Chappaqua in the moment….a still image in the be here and now mode….
It is time to write yourself into the movie composing images in the now
In the still heat of the night I found the meaning of blues…Piedmont blues…..one summer day she went up and left me but I don’t worry because I’m sitting on top of the world…so sang Phil Wiggins at Bo’s in Chelsea along with Toby Walker and Marcus Moore…I had been there with my girlfriend…things had started out nice enough…it was running of the Belmont after all…my Dad who a big horse enthusiast was gravely ill in the hospital so we went downstairs to watch it..my girlfriend as was her style had made friends with another woman whose boyfriend later joined us….as usual my girlfriend was spending way too much money she didn’t have…this never was a problem to her…she had once been rich but could not let it go…when ever she got her hands on some money she had to spend it immediately…the Belmont ran and we all had a great time yipping and yelling and once over we went back upstairs to listen to Phil Wiggins, Toby Walker and Marcus Moore.
I had been turned on to Phil Wiggins decades by a friend who played the harmonica. I played guitar and had been fond of acoustic fingerpicking style since first discovering through the Jefferson Airplane offshoot Hot Tuna. In those days played with a partner named John Cephus. They favored the Piedmont style, a blues style that emphasized a certain syncopation.
the glow of new york has always attracted me…it’s rock n’ roll…it’s the rythym…notion…a snapshot of energy..
a forgotten night when the gps didn’t work…cold, with the wind blowing raw through the four corners…smoking on the porch, joking about when is Laura Palmer going to float by wrapped in plastic…Wealth of Nations..raw, hard, music…young girls…trying to be cute…I ignored them…they wouldn’t like the consequences if I didn’t…Ian Stewart, i.e., Dirck on the keyboards…invisible….hammering away…all in all a good night…no one wound up in jail…