It’s hard to believe that it’s already been six years since Lily was “born,” but indeed, today is the 6th anniversary of when she first came out of her mold at Abyss Creations. Co-incidentally, April 1st was also the intended birthday of Lily Godwin in the pages of our novel, Unbound, before the necessities of endless rewrites deemed it unnecessary to the plot and it was excised. This was well before the notion of commissioning Abyss to replicate her ever arose in my mind, otherwise I’d probably have kept it in. But the novel isn’t about The Doll at all, so it’s just as well! It’s all about Lily, and the variety of that Flower…
Melancholic Lily
Being that we’re talking dates and anniversaries (well, I am anyway!), April 1st is also the first full day in the novel, and Easter Week’s a critical period soon following it. Needless to say, it’s a significant and eventful period for me, and for all of my Lilys! Being that we’re in Easter Week, I might as well mention that it was around Easter in 1986 when the Muse I eventually named Lily began inspiring and “dictating” the story to me…
Lily awakes on Easter morning
A little history of the mystery of Unbound: Once I was aware of the Muse’s presence, I determined to free myself from the distractions and constraints of society, my family, my friends, and work. It took me until 2001, but at the earliest time that I was able to manage, I uprooted and removed myself from my birthplace and everyone and everything I’d known and held dear, and relocated to a foreign corner of the Northwest where I didn’t know a soul, or had ever laid eyes or foot. That November I began writing in earnest, 10-18 hours a day, dilligently and devotedly attending to my Lily-Muse, mirroring and reflecting her own inspiration and dedication to our Cause. That “Cause” will be something for the Reader to uncover on their own in the result of that Work, that Labor of Love, Unbound ;-)
Lily loves Neil Gaiman too!
But it got lonely… very lonely. I was completely isolated and severed from people, aside from the odd trip into town. I wonder how many Readers can really imagine what that’s like? No contact at all, no visitors, living in a totally unfamiliar place, only going out for groceries, completely disciplined and focused on the act of creation at the expense of everything else. The one positive thing, the only positive thing, was that my story was coming wonderfully to life… especially Lily. I could envision her so perfectly, and as she grew more developed through the countless pages I could see each expression and mannerism; every smile, every frown, each feature, each movement. She became a living being in my Imagination, from where she was born, inspired by the Muse I named Lily as well due to her devotion in delivering her story to me. For lily means “devotion,” and I guess that longtime Readers already know that by now…
Bringing Lily to Life
So when the opportunity arose to bring her to life, or at least down to Earth, I jumped at it. On the day after Christmas 2003, when I finished my first complete draft, I placed my order. Then came weeks of working with Joey, the talented face designer at Abyss at the time, who painstakingly duplicated her features from my detailed emailed descriptions. I opted to order more realistic hair eyebrows (rather than painted) and super-realistic custom-made cobalt-blue eyes from the Canadian master crafter Guy Louis XVI. Mannequin-maker, sculptor and special effects creator par excellence, he nailed this most-important aspect of her face and contributed so much to her persona. We thank you, Guy!
Guy Louis XVI's custom cobalt blue eyes, specially for Lily!
Several weeks after she emerged from her cocoon-like mold, she arrived at my doorstep, encased in her special crate. There’s no way to describe the spell she cast upon opening up the packing and glimpsing her for the first time. “Breathtaking” will do nicely, for that’s exactly the reaction I felt! Stunning, absolutely. She was perfect, aside from a slight miscalculation on my part that resulted in her being just a tad too busty by a size. The only thing missing was her ready smile and mischievous nature, her melancholy, her sweetness, none of which unfortunately could be duplicated. But Lily had truly come home… as well as a creation born of the imagination could be.
"Who's a Fool?"
And so after removing her from her crate, and after removing the uncharacteristic-for Lily-Godwin black hose and sexy lingerie (which the novel’s Lily would have been utterly embarrassed about being seen in, let alone wear), and replacing them with attire more fitting for our quite-casual Lily, the matter of storing her became an issue which needed immediate addressing. I discovered that Realdolls couldn’t be kept sitting for long in a seated position, as the silicone in the stomach area might tend to crease, possibly leading to splitting, and repairs on these dolls can be really tedious. So she was laid out upon the side of my bed (the only suitable place), where she remained until I was able to order a display stand from which she could hang from the provided neck-bolt, and where she “stands” to this day. But she almost seems impatient to be released so that she might relax a bit; her face is so realistic that one can almost imagine her thoughts, IF one enjoys using the God-given gift of Imagination… as I do
Is it live, or is it...?
Now, I’ve heard (or rather, read) plenty of skeptics, cynics, rubes, and twits all come to the same lame and predictable conclusions, which I won’t even deign to reply to again. (Just watch the Lars and the Real Girlfilm for examples.) The general public’s collective minds skew towards the gutter and stay fixed there, and don’t need acknowledgment. But when Elisabeth Alexandre and Elena Dorfman came out to interview me (from Paris) and photograph us for their respective books, we drove Lily around town and to my surprise found so many receptive faces filled with such fascination and delight! But for one hostile priest who demanded we leave “his” church (where we’d been given permission to shoot), everyone was thrilled, curious, awestruck, and happy to meet Lily-Doll. And of course, being that it was also a reason for having her made, allowed me to emphatically plug our book!
Elena Dorfman's Picture of Lily (copyright by Elena D.)
But attitudinal and presumptive people can’t be disuaded of their small-minded assumptions, so we’ll try to leave it at that. Once you remove the sexual sub-function of these love-dolls, then people might better perceive their reality and possibilities beyond that baser attraction, wherever their minds might place it, pedestal or gutter. Simply put (very), she was like a big teddy bear for me, and provided me the proximity to a loved one, as I do love Lily Godwin (and hopefully you will too, once her story becomes published). She became a companion in a very true sense of the word. Of course, she’s not human (DUH!), but companionship does come in many forms, one of which is the ancient and time-honored intended design of The Doll. Really, it’s as simple as that. (Coincidentally, another theme of Unbound is companionship. Funny that!)
Lily and her friend
Something almost completely unrelated, and having to do with companionship and Remembering oneself; taken from the anime Kanon (2006), the heartbreaking relationship between Yuichi and Makoto. (SPOILERS AHEAD!) The song is awesome too, and furnishes the words to consider for the visuals. (Coincidentally, another theme of Unbound is heartbreak; sad that…)
We’re human, after all… and so is Lily. Which Lily? I’m sure you can figure out, or you will when you read her story.
