ash/whatever still hovers over
downtown. but what it looks like to me is thousands
of souls in shock, not knowing where to go, and
lingering over their death site. the 1st night the
wind was trying to carry them out to sea, the second
night the cloud was moving uptown. it seemed to me
those souls did not know where to go. then it poured
rain all night and into the day and that settled a
lot of it, but it is still there. it was amazing how
quickly manhattan got closed off. i got stuck in
brooklyn for 3 days. the smell is strong. and the
views are tragic. people in brooklyn are finding
papers and stuff in their neighborhoods and on
last night i was driving through midtown and there
was a whole army of military vehicles driving along
side of me. military aircrafts circle manhattan, and
there are even warships on the hudson. very very
thanks for your concern. good friends travel through
the wtc everyday, and one works there. thankfully
they are all ok. i am so grateful. i can't believe
there is no twin towers. i really just can't believe
they did that. i didn't have any email access from
wed. until today. i have 65 email messages to get
through. i hope to talk to you soon.
A week passes, months, then it is a year. We have
tried to find something to do about it. Some people
bravely searched through ruins, at first for
survivors, then for the remains of the dead. Other
people — me among them — nervously searched through
other kinds of ruins for something useful to say
about it. Both kinds of searchers found little that
But, on this anniversary, we have to say something,
because the alternative is nothing, the same nothing
that thousands of people were turned into a year
ago, the same nothing that a man in the city where I
lived, a Sikh, was turned into a few days later by a
bullet fired into his head by a madman who mistook
him for a Muslim, the same nothing that unknown
numbers of Afghan civilians were turned into by our
nation’s militaristic scapegoating.
To say nothing is not an option, and to say too much
is to show too little respect for the awfulness of
what happened. So let it just be said that on a
Tuesday morning thousands of people, and tens of
thousands of lives, were destroyed for no reason.
And so were any illusions we had about our own
Detroit Metro Times, 2002
hmmm...It seem s my brain is slipping being I
put the photo below in an earlier post and simply forgot about
it...anyway old buddy Fred is still here and will be until Saturday. So
he is keeping himself busy playing music, writing a famous novel and
smoking his pipe and spouting philosophy on regular intervals.
He is writing a baseball novel, which in my
sense of what is leaves me completely baffled. I have never watched any
sport other than the Winter Olympics so writing about baseball for me is
...on the other hand I am in the last third
of my Harlequin Moon Trilogy...and it of course is fascinating and
naturally a literary marvel that should knock the critics on their
kiesters so to speak...hmmm...possibly my theme of following a complete
nutcase through a thousand pages will be almost as compelling to read as
a baseball novel.
Sept. 7...well, here we are, two old farts at the
Mineshaft and it is pretty funny because we both look like we are
having an advanced case of STAGEFRIGHT. I know for sure I was....I
have not been playing music with anyone for years let alone singing two
part harmony as we used to do...so we did and several people came up to
me and said, "Geez Ken, I didn't know you could sing."...even
though I have been making noise up there every Friday night for the last
two or three years...
A man was sitting on a
blanket at the beach. He had no arms and no legs.
Three women, from England, Wales , and Scotland ,
were walking past and felt sorry for the poor man.
The English woman said,
'Have you ever had a hug?' The man said, 'No,' so
she gave him a hug and walked on.
The Welsh woman said, 'Have
you ever had a kiss?' The man said, 'No,' so she
gave him a kiss and walked on.
The Scottish woman came to
him and said, 'ave ya ever been fooked laddie?' The
man broke into a big smile and said, no.
She said, 'Aye - Ya will be when the tide
Sept. 4 Sunday
My old buddy Fred arrived and hopefully will be here
for a few days..and we actually had a little spot on the OPEN MIC night
at the MINESHAFT in Madrid...
This photo is pretty funny if not unflattering but it
looks like we are having an advanced case of STAGEFRIGHT!