Posts tagged ‘social isolation’

Social Isolation in Ultra Sea Major

And so!  Ten weeks in!  And May Long Weekend to boot!  We are not going anywhere!  Back in the glory days of old, like say last year this time, we’d be back on the range!  Back in Sweet Paradise!

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Photo of said sweet paradise: but this was photographed on one of those glorious early August afternoons: in the time of the crickets.  Ah but the range is a glorious place anytime of the year!

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Summer out there is a true paradise:  and a summer night out there…  Ultra.  (No noise pollution and No light pollution!)(And No neighbours!)(And not a through road leading up to our place!!!)(Wowza!)

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Page from an Art Journal:  unknown book, unknown time.  (Judging from the darkness going on, I must have been listening to Soundgarden:  Fell On Black Days)(Or:  all I had left was the black paint!  (HA!))

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Asking the Power Bird, page from the art journal.  Many thanks to the great Norval Morrisseau for the original idea!

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In the River:  Ophelia.  Art Journal, and yes…  that is quite a story!

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The folks in this town, who drive cars, need a couple of these!  I had me some front row seats to a 4 car pile up on the 417 at Carling on Wednesday afternoon.  I saw the brake lights on so I started slowing down.  The “knuckleheads” in the left lane, driving like they were in the Indy 500, of course weren’t paying attention and BOOM!  I watched it happen and thought:  It’s a lovely afternoon to be stuck in a traffic jam!  While this was going on the others in the left lane, coming up, had their tires squealing and smoking coming off them, I thought I was going to see an 8 car pile up!

So I was stuck there.  Waiting for folks to clear the wreckage and have mercy…  THIS song came over the radio:

Good gosh.  It was back during that first tour with Debajeh, near the end of it, in either late May or early June, I was caught in a traffic jam going from Hamilton back to Toronto and I missed our 8 p.m. downtown.  I told her come heck or high water, I’d be there at the diner dressed in my saucy “black”.  When I did arrive, at 9:30, it was a table for one…

Now this song wasn’t even in the works back in those days, but Ade said it all right there! What a flash!  What a moment, parked in a traffic jam on the 417 on a sunny Wednesday afternoon at 4 p.m. in this modern day.

I don’t know if I ever told you this, but last November, I was in another diner not far from here, in Ottawa, seated alone, looking out the window, waiting for my order, and THIS came over the house speakers:

Now this song IS old enough and have mercy…  That ride in the Buick, the airport, the never never landing with each passing second…  The all knowing…  The poison I had flowing through my entire everything up around 95%…  The southeast of Asia and its mighty secrets…  tans that are beyond lovely…  our long raven hair hanging down our backs.  Voices in whispers.  Old magic, young people.

Oh my goodness…  (Where is that drink I ordered?!!!)

And so!  Whew.  Lost my where with all with that one…

Ah yes.  And so!  Week 10 going on week 11, in the city, everything closed, but the birds flying anyway.  Sun shining too.  And the art journals, the music (that version of No Smoking, recorded last Saturday was nothing but CRAP!  We’ll have to try it again tomorrow with much steadier hands…  if you get my driftsville…  ), and the paintings in wait:  long weekend in isolation in the city…  We have to do the best we can.

IMG_0724My version of Harry Callahan’s Weed Against the Sky, Detroit”  Page from an art journal.  (Do you know that piece?)

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Bison from Altamira, Art Journal, way back in easier days:  June 14, 2019: when freedom was!

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My version of Keith Haring’s 3 Dancing Men and the UFO, art journal.  The other night in lockdown I thought I’d watch “Fire In the Sky” and dream about the old days but instead got suckered into “Alligator”, from 1980.  What a dumb move that was!

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“Childhood”, art journal.  For more on this horror story visit the twinravens2000 youtube channel…

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“Sweet Seventeen”, art journal.  Well as my old buddy Michael would say:  We’ll get there some day, pop.

One day this lock down is going to end.  One day they’re going to reopen the world and that means the clubs will re open too.  That means we can get dolled up and go out on Friday and Saturday night!

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Me and Marilyn: at the club, where we SHOULD be on a Saturday night…  but not this Saturday night, which begins in a few short hours…

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Me and an Ultra Super Exotic Dancer, at the club on a Saturday night, many moons ago!  What fun!