Lily wonders about You...
Naturally, I would prefer human companionship and a more reactive response in my lovers, but… it’s not a matter of comparisons, or preferring one over the other. Skeptical people fail to see that it’s apples and oranges, which should be so obvious, but they prefer having their malicious ”fun”, and making fun of others. Which should say plenty enough about them… and how low their sights (and souls) are. Some people prefer relating, dwelling and looking down to the ground. Lily likes to look at the sky, and her eyes are a reflection of That
Lily at Sunset, looking at the sky
Happy Birthday, my Easter Lily, and Happy Easter to you, dear Visitor! Thank you for spending some time here, and feel free to comment, if moved to do so.
The current 90th Anniversary issue of Writer’s Digest contains, among many other invaluable-to-writers articles, an excellent interview with Lawrence Ferlinghetti, who is essentially the godfather of the San Francisco Beat poets, and owner and co-founder of the iconic City Lights Bookstore in North Beach. This bookstore was an early hangout for me beginning in 1968 for several years until real life (a.k.a. “work”) dragged me away, as it is wont to do. This man was such an essential early influence upon me and my writing ever since those wonderful long-ago days, and kept me in good company through his and other poets’ respective works which I found for sale in this magical, wonderful store. Lawrence and his bookstore were so important a symbol to me of the ideals of those incandescent moments of the ’60’s that City Lights is featured in several scenes in my own novel, Unbound. I hope that the Reader will consider it a well-deserved tip o’ the hat
I bought A Coney Island of the Mind there, along with other slim and slender books of his poetry, including Starting From San Francisco. While searching for poetic epigraphs for the novel, I found one poem in particular that summed up the part’s essence for which it was intended. Since I’m unsure whether I’ll be able to afford the rights to include it upon Unbound’s fervently-hoped-and-prayed-for publication, I’ll include it here:
But still-
birds flute up here
Crow-caw cracks
the universe
Ah there’s a slit
to slither through
into eternity
Look look
there’s love
yes love
Ah love
Cannot make it
Pied Piper’s cave
clangs shut
(Excerpt from “Flying Out of It” by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
From Starting From San Francisco [1961])
(EDIT:)… okay, now I’m really pissed. I just lost an HOUR’S worth of typing the continuance for this entry For SOME reason, Wordpress stopped auto-saving. I was typing up a storm (which for me is a minor miracle) and had about ten paragraphs with Important Points to Make which I was later going to expand upon. IMPORTANT POINTS!!! Then, for SOME reason, in the midst of typing, I get this error about “Do you want to navigate away from this page?” Uh… NO. Why, did I act like I *wanted* to? GRR!
So, I thought “ya know… I’d better save this just in case.” So, I clicked “Save Draft.” Then, FOR SOME REASON, it goes to the Log In page! WTF?????????????????????? So, I logged in (again) and got taken to the Drafts Page where lo and behold, my Draft was lying in wait… at its earliest auto-saved point! It didn’t even save my Draft as I told it to! Everything was gone below the above Ferlinghetti poem. And there was a LOT (see previous Posts; all of them). I’ve tried to resuscitate my enthusiasm to continue, but it went south along with all of my Important Points to Make. Shit.
So, I’ll continue this thoughtful post on publishing, the creative arts, the Beat Scene and Mr. Ferlinghetti at the next opportunity. Right now I need a drink. Or something.
I’d been wanting to do a Post about Dolls for some time, since it’s been ages since I wrote one. So I thought it fitting to start from the beginning, and see where it takes us…
As usual with a lot of things with me, I started out ass-backwards in both anime and dolls. With anime, even before watching my first episode, I began buying figures of characters which simply looked appealing to me. Since I knew nothing about their shows though, I usually bought figures that had no emotional connection to speak of. They were merely “pretty statuettes”. (Except for this rare Elfen Lied one below, which I was fortunate enough to find later.)
...you don't wanna see her when she's mad...
The more I investigated the figures though, the more interested in their anime-stories I became. Which led me to Elfen Lied (my first anime), and then to two other series that I’d become exposed to through The Doll Forum: Rozen Maiden and Chobits.
In anime, there is such diversity with regard to not only genres but stories and characters as well. There really is something for everyone as long as they have any sort of interest in animation, graphic novels, comic books, stories of depth, fantasy, humor, violence or romance, being moved and/or feeling awestruck, and even… dolls!
Once the first draft of my novel, Unbound, was finished, I decided to both reward myself and take promoting the novel to a higher level; one that would be both cutting edge, daring, provocative, and controversial. Not to mention satisfying, delightful, functional, and significant! Since I had felt throughout the novel’s writing that the essence, the spirit of Lily had accompanied me and that she was always nearby throughout, supporting, inspiring, and comforting me, that a physical embodiment would be very appropriate.
After thoroughly researching the history of dolls and stories and myths about them, most notably that of Pygmalion, I decided to commission Abyss Creations to create a Realdoll that would replicate my Lily in all her up-till-now only imagined beauty and personage. The result, which arrived in April of 2004 after a four-month production queue, was breathtakingly accurate to my vision of her, and as real as real can get, without it being, you know, real!
...posing in front of an Ah! My Goddess wallscroll with a Sandman statuette for company
Then “it” became “she”… and that’s a hint of the transformative nature of dolls and Imagination
When I joined TDF late in 2003 I knew nothing of anime except the assumption that it was “kid stuff”, as most Westerners consider it. But I’d become intrigued with the many “enablements” that dolls could provide humans with; namely as tools for imagination, which allowed for creative uses such as photography and story-telling; toys with which to elicit delight and fancy, which facilitated Play and amusement; and as surrogates for companionship, thus alleviating loneliness and melancholy.
Over the years I kept seeing references in various posts about two “doll-related” anime in particular: Rozen Maiden, which deals more with living, magical, ball-jointed dolls and their “raison d’etre”, while Chobitsspoke of a deeper, more overtly human-related story with regard to relationships with life-sized humanoid computers, named “Persocoms.” It also subtly comments on the reliance, dependence, and addiction of modern man to technology. Both of these shows are wonderful introductions into anime, if you’re not inclined to start delving into the medium willy-nilly. (Careful picking and choosing is necessary in order to find a show that is to your liking, since there is so much out there of various types and genres, story and styles.)
