David Bowie, Duke Ellington, Beck, Dandy Warhols, Blind Melon, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Paul Simon, Shawn Phillips, Andrew Bird, Dave Matthews, Charles Mingus, Grateful Dead, Marvin Gaye, Eryka Badu, Herbie Hancock, Parliament, Portishead, Pavement, Pixies, Sonic Youth, Flaming Lips, Phish, Olivia Tremor Control, Super Furry Animals, Trent Reznor, Bitch & Animal, Gil Scott Heron, Grand National, Brian Eno, Morcheeba, Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Fela Kuti, Blood Sweat & Tears, Gandhi, MLK, Buddha, Sidhartha, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, Tom Robbins, Neil Gaimen, Winnie the Pooh
Sounds Like
a little bit of this and a little bit of that... probably sounds like everything i've ever heard
Well, as it's been told to me, it all started with my Birth. I whined and cried about it for a bit, but eventually I grew more accustomed and started to dodder around and bump into things and develop Spacial Relationships.
I grew up in a nice neighborhood with best friends living on one side of me, and on the other side was the mythical faceless neighbor, who was a grumpy old man who fixed watches, seldom came out into the light of day, and had what looked like a Spaceship in his backyard. We couldn't go in his backyard - it was fenced. Once we lost a ball over it, and my neighbor John (who is now a Buddhist monk in Japan) leaped over to retrieve it. Ostensibly, the whole operation had gone of smoothly, but then the next week he put barbed wire on the top of his fence. And stood in *our yard* to do it! The audacity! Often wasps would build Nests in the corner of his house and they would die and fall all over our driveway.
Life was full of Wonder and imagination, and I climbed trees and put on capes and fought imaginary monsters with sticks. But then the rents dropped me off at school, and I whined and cried about that pretty much for the next twenty years. I always got good grades without having to try to hard, so I had plenty of time to daydream and hum old melodies to myself and stare out the window... and at all the pretty girls. I learned to love staring at pretty girls, and that's really all I remember learning.
Then there was college. It was pretty much raucous, and again, I never did any of my homework. I figured since it was such a good idea in high school, it would be in college too, but there you're just missing out. It would be cliche to say I don't remember any of it... I really do if I try hard, but the Stories I could tell you would mostly sound the same if you weren't there. Some of the Stories I'm proud of and some of them I'm not, but most of them taught me quite a deal, books or no books. I had a Band, really a rather good Band, and we played all over campus and made people dance, dance, dance. We loved to play and they loved to dance, and that was a good symbiotic relationship. The parties were excellent.
After college I embarked on a long and mysterious quest for self-discovery and direction, complete with riddles, signposts, and (super)natural helpers along the way. I started it by getting on a Big Green Bus running on veggie oil, and catching a ride down to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina hit. Well, that blew my top off. If you haven't checked out the situation in New Orleans recently, DO IT. It's still a terrible mess, you wouldn't believe it, what a mess we've left of such a beautiful place and strong piece of our cultural heritage. It's Magic dripping down the walls, so swampy and sultry and dangerous and beautiful... when you see the world turned upside down, something turns over inside of you. That place had such a powerful gravity to it that my dear friend and partner Meg Perry left her physical body behind there. That really freaked me out and blew my head right open, and I had to sit and do some thinking by the fireside for a couple months. And some singing.
I once ate about five pounds of crawdads.
Then the magical mystery momentum continued under the guise of "The Farewell Tour." A veritable band of riff-raff embarked in a more toxic machine, a "Dodge Ram," heading westward in a windy sort of fashion. We avoided all highways and sneaked out of camp without paying. We drove on roads that said they were closed. We went spelunking and hiking and busking and corn-husking. We saw the the most breath-taking natural sights I could imagine. We saw the many careless ways the land is being exploited, the kind that makes your heart sink into your stomach and rot with the injustice of it all. We talked with animals and ghosts and faeries and old friends. We taught the children what we knew, and they taught us in return, making us again like children. Rivers and waterfalls sound like the chorus of ancestors far in the distance. We sang songs passionately, so that our voices may reach the other side of the sky.
I once slept in a ditch on the side of the road, because I couldn't figure out how to get back the way I came.
I was fortunate enough to happen upon generous souls called by "McKann" over in the Pacific Northwest. I slept in the woods in a tent for three months and worked in their garden and learned about mycology and ayurveda and meditated as I sorted their enormous record collection and played their old upright piano. I went south, and then I went east, and north, and now here I am back in Maine. I don't drive anymore, I ride my bicycle.
I like to make music. I love being alive. What a blessing it is to be here!
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"Be Here Now" Festival Scheduled for Starks, ME, August 14-16
Starks, Maine -- The hill at Harry Brown's Farm will come ALIVE
with music, giant puppets, belly dancing, and fire twirling three days during tie "Be Here Now" Festival this August.
Organizers hope to build on the success of “Harry Hoe-Down,” the first festival held on the site this season, where thousands of people braved the late June rains to bring to life Harry Brown's vision of “free people assembling freely.” An icon of Maine's counter-culture, Brown has been hosting festivals on his land for nineteen years to support efforts to legalize marijuana in Maine.
tomorrow dinnertimeish potluckish at my house.... friday night drinks somewhere tbd at 5 then an art show at 6 at 106 exchange st (nude performance art... you should def come):-)
I didn't get a chance to talk to you the other night. I wanted to let you know how much I loved your piece. It was pure, raw, funny but most of all it sounded so honest. I would love to hear it again.
sup homie? got yer msg the last night, but between the scholastic and the domestic I'm stretched to the limit energy/time wise...lets build over the break, I'm sick of talking about it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Where is that guy? I used to bump into him all. the. time... We gotta host a autumn bonfire over here then perhaps we can lure him with good food and strong drink and beautiful people :D
