Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Vogerltanz.







Dear Everyone,

Many of you have dreamed of your own little flock of poultry-  I did.  Then, 12 years ago, the great day finally came.  We converted a pig sty into a hen house, and we have had happy hens ever since.  Anyone can tend chickens.  When I asked at the feed store "how do you keep chickens"?  Well, they laughed out loud, because it didn't really require, in their opinion, any instructions at all.  They were right.  Chickens are easy to keep.

We picked up five new peeps last week, to add to the flock.  You keep them under an ersatz mother light bulb in a cardboard box until they get feathered, and then they move to larger, outdoor digs.  Listen to the poetry of their breeds:  Ancona; New Hampshire Red; Cream Brabanter; Silver-Spangled Spitzhauben; Russian Orloff.





 



 

Chicks couldn't be more charming.  This is the how they begin their lives as chicks to be sold to you and me.  You will wince, as they tumble, but life is rough and hard, and the big business of hatching eggs is just that, a big business. 

If you don't get the chickens of your dreams this Spring, you might indulge another of  our shared longtime desires:  Owning your own accordion.  The accordion is possibly the most delightful human invention ever, and so easily and painlessly acquired!  Mine was a gift;  my family purchased it from the neighbor's yard sale.  The accordion is mother of pearl and gleaming black, in a case filled with voluptuous crushed red velvet.  Life is so sweet, is it not?  Here is how to play a favorite party tune on the instrument made for peripatetic parties and impromptu dances.


Of course, I could  be wrong; it might be the glockenspiel you have always wanted....


Ententanz.

El Baile de los Pajaritos.








Friday, March 27, 2015

Moving Pictures.









Dear Dodoists,

When I was driving here and there, listening to the car radio, this song would come on, and I would think:  gee, I wish I had written that song.  I thought that because it seemed to say something I wanted to say.  I found that this song also has an arresting visual component-  so I send you there.  The animation is of a fascinating handmade kind- a lot like the work of artist William Kentridge, which I was first made aware of in my printmaking class.  Here is a fine example of his work.

Several more of the energetic and directly painted animation films of Jason Mitcham can be found on his website, and here is very eloquent clip of William Kentridge on his process and methods.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?  I have an eraser and I intend using it. 








Saturday, March 21, 2015

Thursday, March 19, 2015

The One-hundred and Eighty-ninth Post: In which the true Dodo is mentioned.









Dear Readers,

Here, at the Dodo, we finally finished A Short History of Nearly Everything, by Bill Bryson, a book we have been reading aloud for some time now.  I know you can guess that I am prepared to encourage you to read it, too.   There is a last chapter, as there usually is, and it begins with the sad demise of the Dodo bird, and I thought that the whole chapter belonged here, could be here, for you to read.  I loved the whole book, but the last chapter, well, it is deeply affecting. 

So, why isn't the last chapter here?  Because, as is often the case, what you really want to do in life, is to be pointed off into the woods on your own.  The last chapter must come at the end, and so you must read the other 29 yourself; although, it occurred to me to offer just one word from the book, each day, consecutively, and in, oh, say 406 years or so, you would be reading the last word. 

But, let's do this instead- here is the first sentence:

No matter how hard you try you will never be able to grasp just how tiny, how spatially unassuming, is a proton.


And, here, is the last.

And that, almost certainly, will require a good deal more than lucky breaks.


So, get going- run to the library, or if you cannot bear to remove your slippers and skip along the cold floor towards your street shoes, visit Bill Bryson's website, and get sent to a point of online purchase.





PS
Wondering, you busiest of sticklers, just why you should read this book?  Can you bear to leave the package unopened?  Just lying there, with the ribbon and pretty paper?  Come on, join the banquet!  There's a place right there, next to me.  This book is an owner's manual, an operator's handbook for life as we know it- you want to read it, really- it will fascinate and astound you, you won't know how you ever lived without it. 







Sunday, March 15, 2015

The Companionship of Flowers










Dear Ones,

Keep good company, today, and be good company, too.  Hope to see you there, among the good company of the flowers.