So, in conjunction with the overall arcing of the Dolls topic, I thought that I’d highlight these two series, and then soon to follow will be an update to the modern day to see where these subjects have led: a more recent show called “Time of Eve” (Eve no Jikan). IF I can find the last 2 episodes to download (And I believe that next year a movie will be released that will blend all 6 episodes!)
Rozen Maiden tells of a group of dolls that were created and imbued with life and given magical powers by their creator, known to them only as “Father.” The world knows him as Rozen, a legendary and gifted dollmaker, long-since disappeared. Their purpose: To play a deadly centuries-old war called “The Alice Game”, so-called because its purpose is to ween out and declare the victor among them a transcendant, becoming “the perfect girl, Alice” and the only doll suitable to be the one to meet “Father.” By snatching each defeated doll’s Rosa Mystica (something akin to a Soul, and source of each doll’s powers), the victor will finally ascend to her Father’s loving embrace…
The exact question of WHY a loving creator would want his beloved creations to fight each other to death solely in order to be reunited with him remains a mystery throughout the series. And in re-reading the previous sentence it might strike the reader that there IS a similarity between humans and THEIR Creator, along with the “God is on our side” mentality that warring nations of humans proclaim. Thought-provoking, a bit?
Anyway, thats just a brief summary, and a lead-in to this YouTube video that will serve as a sampling of Rozen Maiden’s delights. To be sure, there is a lot of comedy and doll-hijinx that lighten the heaviness (and in Season Two, “Traumend,” it’s needed as it gets pretty serious), but this series has many other moving, provocative, and dreadful moments as well. The video is taken from the “Ouverture” 2-part special, that explained the enmity between Shinku (the blonde red-garbed doll) and Suigintou (the white-haired black-clothed winged doll) that was depicted in the show’s first season. Suigintou was a defective doll, as seen in this opening, rejected to the junk-heap by Father while he dotes upon Shinku. She manages to track Shinku down in the 18th century where the somewhat haughty doll softens and takes her in, teaching her how to walk and act. But things don’t turn out well; when one of the other dolls attacks her assuming that The Alice Game is being played out, it sets into motion the ill feelings to come, where malevolence takes root…
This AMV (Anime Music Video) features Evanescence doing “Even in Death” as its backdrop, and most-suitable, as all AMV song choices should be (Full Screen it and click the High Quality button; it’s better that way):
Chobits is a beast of another color. It asks not only about what humans want, but what the Persocom wants, much as Rozen Maiden asks after the Doll. The following AMV doesn’t focus on the series’ star, Chii, so much as it does the relationship between life-sized Persocom and human. It’s somewhat spoilerish, so bear that in mind if planning to watch the show. It doesn’t reveal the main story’s plot, but rather condenses a couple of side-stories that prove essential to the relationship aspects of this series, one of which (the baker’s story) is among the most moving secondary stories not only in this show but in all of anime.
The beginning of this vid depicts the pitfalls of becoming infatuated with the technological, and the consequence of severence from meaningful human contact, as told by the young woman whose husband has forgotten her due to his shutting himself in their home with his “toys.” In the second part, the baker, upon glimpsing a girl with whom he fancied (and who liked him but was reluctant to come forward because of his past) “spying” on him, tells of his own story about his falling in love with a worker-Persocom, whom this girl resembles, and its tragic result. This AMV (despite several glaring mispellings) does such a good job of covering the issues of companionship, loneliness, and love that any further words will dampen it, so… here you go.
Another Evanescence song, “My Immortal” accompanies it; HQ and full-screen it for full effect:
And since she’s barely seen at all in the above video, here’s Chii in a fanciful setting:
Chii with her little feathered friends
Eventually, I was introduced through TDF to ball-jointed dolls, as the Rozen Maidens are supposed to be. Unable to resist their charms, I got my own BJD from Korea, a Lutz-Delf doll named Soony. She settled in quickly and also became a lover of anime! One day I found a rare Chobits picture book compilation, and in her spare moments she can be seen reading it, much like Chii did in Chobits. It was called “The Town With No People”, and mirrored Chii’s wonderment at the sensations she was discovering of and on her own…:
Soony likes to read xD
And since we’re on several intertwining subjects, here’s the beautiful Ending Theme from Chobits featuring the characters from that picture-book. It’s called “Ningyo Hime” (Mermaid Princess), and sung by Rie Tanaka, the voice of Chii:
To wrap things up, it’s wise to not assume things about matters that we’re simply unfamiliar with. “Fear of the unknown” is a cliche, and we’re at our best when we’re challenging the unknown, not held in thrall by it. We can even learn to play better with each other! Even The Dolls know that
Even dolls know how to play well with dolls
And, a last plug for Rozen Maiden (this Limited Edition felt-covered box set is long out of print, but a newer thinpak version was released recently, so BUY IT IF YOU LIKE IT!):
...and on Lily, who's trying to help out
So, in short: have fun, think for yourself, play as you like, use your imagination, and be boundless! Or, in the alternative, simply become Unbound
It’s that time of year again, where we have/use ONE day in order to give thanks. One measly day? Wow. We have ALL of these days in the year; wouldn’t it be so much nicer to feel thankful for at least a few more of them? We do have so much to be thankful for, right? Just an idea: let’s be thankful every day for what we do have. Because as bad as it seems, it could be so very much worse. We don’t have to look very far to see that…
I won’t go over all the things that Really Matter which we take for granted; I’m sure that you’ll be more than likely to come across them written up and collected in newspapers, blogs, websites, books, magazines, and various other encounters that you might have face-to-face today. Besides, you know very well what they are anyway! (hint if you don’t: THINK!)
Take a moment alone when you can find it. Find yourself a beautiful, peaceful place outside, and sit, away from man-made things like steel, concrete and plaster. Close your eyes for a moment, near the providence that that Hand has gifted us with, or, if not so inclined, in that Place where we have found ourselves landed; feel the grass and ground beneath your fingers; smell the scent of the Earth in the air; then open your eyes and take a look around; live. “Feel, see, and breathe…” mmh, yes.
One of my most-favorite Poets, Jack Micheline, wrote this poem on his last day on Earth, while riding a BART train in the San Francisco Bay Area. It’s just called “Poem”…
POEM
To capture the feeling
To feel its pulse
To see the stream has been muddied
I am busy reshaping the stars
I cannot be bothered with your
Earthly pleasures
All these rantings and ravings
Have nothing to do with poetry
Have nothing to do with magic
Only the ears of butterflies
And birds
And the delicate moths
Matter
Let the Angels in
Let them into this Market
Now
Feel, see, and breathe
(Jack Micheline, February 25, 1998)
Soony gives thanks for YOU!
