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Sep. 10th, 2009

Last night immediately after work I drove around to check out the Band, and to be checked-out by them also.  I didn't take my rig (it was getting late), so I was more or less an observer, although I did hit the brushes on a snare drum, in the background.

The few song they worked on were straight out of the '50's; the real one-and-only true Rock 'n  Roll with a special emphasis on Fats Domino . . . loved it!  I'll have no problems playing their material if it follows a similar pattern; actually, it's almost perfect!  Some more blues would be even better, but let's just wait and see . . .

My gut feeling is pretty ambivalent: it ain't a positive one, but then it ain't a negative one, really . . .  I wasn't too impressed with the singer (she sang mostly from her throat, straining, and needs to learn projection and resonance from the gut and diaphragm), but when they played some tracks that they'd recorded at the Studio in town her voice was reasonable/better, though still not to my standards . . . I also get the impression that S's a bit of a control freak, but then only because he's pretty sure of himself and what he wants out of his musos (the singer's a novice and needs direction) . . . sort of a Musical Director, if you like.  With his historical background (very impressive!!) I can respect that and will deal with it as long as he doesn't interfere too much with my own need to be musically creative.  Then again, when he was playing the tracks to me he showed a certain level of insecurity, and with careful aforethought (who? me? never!) I may be able to turn it to my musical advantage.

Anyway, they really need Bass and Drums to complete their ensemble, and that in turn can only increase the singer and everyone's ability and confidence, and if I can do anything to assist that then alles gut!  As I write I get the feeling that they could sound quite good when polished, and playing RnR is just so much fucken fun!!!  Though I'm totally hooked on Da Blooz, good-ol'-fashioned Rock 'n Roll comes a very very close second (they're actually very intimate bedmates). . .  I've had a cuppla Bourbons 'n Cones, and now I'm loosened-up a bit I'm beginning to look ahead to next Tuesday evening, when I can blast with my Bass - it's been a while . . .  J

Writer's Block: It Is What It Is

What oft-repeated quote or common cliché do you find the most annoying when someone says it to you?
"absolutely" ( . . . . absolutely!!)


The weather's been pretty shithouse lately . . . I know we get a lot of fronts down here ( . . . if you don't like the weather, come back after lunch!), but I haven't been able to air-dry the washing for a coupla weeks now, and the whole deal's starting to get me pissed-off.  But then, it's always a good excuse to procrastinate, unna?

Yesterday I received a shitload of goodies bought via Amazon – what a great service when it runs smoothly.   Both of
Molly Katzen’s cookbooks, and her salad thingy as well.  I first came across her in 1987 at a friend’s , and I began to read her books (Enchanted Brocolli Forest; Moosewood Cookbook) not as a reference, but page by page, I found them so entrancing . . .  Searched for them sporadically over the years, but then I just lerv to procrastinate, don’t I?  Amazon came to the rescue, and voila!

Also, Jane Robert’s/Seth’s first book “The Seth Material”.  I hope to build a library (adding to what I’ve got) of all the Seth material that’s available, I feel it’s too important to let go . . . today I also ordered the newest compilation of this material: “The Magical Approach: Seth Speaks About the Art of Creative Living”.  This should keep me busy thinking for quite some time . . . .

Then there’s “Jazz Improvisation” by
Jamey Aebersold, and "23 Bass Lessons by Dan Pliskow, both of whom I've already studied previously . . .  looking forward to upgrading my musical skills – its something that you never learn completely – there’s always a new discovery around the corner.  Now I've just gotta work on my acidic diet to keep the athritis at bay . . .

Today I re-discovered The Great
Charlie Lloyd, Saxophonist Extraordinaire.  Man, this guy is just so shit-hot 'n cool, and with his personal philosphy expressed both verbally and musically he's mah main man!  Click on his name if ya don't believe me - Reuben Roger's Bass almost had me sticking to the seat . . . and check-out this one also . . .

Maybe I should give-up working, then I’ll have all the time in the world to indulge in my pastimes, but it’s fun dreaming, unna?

Haven’t been near any international news much latey, so consequently my rage factor is almost at zero, a situation that I ain’t too familiar with; sorta makes one slightly restless and expectantly edgy (come back GWB and your murderous thugs - I need you . . .!)  – maybe I’ll go wipe me arse with a celebrity rag . . . . . aaahhh . . . . . that feels much better already . . . . . ;-)


Everyday I pick up my guitar and play, but today I do it for LES PAUL, the man who's life and efforts did more for the development of popular music culture in the past more-than-sixty years than arguably any other person.  The man who pioneered designs of electric guitars, beginning with a solid-body electric model Gibson in 1941, has died of complications from pneumonia, in New York.

It seems appropriate that the first clip that I found this morning on YouTube was Les & Mary doing
"Waiting for The Sunrise", as Les drifts away to another new day in the great gig in the sky - what a hoot there'll be up there today, and I'm not invited - the GREAT COSMIC GIG, all the departed Rock 'n Roll Masters, now with Les Paul front and centre stage . . . . . WOWEEEE!!  It was a rather emotional moment to see him playing on his own new design, the original Les Paul Gibson, a most beautiful instrument that hasn't lost a bit of eye appeal in all the years it has been around.

