Where You Go When You Want to Think

This site has excerpts of my novel-in-progress, Hot Love on the Wing, as well as thoughts on post postmodernism, avant garde art, literature, music, and the community of artists in Bushwick and New York.
Showing posts with label neil young. Show all posts
Showing posts with label neil young. Show all posts

Monday, January 24, 2011

Love and Neil Young

In life we all just want to be loved. There are times when we think we love someone more than anyone else, although it is the eros doing this. (Funny, how Cupid the messenger of love and the word cupidity, meaning avarice, have the same root). We love our parents and our siblings and our friends just as much, if not more. Try to quantify your love, puny human.

But when we find the eros, it burns brighter and faster and so we want to love harder, more than the agape or the storge. In the end, it only dies faster. Suspend your thought. Let go. Live it fully. This will be the truest love you can express. And everyone will feel it.

Why is Neil Young so good? He combines aspects of folk and rock that make him soft and melodic, yet rugged and hard. He balances extremes well, though he is best when he's in the middle. He is like the lovechild of Bob Dylan and Led Zeppelin, especially in his Crazy Horse days.



Play the mouth harp, if you want to take up an instrument and can't dedicate the time to the guitar.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

The Strabismics Pt. 4


 During the meanwhile, they load the bowl of the largest bong, and smoke it. Reality goes hazy at the edges and expectation about the future becomes anxiety about the present, what are those kids thinking, no, don't worry about them, building tension settles into complete relaxation and mental wandering, whose cat is that?

Gabriel stands up and moves towards the cat. He had a cat growing up. You have to work for their affection; running to them and rubbing them like dogs doesn't work. Cats and animals in general, but especially cats, are super-sensitive to energy. They have to be relaxed to permit your touch and only feel relaxed if you feel relaxed.
  

This cat is large. It has a clearly unhealthy paunch, but he is good natured and lazes sleepily. Gabe plays with the cat by sliding it back and forth on its excess skin and fat. He does this for about a minute, then scratches the cat's head one last time before he sits back down.
   

Buckley and Kevin finish preparing the powder. They chop it up with credit cards until it is fine. They analyze the color, decide it is too dark and swear. Like chemists, they pipette four drops of water. This is perfect. They chop it again and then again. Now it looks like umber salt. Buckley produced another Jackson and Kevin weighs him out its worth on the cleverly disguised Neil Young CD case scale. Buckley waits patiently, watching the powder the while. When it's in his hand he empties some onto the table and with his credit card, lines it up, chop...chop. He rolls his last 20 tight, puts his nose to it as he leans to inhale and jerkily snorts it in a spray and a twitch.

Pt. 4 of 5 -Daniel Adler