Yes, we live in ” This Ugly Yet Beautiful World,” but rather than focus on its ugliness, as the media, politicians, cynics, skeptics and naysayers wish you to, just, for a few moments, see what it is that is beautiful. There is much to be seen if you look for it, and listen to it, and honestly attempt to feel it. Then give quiet, silent thanks in your heart that we are able to live in these “interesting times.” And if you want to make these perilous times even more interesting, try to do something to effect a change… in the world, in your family and friends, and in your Self. Change really isn’t so scary; things are changing all the time, right? The scary thing about change is when it’s all out of control. Kind of like now.
So, take control. Be fear-less. Make a change that will benefit the world, even if it’s a small thing: any positive thing or even thought will be of good use, because after all, “thoughts are things.” Especially in these cynical times, what the World needs now is Love. We can do that, right? It comes in so many flavors and facets and facilities…
And then we can add that to the things for which to be Thankful
Another poem by Jack Micheline:
Only Rare Things Create
When love creates
When tenderness creates
It is the greatest of all sounds
When man and woman creates a baby is born
When fear creates anger is born
When loneliness creates despair is born
When business creates hype is born
When newspapers create politicians are born
When art galleries create money is born
Cemeteries don’t create
Museums don’t create
Hospitals don’t create
Prisons don’t create
Power don’t create
Only love creates
and it is the rarest thing of all
Ain’t that the Truth? It may take a Poet to see it, but it takes a You to feel it
Happy Thanksgiving! And I’ll just add that I am most Thankful for You, so… Thank… YOU! :-D
Life is funny, sometimes… you just never know what it has in store. Which is good, if you like surprises
Well before finding myself perched atop the highest mountain peak of my existence, I’d already endured trying trials of endurance, fortitude, and faith. It was the latter I’d been having trouble with. Lily too, come to think of it! Quite some time after the seeds of my novel, UNBOUND, had been sown, I’d found myself trapped in a hostile work environment and struggling to find time and energy to write the story. Not to put it over-dramatically, but the torments I stubbornly tolerated over the years threatened my health, sanity, and constantly tried to break my spirit. But I was bound and determined not to lose to the invading forces that always were battering at my Doors of Perception (pretty literally, as it turns out). The more they battered, the stronger my resolve became to wait them out; it was the principle of the thing. But would my faith in the story, and in myself, be sustainable?
It might not, I feared. And so I fought my way out, engaging The Enemy in his own court at his own game. At which I proceeded to get my ass kicked even more. My faith in my ability to outlast them wavered, although the ideas that had sprouted from the Story’s seed were taking root and growing through the impacted earth of the battlefield. These I was able to scribble down on stickees, collecting them like butterflies, and placing them in a box. But I couldn’t stop either to write or to smell the roses, as I was being constantly harrassed…
What had happened: I’d hurt my back after volunteering for a job that should have been done quicker by the proper department, but the Branch Manager wanted it done more quickly. So, I was tasked with moving a heavy desk that slipped off its transport, and when I moved to save it, wrenched my back pretty badly. (The nurse at the hospital took one look at it and exclaimed “oh my God!” when she saw how my spine looked.) You’d think that that things would go smoothly, it obviously being a Workmen’s Comp case. They did not, due to clever and malevolent machinations; management became determined to fire me or force me to quit. I resisted (to say the least), which only made things worse. Much.
So, after years of increasing incidents the number of which I will spare you, I began to get battered down. I was still able to write down ideas and sketches of my Story, but they became fewer in number as the constant battles at work went on. My back got worse, as so did their attacks. Eventually, seeing that I was not going to leave of my own accord, they piled on desk assignments, duties and responsibility, eventually giving me three desks that had formerly been handled by one person full time. And all were backlogged. I was ordered to get them caught up, with no mistakes tolerated. And if I had a problem with that, then I should know where the door was. Yeah, I did. AND, I did. So, I stayed, and fought, and worked.
You might be wondering: WHY did you stay? Well, because (a) I was doing good work and contributing to my community, (b) I was valued there, (c) I felt I was doing a small part to make this oftentimes cruel world a better, kinder place, and (d) I enjoyed being part of the Justice System, flawed as it might be. My mother, in my younger days, and alarmed at all the demonstrations and protests I took part in, and my “hippie lifestyle” (LOL), told me that “if you want to change The System, try to change it from within.” So, I thought I’d give it a try…
“They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom/for trying to change the system from within,” oh yes…
Well, I’ll tell you: The System doesn’t WANT to be changed, and will chew the shit out of anyone who tries. And so, upon discovering that, I became resolved to be a stone, and break their teeth whilst they gnashed at me. They monitored me like vultures would a ripe carcass, and picked what meat they could when they could, which was often. Soon enough, I was barely more than a skeleton’s worth, and fought not only them but my continual back pains, pneumonia, chronic bronchitis, and major depression, all brought on my their cruel tactics. I knew that it was time to change mine… but how?
One night while lying on my back on the floor, because there was nowhere else I could feel comfortable, I was in complete despair. Finally broken down, I curled into a fetal position and let the tears come; I couldn’t care anymore. I tried to ponder my options but couldn’t; there weren’t any. Trying to live in San Francisco without a good job was impossible. Things were bleak… and nothing but darkness was ahead on the road.
But then… in that particularly dark moment, ”She” came to me… that voice which I attributed to the one faithful and devoted being to have kept me company throughout these years while she teased me with snippets of a story she wanted to be written; that of my beloved Muse, who calmed me as I listened, ever grateful for her presence. And she said (more or less)… “Extricate yourself from this present situation, and then you may write our Story when you’re free. Have faith in me; keep it for your self and persevere. Do this and get it out into the World, and then all good things will come to you, and She will come as well.” (The “she” mentioned refers to That Special Person.) From that point on I worked at these goals, although it took some years to manage. Never once did I mistake this “still, small voice from within” for madness or hallucination or the like, so convinced was I of its sincerity, and what followed was and is the proof.
