Ethan Hawk of Dead Poet's Society is playing, it seems, a famous trumpeter with a drug habit. I only fell for him because when he was young he resembled Bernard when he was young and I was in awe of him. I call him the Tin Man because of another song - The Tin Man by America.
"Some times late when things are real and people share the gift of gab between themselves ..... But Oz never did give nothin' to the Tin man what the Tin man didn't already have ..... soap suds green like bubbles ... and cause never was the reason for the evening .... so please believe in me .... "Bernard calls me Darth Vadar since the twin towers fell down. He says I can't ever come back. He got stuck in Ayn Rand and I moved on to a greater Cause and Effect which is supernal. Physical cause and effect one can see. Drop a brick on your foot. Pain. Cause pain and effect comes surely, but not always swiftly. But it comes.
Bernard didn't want to get that. It's too Quantum.
Darth Vadar was a bit harsh, but sticks and stones and all that. I miss him. He's 60 now. I wonder what he looks like and how he is in the land of brave.
"How do you like me so far?" a man once said after shaking my hand at our first meeting.
Ethan Hawke, I don't know and I don't want to, especially since he plays parts that are indefinably disturbing. Acting hard roles for the sake of perfection, immersing one's soul into the underworld, on purpose and doing all you can to portray that soul you are playing, real or fictitious damages your Light. And then, sometimes, you die.
I can't watch the destruction of humans in slow motion. CHOOSE LIFE!
Passionate musicians should seek to be quietly noticed and they should not give a damn about fame and fortune.
When Elvis emerged I was quite a child and I remember the elders saying, "No good will come of this." When The Beatles came up, they said, "No good will come of this." When Bob Dylan came they said nothing except, "He can't sing." I don't mean the critics. I mean my elders. I agreed. I'm tone deaf so I can't sing. But, Bob Dylan is hard to hear.
It's just me, I discovered. I can't hear rap words either. I think Bob survived, (thumbsucking) because he didn't, doesn't, give a damn. Frankly. You can't mess with a human who has risen above froth.
And, you don't kill him. Heaven forbid. You give him a Nobel Prize.
What has this to do with Walls and Windows? There's a movie coming slowly to our net of the bush. THE WALL. Pink Floyd. Now, I like them, I do, but with the sound turned down. I fear it might be another fast forward movie for me, but I will give it a shot.
The window part escapes me now.
"I think it's going to rain today." by Bette Midler. My girls learned the words and they still sing it to me when I hit the deck with things empathable to cope with. Here is the picture of the video from YouTube but it won't play.
The words start...
"Broken Windows... empty hallways.... " and later, "human kindness, overflowing"
I had a picture framed and the glass broke in a move.
There is something about broken glass. The cutting edge times.
I've too little for you today.
Singing softly in my head songs that won't play here and sad I can't share them with you.
Check my facebook. They are there.
Music for my heart.
Love and Light