Let’s start imagining this lock down stuff is going to go away and we can return to having some fun out and about, dusting off our dancing shoes, walking out the door at nine and coming back around noon on Sunday!

Snow on May 9th!

what the flipping flip is up with the snowflakes flying at this time of the year?  yeesh.  its like the whole world has gone bonkers.  this virus crapola has us pinned down 9 weeks now, going on 10, snow is flying, can’t get home, the walls are moving in closer by the minute.

better put the headphones on for this one…

okay so things haven’t gotten quite that artsy around here but if this snow doesn’t stop, i can’t guarantee you any further stories will be true!  but i can guarantee that they will be stories!

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last Sunday morning:  east of Ottawa.  it’s the best we can do for now.  i’d rather be driving the backroads between Tehkummah and Snowville this time of year but we’re a long way from that!

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i haven’t picked up a paint brush in 9 weeks.  holy mackinaw!  out where we are: the spirit just isn’t here, to do what is needed.  and so the stack of canvas, canvas boards, jars of paint, brushes too, sit.  waiting…

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the mighty raven watches but i’m sure doesn’t wonder.  this boy wonders!  when is the all clear going to be given?

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we ran this photo a few weeks ago:  since we have no painting going on we’re switching gears and picking up the guitar.  later today i’m going to give this Garage Band thing a turn.  its the onboard computer home studio and today we’re going to see if we can record the twinravens actual “classic”:  No Smoking.  that song goes back way before there was a twinravens actual!

here are the lyrics:  (i don’t know how to fix the double spacing thing so here it is in one block of text)

no smoking.  no unloading.  of your trash.  on my trash.  in the city: an indian’s day is never done!  if this weren’t the city: there’d be no shoes on my feet.  no ugly sounds in my ears.  no ugly sights in my eyes.  the only ones left: are my brother the raven.  brother raccoon.  andek esban anishnabe…  the three of us shunned (x3).  in a white man’s world.  police aint here to serve and protect.  police are here to racially profile.  guys like me in a white man’s world…

the stupid auto correct always wants to change “esban” to “lesbian”!

so yes those are the mod lyrics to No Smoking.  i wrote and recorded the song at the N’Swakamok Native Friendship Centre back in the summer of 1994, in the youth lounge, using a Fostex 4 track recorder which, ha!, used cassette tapes!  i sat myself down and played track one: acoustic rhythm.  track two and three:  lead guitars.  track four:  vocal.  and in the background, it being the youth lounge over at the FC, you could hear some cats playing billiards and so the pool balls were cracking around in an off timed way which i thought really added to the kookiness of the recording.  we were in the city.  it was a song about urban indio reality.  back then it was true and more so today.  i recently added the bit about the cops.  back then i was innocent and believed in things.  today it is different.

No Smoking, just saying, has only been performed live: 3 times!  (the best reading took place at the Rivoli, Queen St. W., July 1995.)

and so we have an acoustic guitar from the pawn shop, we have this Garage Band program, the flashy microphone, and the afternoon off, with snow flying as i write.  we’ll give it all a spin and see if we can make something of it.  time is noon!  the guitar playing  might wake up my old buddy Jazz, she’s still in the bunk.  her hours have gone strange now that the schools have been closed for 9 weeks and will remain closed for another 3 at the least…  the poor kids.  what a rip off it has been for them.

Jasmine Moon is supposed to be in grade 12, graduation coming up, but will there be a party?  yes these poor kids have been ripped off.

here is some super heavy duty:

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my beautiful daughter.  and a proud father i am.  and the empty nest is looming like never before…  she talks about her own apt. and a room mate and being closer to the post secondary institution…  which leaves this old boy, i guess, free to go.

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who knows.  maybe by next winter i’ll be back to this, back home on the range, back down by the river, back in the old country, far away from the war.