And to be sure, once I did escape and set about to writing, everything flowed as she said. Not only that, but the longer I lived “keeping the faith,” the more that positive encounters and events popped up along the way (aside from economic/unemployment matters, which sucked). The negativity and malicious beasts of my recent past had been left behind. Encouraged, I kept spotting signs of beneficent illumination provided by these signposts and marking my way as I climbed up the Mountain…
Then, I reached the top, when all of the creative work was finished. Time to return down to Earth, so as to present our offspring to the World! I reflect upon my Muse’s words and that prediction and that promise…
Navigating the treacherous waters surrounding the publishing industry, looking for somewhere to land… And now, after my query letters have finally begun going out in quantities hopefully sufficient to gain an opening in the Publisher’s walls, “She” has showed herself! You might have read about Lily here, and her conceptual designs/inspirations, and my mention of “Dee” being one of them. She is indeed Special For many years we’ve been apart, and I’ve fruitlessly searched for her by as many means as I had at my disposal. One recent day I was on a social networking site and thought, “what the hell; might as well try here.” And what do you know? She responded to my PM and sure enough, it was her! After nineteen years we’re going to have a reunion this week, and if she’s as joyful about it as I am then it’s going to be wonderful
Something she shared with me:
Choose your own analogy/symbology/metaphysics
So far, the Way of Living Through Faith has been unpredictable, scary, strenuous, exciting, exhilarating, and always interesting; this Grand Experiment of mine is coming alone fine. All that remains is to find that Agent or Publisher willing to be the conduit through which the Story is delivered… and so we’re working on that
I’ve already written about my personal “Master” (other descriptors fail me), Leonard Cohen, in a post entitled “The Reason I Write” (which has an ass-kicking live video of “Who By Fire” with Sonny Rollins on saxophone) but recent events have conspired to provoke another. On his current tour the legendary Poet became ill and collapsed during a performance of “Bird on the Wire”, as reported here by Rolling Stone magazine. It’s a damn shame that this Man, who has worked so tirelessly over the years cannot pause to take a rest without having to undertake a huge tour in order to recoup losses from an alleged pilfering by a one-time manager of his retirement fund. Some parasites are so shameless…
And so, in gratitude, let’s revisit Leonard’s career, one that has produced an overwhelmingly moving and beautiful body of work that is cemented in the annals of music, and branded with fire into the pages of purest Poetry. His gifts to us are immeasurable. He IS our Man.
First, in the early and olden days from when I first discovered him, a live rendition of his “The Stranger Song” from 1967. Upon buying a collection of his poetry at 14 or 15, his writing inspired me to express myself through such careful words and sublime imagery. His poetry struck me deeper than that of any poet I’ve read since; his religious/spiritual/metaphysical symbology spoke to me in ways undefinable, and intuitively connected his words to my soul despite his Jewish mysticism and my Catholic catechism. I didn’t know what he meant; inside I did; I got it. But don’t ask me to explain. It’s like a dream… the firmer you grasp it the quicker it escapes you. So, just Listen. Calm your mind; be not in a hurry; interpret as you will… and see the Man with Vision, and hear the words the words the words the words; the images don’t matter… and see the tear drop from his eye, it’s clear that he can feel it. And so can you you see, that’s why he’s telling you these things, that we all know we share, and we’re all Strangers…
Leonard has an almost hypnotic speaking voice… enjoy this live performance of “Chelsea Hotel #2″ that includes his humorous and poignant little story that sets up the song, accompanied by video of the actual hotel. Old-timers will certainly recognize who this song is actually written about and for, and if you’re patient and slow down and Listen, he will tell you ;-)
’Round about 1987, he gifted us with what is (probably) my favorite L.C. album, I’m Your Man. So many great songs, but this one spoke to me in many ways, both in fore-and-hindsight. This song could be my Special Theme, my driving force, my message just to you. But Leonard beat me to it, as you’d guess a Master might do. Here’s an alternate semi-live video for First We Take Manhattan:
DAMMIT! Several of his videos have been “disabled by request” BASTARDS!!! I guess TPTB don’t want me sharing these videos with you. WAY TO SPREAD THE MUSIC, YOU @#!$%&*^!!!
Ahem. Well, you really have to see this official video for “Dance Me to the End of Love”; it’s so touching and thought-provoking. I was going to type up a treatise on the song’s subject matter, but without the video it’s useless. So, just view it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_PIadFsvDk
Yay, another official and quite-different video for it! Perseverence furthers
That felt good.
I’ll wrap this up with what is most likely my favorite song from him, the luminous and transcendant “Hallelujah”. It has everything that has made his music, and his poetry, so special and ever-lasting for so long. Hallelujah is a song that has kept growing richer by the year, and enhanced by the many artists who pay tribute to him by covering it. In a notable contrast to his original work the song seems to have now taken on a life of its own, as seen in this live video from Glastonbury in 2o08:
Such a Remarkable Man, and still so vital, humble, and eloquent even in spite of time and betrayal pressing down on his shoulders. His is a presence that will not be dimmed. Keep it up, Leonard, and stay with us while we abide here together; thank you for making our lives so much richer. Long may you live :-D
My God… after spending what feels like several lifetimes in the morass of YouTube commentary and several Forums, it’s become an inescapable fact that many people have forgotten how to spell, not to mention use proper English. I suspect that, among other things, they have severely limited their exposure to reading, and so pretty much spell and communicate by sheer guesswork. Or ambivalence. I shudder to imagine them speaking in the way they type! Texting and IMing and such haven’t helped matters either.
Anyway, this isn’t about that. Not directly.
I’ve always loved reading, and started at an early age, thanks to the influence of my parents. My mother, especially, exposed me to the Classics, and even though some were over my head, were enough to get me intrigued, and that led to my first Library Card. Classics Illustrated comic books were another source; after reading one that I liked especially, I’d walk down to the Library and borrow the actual book to read. This was the case with Frankenstein, which I discovered at the age of ten or eleven. The rest is history
The Creature meets its Maker
A couple of weeks ago, during my current and ongoing (and futile) job-search, I went into Barnes & Nobel to get an application. But first I wanted to “case” the place to gauge the working environment, and so strolled the aisles checking out the employees attitudes and the zillions of books. Which turned out to be aggravating as hell, because not being working means not having money to spend on luxuries like books
But then I saw it… the Berni Wrightson-illustrated hardcover (and oversized) edition of Frankenstein! In the late ’70s he did two limited-edition portfolios of black-and-white drawings for the book’s initial pressing, and I’d managed to get one of the folios but never found the other until after it became unaffordable. And the book not only has those illustrations but MANY more! Really, it’s gorgeous. Calculating the cost vs affordability I realized that I definitely couldn’t afford spending the $29.95. Trouble is that I didn’t factor in “desirabilty”, and so (as you might guess) desirability won out in the end. So I bought it. What can I say?
