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Showing posts with label writersday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writersday. Show all posts

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Jesus wept



8/7
RL continues the daily remaking of the church building, his crewmen young and old working feverishly. Well, at least some of the time. Things upstairs are rounding into shape for the Representatives. Thanks to RL. A task with no direct bearing on his own self interest. But what does, the little chapel, is also starting to be transformed. 
For the last several weeks I keep seeing Marty on the streets. He doesn’t respond. Just nods his head. And writing his inscrutable notes to himself, trying to solve  problem understood only by him. It’s the longest he’s been this way since I’ve known him. 
This week is Hiroshima and Nagasaki remembrance.  Thanks to Marc, I listen to Ralph Mc Tell’s Jesus wept:
He saw them bless the bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima and that’s why Jesus wept. 

                                              Ralph Mc Tell,  Jesus Wept
                                                                  * * * * 
Should have posted this earlier but here is what Sjoerd Hoogma, performing as Writersday, posted on his blog about playing at West-park:

And In many ways NYC is hot...jee it is 36 degrees out here! So don't get hydrated ( Tom!!!! Thnx) . And we Dutch are all over the place! Yesterday evening I had a gig at the corner of Amsterdam Avenue, nearby the Hudson river! Walking to the Hudson before I went to the old Pretorian church where to gig was, I found a building named ' the Netherlands' and also found a poster hanging out there from ' het Nederland Dans Theater' having a tour in NYC. We never should have sold Manhattan, that would have been the best cure to solve the economic crisis! 

Playing in a church was one of my little wishes! Enjoying the natural acoustics of a church-hall is exciting. The engineer of the evening used a akg mic for the acoustic guitar and although I also plugged in the DI, not sure if the mic will be enough, Marc told me after the show that he only used the mic and it sounded great! The evening was a success for me asked twice to come back and do another song, selling a few cd's handing over flyers is all I need right now. Having a laugh and talk in a small studio-room on the top floor of the church with an very old country musician, with a bunch of guitars around me completed the evening. So NYC is getting to grow on me more and more.
Today going back to Excello studios! Sunday playing at the famous Bitter End, Monday Sidewalk Cafe and Tuesday At the Pianobar Brooklyn! Come by if you are in the neighbourhood!                                              

                                                         * * * * 

During my gig at the Presbyterian church ( yes..spelled as it should be) Irish Pat played some Nick Drake tunes and totally inspired I was fiddling around today with some chords.
And wrote a new song, a short song and I am pretty happy about it. Tomorrow at Piano's at Ludlowstreet I will try to play it during my one hour gig.
Oeffa, visited the place today. It is packed up there, hip to. Getting a little nervous already.
Next to Piano's there is the Living Room, a very cool venue. TonightTheTony Schrerr trio
Played up there, crazy guitar-player/singer who was changing keys a dozen time each song! He was great but also weird! That's New York. Also visited a pawn shop trying a old Silverstone guitar! Never been to a pawnshop haha...
Tomorrow rehearsal with MJ so I am of to bed now!

Cheers Sjoerd

To follow our Dutch friend on his American tour go to : https://www.facebook.com/search/more/?q=WRITERSDAY%20&sid=0.4338652777951211

Saturday, July 20, 2013

And for a good night, good night



7/19

This morning, I see Sean on Broadway. Alert. Looking good. I stop to talk.
Sean, good morning.
Hey, good morning.
What’s happening? You said you were ready for rehab...
Yeah. I want to get my electric wheel chair first. They working with me on that. And I done my psych eval. And my physical. They say I’m too vulnerable for a shelter or dorm, they gon a get me my own room.
Who’s that Sean?
Goddard-Riverside.
Of course. You work with them, it works out. Proud of you man.
I get that chair, I’m gonna do the rehab.
Good. That’s good.
Look man, I’m sorry, you know? I know the mess I left. It’s embarrassing,you know? That’s not me.
I know. You’re working on it Sean, you’re working on it. You take care. As I start to walk away, he says, Wait, and I turn around. Thanks for stopping. For taking the time, for talking. 

Later in the day. It’s hot. I’m out for a walk. I see at least three people I’m not prepared to deal with and walk an obstacle course zig-zag back to the church. It’s too hot to think. My patience is running thin.

Work with Christopher on his future plans.

Step outside. Oh no. It’s Edward and Charlotte, back again.
Edward, I’m not doing this again.
I ain’t botherin nobody.
Charlotte chimes in: You go away.
That’s not the point. You can’t be here. Two days ago I had to call the police.
I ain’t been sleepin here. Been hookin up with her.
It wasn’t night. It was the middle of the day.
That wasn’t me. You think all black people look alike.
No man, it was you. The fire engine came. Then the ambulance. The the police.
Wasn’t me.
When they asked you your name, you said Human Being, just like two years ago. I’m thinking he doesn’t even remember.
Ah man. I ain’t hurtin no one.
Charlotte again: You go away. You motherfucker. You get the fuck outta here. You..
Edward: You hush now. Just sittin’ here mindin my own business.
I’m starting to lose it. Edward, I had to clean up your shit ten times. I’m not doing that again.
Ah that wasn’t me. That was someone else...
You were right there man, was no one else. Not again.
Charlotte: You get the fuck outta here.
(Anna and Sergeant Keith are behind me now.)
Charlotte, you take your man and get out of here. Move on.
Come on man, we don’t need to be here. We goin’, we goin’. 
And they’re off to the other side of the street, in front of PC Richards.
That wasn’t right, them cursin’ you like that. Keith says. Back home from where I come from....
It’s OK, Keith, it’s over.

I need to get away.

RL is going about set up for tonight’s open mic. I help him up the stairs with the cider. Danielle carries some six packs.  I just want to leave.

Max shows up. He’ll be tending bar tonight.

Sjoed Hoogma: Writersday
But I’ll stick around and play. Tonight’s surprises are another comedian. (Comedy is harder than writing music. Really.) And a singer songwriter from the Netherlands named Sjoerd who plays by the name Writersday. With some good guitar, some good songs and a mean harmonica. (http://www.writersday.nl/ )

Surprise of the night? Anna sings an original song she wrote back in the 80’s about the lingering effects of radiation on Japanese children. And then an English translation of a sukiyaki song. Her music is sensitive . And intelligent. Like her truest self.

Good to see Beppe. And Nancy. And Jamie.

Sjoerd joins in with his harmonica on RL’s Stay Awhile. And then I get up to do one of my New Mexico songs. Invite him to join me. And give him a break of his own between verses. We actually begin to roll a little.

A lot is  not good right now. But I love playing. I love feeling the calluses come back on my finger tips and thumb. I enjoy the work and effort that takes me away. Which is why I started doing this in the first place.

We wrap things up. Beppe and I head to Slightly Oliver’s. Sit outside. There’s a breeze. RL passes by. I look up, RL, it was a good night. He smiles, touches his finger to his hat brim. So for a good night, good night he says. And heads home.

As we walk back home, the gang has settled in for the night. And George had taken up the south door. George, you keep an eye on these guys, OK? He nods.

Goodnight.