Social Distancing Blues in A

and so we’re in the thick of it now.  wild stuff is running rampant here, there, and everywhere!  it’s Saturday night in the slab and we’re following Doc Spook’s advice: when in like this, enjoy good vins and good cooking!  so i am cooking and the vin is closing in on room temperature.  while we wait for that to happen an IPA from England lights the way!

truth is: i’m not much of a cook.  i always do it Rez style, and i’m talking back woods Rez style, back woods like down by McBean Harbour in Sagamok style.  there AIN’T no flash to what we’re cooking.  but i fancy it in day dreams.  when we’re out there on the open range in sweet home sweet home, back on the Manitou River, down there on the Range, things are different as we’re usually in the company of some very exotic and beautiful ladies in bikinis: and so!  the cooking has to be classic show bizz style.

you better put the headphones on for this one:

that trick with the egg flying and the spat:  i need to learn that one!  mind you:  what we’re doing in our kitchen tonight is baby shit along side what this dude is doing.

and so it is Saturday night: we’re in, where we are hopefully safe.  the cooking is on going.  the vin is.

this is super social distancing!

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out there on the streets of O Town:  one morning on the walk to work last week:  the flipping streets were empty save for this black bra.  it was empty too as you can see. how long it’d been there i don’t know but it wasn’t there the day before…

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Power Bird with Medicine Bundle, acrylic on canvas board, 16×20 inches, by anishnabe artist and ruthless wild man:  Mark Seabrook.  (experimenting with new paints…  )

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Calling Up the Almighty:  Assist. various inks on wood panel, 11×14 inches, by anishnabe artist and exotic dancer:  Mark Seabrook.  while we fuss with the new paint selections, there is room to go back to the good old days.  i’d be one for visiting them!

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“Man Changing Into a Thunderbird, panel 1, in reverse”, cheap acrylic paint, various inks, on 1990 issue paper, hard cover repurposed book, Found Poetry Book 5, a work in progress, by anishnabe artist and brutal savage:  Mark Seabrook.  while we’re waiting for paint to dry, we can muddle over what some folks have said to us, me in partic, anywhere along our way.  those “some folks” do not like us!  and they do not like me and my ways of savagery.  to them it is evil and bad.  to me its another day at the office, here in Canada.

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“Writing on the Wall…”, cheap acrylic paint and various inks on 1990 issue paper, hard cover repurposed book, Found Poetry Book 5.  if you ascertain my meaning…

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the guitar is always there, waiting for us.  anyone can pick it up.  (my old buddy Carlos said that!)  and so while we ride out the storm, this Yamaha  FG-345 ii that i scammed out of a pawn shop over there on Montreal Road will assist in the to and from.  i’m an old school guitar player who liked to record on a Fostex.  this Garage Band stuff on board the mac book isn’t like the old school “cassette tape” that i know and love.

recording on said Fostex.  that’s me on the 12 string, one Sunday morning many moons ago.  you can hear Shag in the back ground at the beginning, he’s in the kitchen cooking up breakfast.  but that is also him on the background vocal.  if you do listen to it:  BE WARNED:  coarse language and sexual content. (best to put the headphones on for this one…  )

ah yes.  the Fostex.  a 4 track recorder great for on the spot song writing for old timers like me.  i really like those 12 string notes at 45 seconds into this recording.  i took the song into the No Reservations rehearsal hall but the boys rejected it, saying it was too camp fire.

i on the other hand think its an awesome snap shot of “one of those days”, back when we were a lot younger, when 201 was one of the coolest spots and…  this one though was recorded at the corner of Simcoe and what do you call it, over there in N’Swakamok.

“What to do on Sunday Afternoon” was written and recorded and performed by yours truly!  i just made it up on the spot using Shag’s 12 string.

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how grand it would be if Shag and the boys came over to my place and we ran through some of those old No Rez selections and booted around the idea of recording those other 12 songs we had in the hopper.  the world needs to hear things like:  The Creator Song.  Broken Home.  Thunderbird.  Red Doggg Blues.  You Had Me But I didn’t Have You.  Concrete Shoes Love.  Baby You’re a Crocodile.  Bats With Wings.  That Night in the Byway.  and one of my personal faves that we only played in the club:  Drive In Theatre: We Actually Watched the Movie…

we’re still cooking, 2.5 hours in.  i think the vin has arrived at room temp., so my thing is this:  why wait till later?

or as my dad would say:  Why take any chances?

more fun cooking vids from one of my fave movies:

Be safe!  Stay out of trouble!  And don’t get yourself killed, or worse!

Many thanks and hope to hear from you soon!