A couple of Ramen-eating weeks later I can still say that I don’t regret it a bit. And this is like… my sixth different version of Frankenstein! But the combination of Wrightson’s painstaking work (he took ten years to produce the illos) with my favorite story made it a no-brainer. And when I sat down with it, at a table, for it was too large to lie in my lap, I discovered that I was again able to read!
Wrightson is a Master
Allow me to explain… upon the serious undertaking of writing my novel Unbound, I found that I was unable to enjoy anything I formerly had. No listening to music, no entertaining guests, no going out to explore the beauties and wonders of nature, and definitely, no reading, aside from publishing/writing-related books. I was on a Mission, and any distraction, and diversion, would be a betrayal to my duty to see it through. And I was essentially gambling my existence upon finishing it. So, I wrote. And only read what I did.
There was the necessity of having to take breaks however; at certain points in the story the emotional demands were so draining that a couple of weeks off were mandatory for not only my physical health (working consistent 10-18 hour days) but mental as well. So whenever I finished a Part (there are ten of them) I did so. I used this time to either study the ever-changing publishing industry, or selected books on the craft, such as Stephen King’s excellent On Writing, which truly was inspiring. But since someone had compared some of my novel’s elements to King’s The Stand, I felt I had to once again dive into the world of fiction, and most importantly, storytelling. Plus, I wanted to ensure that what I was attempting to create was something unlike anything written before.
And so I started it. And put it down after twenty pages. Then restarted it. Again, couldn’t get past page thirty or so. I just didn’t connect with the characters, or the inscrutable plot that seemed to be developing. “This is ridiculous,” I thought in frustration, “Why can’t I get into it? It’s a best-seller!” It was because… I wasn’t honestly and unequivocally giving myself to it. Reading a book is a two-way street; it is a matter of receiving, or being receptive to, what its maker creates and presents to us. A Reader can’t be passive about involving themselves with the story; the Reader must partake, if the creation is worthy enough of their attention. And I knew The Stand was indeed worthy, so I set about it again…
And this time I finished the 1000+ page novel in two-and-a-half days! Needless to say that I was sucked in. Great book, by the way, and I was relieved to see that the only similarities between it and my own book was the assortment of well-developed characters, and the good-versus-evil plot. Whew. Still original!!! I’d list the handful of other art-works that I feared would be intruding on my sense of creating an original and unique story, but naming them would tip you off to the surprises inside, and if I did that I’d have to smite thee. So.
I’ve been very deliberately cagey, clever, and downright-deceitful about revealing anything about the numerous plots and subplots other than Lily and Will’s, even though I know that doing so might very well increase interest. I really would like the Reader to simply be taken along Lily’s road, and accompany her, as Will is, and discover the mysteries and wonders as they’re stumbled across, well without warning. But I expect that the Marketing people won’t go for that, so I’ll wait until “milestones” are reached and then reveal a little more, ever-so-slowly pulling the Veil aside…
The Wedding Night Promise
So, to celebrate the anniversary of this BlogSpace, soon I’ll most likely be putting up Chapter Two in addition to the Chapter One already up. Nothing much is revealed of the main plot(s), just character development between Lily and William. I don’t want your surprise ruined, because as unsuspecting as the Reader will be, these Mysteries in the Real World there will Be, where You are, and you may Believe. But as a Reader, you will have to give yourself to me, and of course, to Lily. Do not worry; she is gentle ;-)
Heh.
OH AS I WAS SAYING! I discovered that I once again could read! It’s so weird… what with all the financial and unemployment-related distractions, along with such minimal amounts of time to allow for it, for some reason I’ve read more in the past five weeks than the previous five years combined! Rollo May’s The Courage to Create, The Truth About Atlantisby “Anon”, Neil Gaiman’s The Absolute Sandman Volume One (SUPERB), Party of One – The Loner’s Manifestoby Anneli Rufus (an excellent book for those mystified by those who are comfortable in solitude but especially for those slandered by the miscasting label of “loner”), and now… Angels & Demons by Dan Brown.
This last book that I’m currently reading… how can I say, hm… Well, I wanted to investigate it much like I had Frankenstein and The Stand, in that it might contain material that my own might seem derivative of, which is a major fear that I’ve always had during my writing of Unbound. But the elements I just can’t reveal or else (see above). They aren’t the obvious elements, such as you won’t find a maddened doctor constructing a body out of spare parts, for instance. But I just won’t say
Lab work
So far so good, but I’m getting concerned. Seriously hoping that it’s all rational/scientific/historical/symbolical stuff… and I REALLY doubt that Brown will go off in the directions that my book does. But I’ve gotta rush though it now to make sure LOL
Speaking about rushing… gotta go! But do take the time to read, for God’s sake, and help your friends to read as well. Without our stories we are so much the worse for it. One of the Intents with which I forged my novel was to hopefully instill a love of reading, or rather a re-kindling of that love, in the Reader. I kept that always in mind as I crafted it, page by page; I wrote it to be as accessible to as many persons as possible, of as many capabilities of comprehension. I want you to enjoy it, to embrace it, and most importantly, to Feel It. We all, for the most part, do start out appreciating The Story, but what with all of life’s distractions as we grow older, we allow it to fall by the wayside. Pick it up again, won’t you? You’ll be better off for it
One big and unexpected thing that I’m grateful to Koopiskeva (maker of fine AMVs) for is my introduction to Vienna Teng, who does the song “Gravity” on his The Place Promised in Our Early Days AMV entitled “Waking Hour” (which can be seen in Part Two of the AMV series, far below). Since I abhor radio, I miss a lot of music and so am exposed to little, which is very sad since I am a music junkie. I know that Koop is a fan of hers, and I understand why: she is simply amazing, talented, and very lovely. That’s just for starters! “Waking Hour” is also the title of her album from which “Gravity” was taken. Er, “borrowed.” So it’s not only a tribute to the anime, it’s also a tribute to her. I admire your good taste, sir! I’m definitely going to be buying it; to hell with downloading.
