Sunday, May 29, 2011

What’s in a title?

What’s in a title? A procrastinating author’s worst fears are realised | Irish Examiner --Terry Prone

12:41am eastern time. I am quietly laughing out loud.
I found above link having searched the phrase "what's in a title?",
having just titled one of my web pages on Mikalogue "that" because I didn't have the desire to name it just yet, and in so doing, named it.

Enjoy. This is funny stuff.

"Selecting a title is one of the points at which the relationship between writer and the editor in the publishing house can become severely fraught. F. Scott FitzGerald drove his unfortunate editor Maxwell Perkins (who, God bless his little cotton socks, also had to cope with Hemingway and Thomas Wolfe and lent all of them money) mad wanting his magnum opus to come out under the title Trimalchio in West Egg. Trimalchio, as every reader will remember, being the rich patron of Petronius's Satyricon. Perkins pointed out that nobody knew how to pronounce Trimalchio, adding that to put a prospective purchaser through the hassle of asking for an unpronounceable book might not be inspired marketing. FitzGerald eventually caved in and went with The Great Gatsby, but never liked it as a title."

Go on now, link the article. I know you want to.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Monday, May 23, 2011

In the air last night

May 22, 2011
Its been calm and kind of hot, no moisture falling (or screaming) no storms no violent weather - But tonight I feel a breeze of foreboding. The moisture is going to come - the storms will come  [o storms be gentle with our island] -
thinking of Joplin today, thinking there weren't enough convenience store walk-in fridges to go around.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

04/09, 12/09, 10/10 and 05/11 - crossroads, critical timing and thanks to Monica and Karen and many more...

I believe I could have made a career out of just what I was finding in the Yarden while living at Monica's -- her garden magic gave me plenty of material. Being and thriving there was much of the impetus for where what and who I am now and shall be. I am ever grateful I landed on Seidenberg Avenue at the moment I did.
Then time came to move on and that timing was perfection -- I was able to move into Karen's guest house in Old Town, introduced to the galleries in the upper end of Duval, and Dan Cocco in particular, who viewed my work and invited me to exhibit in his and Jim Salem's gallery -- my run there was short but satisfying, such a beautiful space to show; 
and then Karen introduced me to Onett Johnson, who runs Sippin' Internet Cafe -- those five pieces are hanging in his cafe now -- she wrangled his attention to my work with her wonderful eccentricities and more important a chocolate bar laced with chili peppers -- good thing Onett liked my images -- otherwise my frail artist's heart... -- Onett also allowed me to stock 12 x 12 prints for sale -- they're not exactly moving like a freight train, but they're there and people are seeing them. (I wonder who they are?) 
Around the same time I started going to Sippin's Sunday Mic Night, getting on stage, tentatively playing one string, bluesy longings [I had only recently been reacquainting nightly with my 33 year old Yamaha L10-A in my front porch living room garden], reading some poetic observations and singing an occasional song, a cappella to be sure - it was enjoyable and a pleasure to meet and hear and collaborate with local musicians. The Sunday Night thing is in hiatus for the season. In the meantime I am faithful with my attention to playing every night in my f.p.l.r.g. and suspect I may be making progress. One string at a time. ["follow the monochord"]
I have fallen into a horn of plenty here in Key West - right place, right time, right on. Lucky me, I say.
Yesterday, after a year of being down, I resurrected  the website that I began shortly after my mother Ruthie died. I'd taken to the road with camera, laptop with mobile internet access and only what fit in my 2004 Kia hatchback. I eventually headed out west only to be drawn back to Florida after six months, to this island of rich color and mystery and risks worth taking. 

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Maracas Poinciana

Hanging over my front porch living room 

shak shak