Last night I was digging through scraps of paper, business cards, names unremembered for someone in particular. I found a surprise.
Written on the back of a scrap of paper that read “Film Making” something or other, from a workshop sign at the Father’s Day bluegrass festival last June. I was bummed to miss the workshop, but thoroughly enjoyed my time working the backstage gate where I met everyone I could hope to meet. The night before was a magical evening jamming around a propane space heater with new friends and Hunter Berry, a fantastic musician on tour with Rhonda Vincent. We stayed up all night playing and singing, with a hard to beat impromptu band. We talked about what home means. I can’t recall the 80's rock song he sang on the guitar, but it set the mood that the professional bluegrass musician was a music fan. I played Rodney Crowell's “A Song For Life,” and it was amazing to have the caliber of supporting musicians.
And somehow I've learned how to listen
For a sound like the sun going down.
In the magic that morning is bringing,
There's a song for the life I have found.
It keeps my feet on the ground.
Rodney Crowell's A Song For Life.
The original version features the great Albert Lee as well as some wonderful harmony vocals from Willie Nelson and Emmylou Harris. The opening lyric is most often sang different than Rodney wrote it. As written: “I don't drink as much as I ought to. Lately it just ain’t my style.”
It seemed a perfect song as the cold light of dawn broke across the forest known as Grass Valley fairgrounds. We all shared a rare comraderie that night. Bleary-eyed and as they say at the Kerrville Folk Festival, ‘blissed out,’ I showed up for my last shift. No sleep. And a man, whom I will see again, started a conversation with me. It was a good one, and touched on a number of the most important things in life. He waved good bye, and after it was over, I searched for a scrap of paper to remember what had just happened.
He said to me “Peace” as he walked away. “It's a good life.”
A number of blogs appeared from the festival time, but this one is a decent entry. I went looking for a shot to show the trees. Here's my friend Tex Tankersley, from guess where, who lives in Reno, and is not the character I first discussed, but a great character just the same :)
Okay, back to February 2011, Curry County, Oregon where it has been incredibly nice lately. . .
I'd like to take this moment to say a few things about advertising and my blog. First of all, I recieve no kickback from any links at Amazon, nor anywhere else. I try to make it easy for folks to get to what I enjoy. I mostly don't buy mp3s online, preferring to encode to FLAC files from CDs. I do occasionally though, and choose Amazon because the mp3s are of higher quality than the leading competitor. The price is the same, and importantly, one does not need iTunes to deal with them. I buy most stuff from Amazon; one of my earliest purchases was the Manazanar book by Ansel Adams in 1998 mentioned the other day.
I use this blog to share my vision of beauty and to organize my thoughts. Many people these days call it ‘research.’ I have problems with this word being used to describe surfing the web. Nevertheless, when one begins to synthesize and prepare considered statements about the availability of products, it becomes more like research. (Scientific research is a very different concept in that far fewer people care about the results.)
There is an infamous Nikon camera reviewer who has polluted the web with his work. He seems to indicate that he pays for the products himself, but happily puts up pictures of his children while he begs you to buy products through links on his site. Whatever works. What really bothered me was my very own d5000. When shopping, this camera was very well-reviewed. But after Nikon dropped the camera and began to trumpet the D7000, that reviewer pretty much erased his former review to say, ‘get the d7000. It's a better camera.’ This leads to the very likely fishing for dollars he does to review products that will sell tons of units. By choosing to review popular products with an air of authority; well I hope you see where I'm going. I remain dubious of everything he writes. I hope you question my opinion similarly.
So I'm off the soap box and I appreciate your time reading these words. I am happy to report that my box of instax film has finally arrived!
The light entered the window by the woodstove. I set up a lot of shots lately, but this one was not. The polarizing filter, given by a friend is neat. Today was the first time I used filters of any kind on the old p&s. I was trying to reduce chromatic abberation on white, such as the note that opens this blog. If you have the inclination, you may really enjoy the great combo package of music and artwork available in this book. Art and music for fourteen US.
It takes a lot of patience to hear through the noise of 78r.p.m. records, but I will quote R. Crumb himself:
“When I listen to old music, it is one if the few times I have kind of a love for humanity.
You hear the best part of a soul of a common people.
It’s their. . .their way of expressing their connection to eternity or whatever you want to call it.
Modern music doesn’t have. . .a calamitous loss that people can’t express themselves that way, you know?”
The version of Little Rabbit on the disc is worth $14.
Art inspring life. I bought the book in late 2008. I photographed the pages to share with my banjobuddy Joseph in February 2010, and on June 10, 2010, I went to Otter Point and recorded this:
Thursday, February 10, 2011
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