Since the full version is already below (and supporting a breathtaking AMV), I thought I’d share a live video of her performing this beautiful song in San Francisco, the so-called “Lake Version.” Ever since seeing Koop’s AMV for the first time, this song has haunted me long afterwards, and rarely can I get it out of my head until sleep comes. Which is as nice a lullabye as you’re going to ask for.
This solo-piano take is a much quieter, more personal piece, which is perfect for getting to know her:
Bonus Time! Here’s a brief interview with her, again from San Francisco (hey, it’s fitting since I just moved back to the area; S.F. is my home town, after all ). It proves her to be witty, intelligent, and funny (and a good sport LOL):
Okay, look: I *know* most of you are too lazy busy to scroll ALLLL THE WAY DOWN to the AMV that features the full album version of “Gravity,” so please allow me to force feed share it with you here, for contrast, comparison, and oh yes, enjoyment! If you’re curious about what the AMV is about, you will have to scroll down to read the short synopsis (I know, so merciless LOL), because this post is about Vienna and the magic of her song and beautiful voice, not to mention the composition. THIS is the version of the song that has completely enchanted me, breaks my heart and brings a tear to my eye… artwork that is so Moving is the ultimate for me:
*sigh* Beautiful music joins with gorgeous visuals: genius overflows! Koop, you made a marvelous choice of music and edited the video to the lyrics so well; Vienna, your voice and soul breathes life into it. Which is fitting, because as I’ve said before, “Music Is Life”… THANK YOU <3
Well, it’s come to this: time to vacate the premises. Dunno if I’m happy or sad about it; definitely annoyed! Pretty damn tired of the whole “selling the house to avoid foreclosure” thing, which has lasted for over a year, expecting it to sell at any moment and also expecting to have to uproot myself in the next. Bloody wearying it is. But I think I won’t go there in this post; if the short-sale doesn’t get approved and my debt forgiven though, you can bet that I will. And call for bloody revolution, lining the bastards first up against the wall, calling for the heads of those “in charge” of the financial industry, raising the rabble and the torches and pitchforks and etc etc etc…
Bitter much? Nah, just cranky. But now I’ll play the game MY way, because theirs is loaded to the gills. Can’t play games with cheaters, liars and scoundrels…
Man. Moving is just about my least favorite thing. Especially moving myself. Actually, I hate that more. $5,000 to have a mover do it vs $500 to do it myself. An especially easy decision when I don’t even have close to five grand. Or TWO for that matter. So yeah: Driving a 24-foot truck myself over 900 miles along with Lily, Pennie and all of my belongings in it, not to mention having to pack up enough stuff to fill a three bedroom house (minus two beds) accumulated over fifty years. I tried downsizing with decidedly mixed results. One minus to living in a small town: an equally-small number of businesses with which to do trade
A few months ago some door-to-door Mormons came by and after their furtive attempt at conversion failed miserably, offered to “help pack” pursuant to my remark that I was probably going to have to move. “Oh, sure, I will definitely take you up on that,” I thought. Well. After finding no-one to assist me with loading the large pieces of furniture onto the rental truck, I thought (yes, again; when will I learn?): “What have I got to lose?”
So I called the number on the little booklet they left and asked to speak to the Elder (which is ironic indeed because none of them look older than 20), and was overjoyed to discover that not only would they be happy to help load, but that they didn’t expect the meager payment I offered them. Which is good because I’m near broke and will need the funds I do have for fourteen hours of traveling expenses (i.e. truck, gasoline, food, and water for Pennie). I said, “But I’d really like to compensate you; how about a little donation to your church?” (God, I hope it’s called a church!) He replied, “No, it’s really okay; this is what we do: we help people.”
Wow! So they really exist!
Anyway, I’m going to leave them my television set, DVD player, VCR, and all the furniture that I won’t need anymore; perhaps they can find a family in need. I’m quite sure that they know some in these awful times. If they want to help people then I’ll be only too glad to help them be of help. Help is good
So let this be a lesson to you (and/or me). Be nice to those fellas (and ladies, if there are any who go door-to-door)! Or at least be tolerant. It’s good practice anyway, because what this world definitely needs is more tolerance. Not for fools though. Can’t stand them
So this’ll be my last post for a little bit. I’ll be moving not only to a new location but a new ISP as well (bye-bye high-speed Internet *sob*). Alastor will remain in place though, patiently awaiting my return (and your hoped-for and kind comments as well), and we should all be back together my midweek next. That is, if I don’t roll my truck into a shoulder, plunge over a cliff, plummet into a ravine and crash and burn and burst into flames. Or something.
Be good to each other
***
(EDIT:) Oh… what the hell. Since I dislike Posts that are simply all text, something inspiring to tide you over (and me LOL)! And a little “sneak preview” of sorts for my novel Unbound: The “bookend” songs I wanted for the opening and the closing of the story: “Sky Blue” and “Cloudless” by Peter Gabriel. Peter’s the only male artist whom I can equate with Kate Bush’s talent and creativity; they’ve also worked wonderfully together in the past. They both have reached so far into my heart and soul, and to be a completist about it, my mind as well. The Yin and Yang; the real deal; the fullest plate.
Since I’d always imagined the novel as a film while writing it, I also made a soundtrack for it to inspire me while working on it. These songs weren’t heard by me until after I’d finished my first draft, but when I remake the first “OST” I’ll definitely include them, as they capture perfectly the overall ”feel” of the story, at its beginning (which you can read here) and at its End (which you can’t, just yet)…
And because one (version) just isn’t enough, the exquisite “Cloudless” from the film Rabbit-Proof Fence. No video to speak of, but it’s not necessary if you just close your eyes and just Listen to it. And, as Kate says, “Please, feel it.” Do so
Oh, like a serpentine coil of coincidence: a song that really kept my spirit and fortitude together over the past year up to and and including these dark and dreary, yet strangely sunny days: Peter and Kate’s “Don’t Give Up”. You know this one, I’m sure
And for auld lang syne, Kate and Peter perform Roy Harper’s beautiful, poignant, and moving “Another Day”, taken from Kate’s Christmas Special of many seasons past. This is a real rarity, so enjoy it while it lasts -)
Ah, I do feel so much better now, and ready to take on The Road…
“We’re gypsies Rob, we’ve always been.” Georges was speaking matter-of-fact, as if this was something he’d known to have always been true. I was struck with clarity the moment he’d uttered them. “We go to where we want to, when we want to, where the opportunities exist.” Damn, he was right…
I first met Georges around 1968. I was close friends with his sister Cathy, who later introduced me to Jimi Hendrix, Eric Burdon, Buddy Miles, and several other heroes of my youth. But hers is another long sad story, for another happier day; this one’s about Georges, and in particular, his words that day. In the intervening years between then and this meeting in 2005, we’d both moved around a lot, and had happened through serendipity to have relocated some fifteen miles apart, over twenty years since our last contact. He was researching a location to open up a new restaurant in the exact same town I’d been thinking of moving to. This in itself was remarkable enough of a coincidence, but the subject of that day was the chances of our meeting up again, the ways in which we arrived at that same place on the earth, and the various and vicarious means by which we got there.
