Dancing with a hoe: July 2013

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

July 31 2013

You'll not see much of our personal progress here. Facility is being upgraded. Awaiting the arrival of tonnes of stone. Tonnes of topsoil piled in Emile's yard. The Home/Field /House project is still on track, we continue to search for a land that would accommodate our need to expand.
The garden is glorious, no cause to regret my "eccentric" ground plan. I am posting no photos. Get of your backside and see the real thing for yourself.The blog is a dead loss, it will get modified over time. It doesn't make the physical work easier. The woodworking department continues to improve but the workshop is still a well nurtured dream. Eighteen years behind schedule, better late than never. I continue to blow my oobly doobly tunes,it's rare that anyone hears,"More's the pity, " sez I . (Just my worthless opinion). That's enough of this, I will get back to you when work permits.
Happy Birthday.

About Izmusic

"My melodies are songs without words, none vocal narrative. Folk have rushed by for years and barely glimpsed the tune. A few hang around and listen for a while, but the street has many distractions. My back is no longer against the wall,this is the first chance I've had in eleven years to unravel my tunes, at present encrypted into a whole tangle of technique excercises. You've missed some wondrous epic sessions sad that most often I was the only person,mortal at least, to hear them.
Eight hours a day playing in the icy chill of city streets through several winters alters the character of your technique to some how transcend the harsh discomforts and "make some good of the day".
MUSIC IZ A MIGHTY MAGIC! The first cathartic offerings were created hastily in a frantic effort to master the production.It's all past time , I make music for the moment the occassion, a kind of relativity fix. A divine conspiracy, a benign heresy. The line of least probability may offer opportunity of greater possibility.
Enjoy my primitive efforts. Plain song busking,"strictly kitchen ". The music of the heart bridges the ambiguity of fumbling words,overcomes cultural barriers. Music like God is personal none vocal meaning in the voice of the unspeakable word. The "You know what I mean nostalgia " space ,whether we've done the daring deed or not, where the mind might put on clean socks and start afresh. Familiar phrasing from our collective vocal tradition triggers epic vision, emotional empathy, mathematical poetry, sympathetic reveries create lifelines to the greater mind. In all styles, in all languages the flute and drum resist the restrictive dogmatic control of state or temple."