 
 
 


 
 
 





 


 


























One more tune

Adieu.






Sunday, March 8, 2015

Oh, go to heaven in a brown pea shell!











Dear Fingers,

I hope you have been working on your folk guitar-  I have, and I look forward to you coming over and playing with us.  We have an extra guitar now, so you can come by anytime.  We got this guitar, which I like to call Little Blue, even though, she is quite green. 

We have been loving playing this Elizabeth Cotton song - it makes a nice set with Rambling Round, and Side by Side.

To inspire you further, try this nice Rhiannon Giddens version, too.

 
 
Shake Sugaree 
 written by Elizabeth Cotton 
 
G         G7
I have a little song and it, won't take long
C
And I'll, sing it right,..once or twice-
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G
Everything I got.

G      G7
Pawned my chair and I, pawned my bed,
C
and ain't got no place, to lay my head.
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn
     D     G
Everything I got.

G     G7
Grow my tobacco and I, spit my juice-
C
Well I, would raise cain, but it ain't a bit of use
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G
Everything I got.

G         G7
Pawned my tobacco and I, pawned my pipe,
C
pawned everything, that was in my sight.
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G
Everything I got.

G     G7
I'm going sailing in, a wooden shoe
C
looking for a star, I could tell my troubles to
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G
Everything I got.

G                 G7
First star to the right and it's, straight on 'til morn,
C
I never saw such such night, since I was born.
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G
Everything I got.

G        G7
Have a little secret, I ain't going to tell,
C
I'm going to heaven, in a brown pea shell.
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G
Everything I got.

G       G7
Pawned my horse and I pawned my plow.
C
pawned everything, even pawned my old milk cow.
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G
Everything I got.

(INSTRUMENTAL) G G7 C C7 G D G D G

G             G7
Have a little secret and I, ain't going to tell,
C
I'm going to heaven, and I, ain’t going to ....
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G
Everything I got.

G         G7
Have a little song and it, won't take long
C
I'll sing it right, sing it, all night long.
   C7  G
Oh Lordy me, didn't I shake sugaree
     D        G
Everything I got is in the pawn.
     D     G   D   C G
Everything I got.

 
 
 
 
 
 

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

It's Time.

















Dear Beloved,

I wanted to tell you about this in April, I have been saving it for you, since December.  The time, though, is now.  I know it is time, because I saw today a horse, in a field, and that horse has been standing still since October; just standing.  Here, or there, in the corner, or in the middle of the field, or nearer the juniper, but standing all this while.  Today, he ran like a colt, in wild circles, the way the horses do, and the cattle, and goats and sheep, too, when spring comes.  They run just because the earth is soft and green and the breeze smells of blossoms.  The spring is here when the buds open.  This time, it is now.

This day the spring had decided not to be poetical, but simply cheerful.  It had spread flocks of small scatterbrained clouds in the sky, it swept down the last specks of snow from every roof, it made new little brooks run everywhere and was playing at April the best it could.

This lovely passage is from Tove Jansson's charming children's book Moominland Midwinter.  It is filled with the exploits of the Moomintroll Family, and I hope that you will not be such a fool as to think you would not enjoy a children's book at whatever your advanced and sophisticated age may be.

The author is not only lyrically gifted, she is the totally disarming illustrator of her own books.  Now, some illustrators are good, even great, but some of them, are even artists.  Tove Jansson is an artist.  I first read collections of her wonderful cartoon strips, and I encourage you to check your library for those, too.  Tove Jansson's drawings, well, you not only want to live in them, you also want to make them yourself:  To trace each lovingly made line, over hills, trees, the sea, and around the expressive creatures that live in her beautifully detailed world:  Snorks, Whompers, Little Creeps, Hemulens, and Dwellers Under the Sink.

I want, my love, to tell you each chapter, because they are so sweet and fine, but it would spoil the slow unspooling of the tale that is yours for the reading.  Just open the book and slip inside.








PS   Would you like another great great song from just another great great band from east L. A.?  Get it right here, on Los Lobos Radio.