We were gypsies. That made it all the more miraculous.
With Cathy’s assistance (and insistence no doubt) he got me my first job, at a little place called “Mori’s Kosher Style Delicatessen” located in San Francisco’s Financial District, in 1968, and run by a transplanted New Yorker named Mori Solomon. An older man and a funny, shrewd, and calculating Jew, I suppose he was something of a gypsy himself, having transplanted his successful and well-known eatery in N.Y.C. to the Bay Area of all places, anathema to an East-Coaster. His small establishment catered to the Montgomery Street business-and-Wall-Street types while being staffed by hippies, as unlikely a combination as you’d expect to find in those days of persecution. Mori was not a hippie. The above picture is an accurate snapshot of what kind of guy he really was. I think, in fact, that he might have been a fence. Beneath a huge trap door in the floor he had a cellar beneath the whole shop that was filled with everything you could imagine: televisions, toasters, disposable hypo needles, cameras, radios, you name it. And then there was his rooftop… He even, for those special occasions with special visitors, hauled out a kitchen sink for those who marvelled at the diversity of his collection, exclaiming with a mischievous snicker, “Everything AND the kitchen sink!” He was a character.
In the latter days of writing my novel Unbound when trying unsuccessfully to find a way to describe a story that was about so many things, I remembered Mori’s cellar and his sink. So I, in a moment of pique, threw in a scene where Will’s mom is washing dishes at their kitchen sink. And so began describing this indescribably deep, layered, and allegorical story simply as being “about everything.” Because, it is. About everything that a gypsy might come across or encounter in his travels; or a wanderer, a teller of tales, or even a Fool of the highest caliber…
With the lifeblood and essence ofthis Romantic’s Heart, this Poet’s Mind, and this Gypsy’s Soul pumping through my being, I would uproot myself at every opportunity as my fortunes and misfortunes changed. Once upon a time, when I was 17 or so and my father and I had had enough of our constant arguing and fighting ever since my decision to hang out on the Haight Street scene, and my oft-repeated vow that I’d move if I knew he wasn’t going to call the cops, he finally said, “Look, if you want to go that bad, fine; I won’t call them.” He then went off to shower.
In the twenty minutes that he was gone, I’d taken down my posters, packed up most of my stuff, called a nearby friend to pick me up, and I was gone, just like that. I was a runaway for about a month, living off the food I got from Mori’s. After a brief stay at a pair of cute strippers’ apartment off of Third Street I ended up sheltering at Georges’ place, which coincidentally was where Cathy and their family was renting from my grandmother, right down the street; in the same flat where I was born. After seeing the misery that my absence was causing my mother, I returned home, and we all made a truce of sorts; though my parents still disapproved of my lifestyle choice, they decided to trust in me, and I in them. This began the long road to our reconciliation, and also served to solidify my resolve to become (at that time) a Poet, and later, a Writer. Because they still supported me, in all my wild ways… and that is love.
And this is why Unbound is dedicated to their memory, with Love… for it’s not so much a love-story (though it is indeed just that), it’s a story about Love, in all its manifestations. Even a gypsy has a family, and more often than not, has a home… even though he’s oft absent from them. And always seeking, in one form or another, for one reason or another, that ever-elusive Love…
But I did move around a lot. Finally deciding to find a place wherein to concentrate solely upon the crafting of my manuscript, I moved for that purpose, for one last time. It was always for one last time, but it never was. Now, once again this gypsy is poised for escape, one step ahead of the sheriff’s men, who were to be evicting me in less than a month. But another reward for the investing of Faith (see posts below) has occurred; the property’s auction date has been postponed for another month, for God-knows-why. So now I’m two steps ahead, but still in need of that safe haven I’ve always sought, and have never found, from which to launch my writing Career. It will come; I have Faith that it will; that this Fool will find his way off the mountain, and not off its precipice into the Abyss…
I have Faith, I have Hope, and I have Love… these are all that I need except for a partner to share them with, and she will come to me, I am sure. All in due Time :-D
The title of this post is taken from the closing track from Arthur Brown’s Galactic Zoo Dossier album, of which the song “Sunrise” served as one of the spring-boards from which I jump-started this novel (see another post a ways below for it). Since “love” has always been the main thrust of the book, and Arthur a strong vocal proponent of it (listen to his “Love is a Spirit (That Will Never Die)” for proof of this), I’d always wanted this story to reflect and to strike deeply into the Reader with just as much force and feeling as this and other beloved artists delivered their own powerfully emotive works to their Listeners. Thus, the story’s structure and delivery is very musical, lyrical, and deep beneath the surface of its words, emotionally powerful.
In closing, I’ll leave you with a video of Arthur singing “Helen With the Sun”, another of his songs that I included on Unbound’s “soundtrack”. This is raw emotion, power, and a startling vocal range delivered through the talents of not only his voice but also that of his co-writer and guitarist Andy Dalby (who’s one of my favorite guitarists). Boost the volume, too and feel it as deeply as you can. Don’t be distracted by anything else, either; just Listen! And as for that false fadeout, keep on listening; the ending is wonderful. He has a presentation that is unreal!
Welcome to Alastor's Reflection, the re-imagining of Fingal's Cave; a much more suitable environment than that poor soul's indwelling. Fingal resumes his journey in the pages of UNBOUND, while another solitary Spirit remains in this Place to muse with his Muse on the pursuit of "Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory," and the beauties therein...
For SOME reason, Wordpress stopped auto-saving. I was typing up a storm (which for me is a minor miracle) and had about ten paragraphs with Important Points to Make which I was later going to expand upon. IMPORTANT POINTS!!! Then, for SOME reason, in the midst of typing, I get this error about “Do you want to navigate away from this page?” Uh… NO. Why, did I act like I *wanted* to? GRR!