And his playing?  All you would-be rockers, eatcha-heart's-out!  His fingers moved like liquid lightning over the frets - he was in total control!!

Now it's time for the angels to put down their harps and learn how to play guitar . . . . .


I've now got the new LiveJournal Messenger. My Windows Live ID is cheech47@livejournal.com. Sign up now and we can chat!

three lives behind . . .

In reference to the last post, I remembered that I wrote an interesting poem on the subject whilst in a deep and dark pensive mood many years ago.  It was, literally "a dark and stormy night . . ." when these images flashed across my consciousness in the space of a few seconds, and this effort was the creative result.

Enjoy . . .


I can't see where I'm going so I'll stop here for the night.
I'd like to get some rest - if I relax then I just might.
But it's been a hard and weary road, and these wasted years, I find,
Have slowed me up, and worn me down, till I feel three lives behind.

The guy behind the desk in this hotel here off the street
Looked really weird, with sunken eyes - his shirt looked like a sheet.
A bony hand reached out and stopped me stiffly in my track
As he handed me the key  and whispered softly: "Welcome back!"

Now, I don't get into Fairy Tales, and I believe what I can see,
But this old spent man with his almost voice put a chilling spell on me.
So I grabbed my bag and climbed the stairs, pretending not to hear
and as I drifted off to sleep his words returned, so clear . . . . .

I dreamt that it was morning, and when I went to pay the Bill
The old guy was still sitting there, so grey, so cold, so still.
When I sought an explanation of his words the night before
He just raised his weary eyes to mine, and pointed at the door.

"So many people pass this way and ask me what I mean,
But it would take Eternity to tell them what I've seen.
The last time that you passed this way - was it '46 or '7 -
You stupid fool, you thought that you were on your way to Heaven.

"But Heaven's not the home of those who pass through that cold portal -
You, my friend, have been condemned to go back and be mortal!
So leave your bag, be on your way, and next time do it right -
'Cause if you don't we'll meet again some other cold dark night!"

My heart turned cold, my senses reeled, my mind was swamped with dread.
"What sort of crazy game is this?  How can you say I'm dead?"
No answer came from those grey lips, no notice did he take
Of my so obvious distress . . . . "There must be some mistake!" . . . . .

I woke to darkness all around; the bed was soaking wet.
The hairs were standing from my neck - this wasn't over yet.
A faint grey light came through the blinds, but not enough to see
That the cause of my disturbance found its origins in me.

With bones of ice and feet of lead I moved across the floor
And slowly raised the tattered blind a little bit, no more.
The town had gone, the mist was thick, and the only thing I could see
Was an old and rusty staircase disappearing down from me!
©2009 sinkrimart

past-life therapy . . .

I'm half-way through a book that was lent by my good friend Brenda: "Many Lives, Many Masters" by Brian L. Weiss M.D

It's noticeable how certain data and resources seem to appear just when they're needed, and how they are often chillingly relevant to one's current research or points of interest.  They often seem to slot right into my consciousness at just the appropriate time and place, as if to a plan that hasn't been shared with me.  I don't know if that's just me tapping into the mass group subconscious, or if its some interior force that's acting from the depths, pushing me gently back onto my path, but it certainly has the desired effect.

So, to this book.  I guess I should wait till completion, but I can't help sharing the interesting perspectives that Brian Weiss deals with.  I've had more than a passing interest in the subject of reincarnation over many years, beginning with a little black book that fell into my hands in the Parramatta Library when I was just 18, in 1965.  It detailed the purported OOBE of an English Christian Minister set, I think, in the early 19thC., and had such a profound effect that 44 years later I can still feel the hard floor under my bum, still smell the musty book smell, I can feel the warmth of the sun on my arm as it shines through the window glass, and I can still see and feel the small book in my hands - I'm actually right there (certainly a starting point for a discussion re linear time vs. simultaneous time . . . . hmmmm).

This was followed by my introduction to Edgar Cayce in the early 70's (
"Many Mansions" by Gina Cerminara" has been a permanent bedside fixture for many many years, along with Robert Frost's Selected Poems).  I must admit that Edgar Cayce has been my role model as a perfected human entity for many years now, and his ethical use of, and open approach to his talent is to be admired and respected.  Its only a pipe-dream, but if I could anonymously achieve only 1% of EC's accomplishment in the aid of humanity, then I would more than justify my existence . . . .

(I just realized that another of my greatest  "heroes" is also an "EC", viz, Eric Clapton)

I'll have much more to discuss and share on this stuff as this Journal progresses - it's a subject that's extremely important to me.

knock knock, who's there . . . ?

For the last few years - seven, actually - I've been the recipient of a series of similar synchronicities based on words and sounds.  They began when I was typing into my Journal, the radio playing in the background, with the concurrent  repetition on the radio of the word that was being typed at the time.  Not that remarkable, I agree, and probably quite common-place.  Then a few days later a recurrence.  Big deal!

After  this had happened a few more times, closer and closer in time (also while I was reading with the radio on), I began to think more seriously about this phenomena - it also occurred with the TV, and even audio CD's.  What made it interesting for me was when they began to recur with amazing frequency, at first almost every day, then more than once a day, and even within a few minutes  of each other.  I was totally blown away the day I had an event when I was writing in my Journal, and only seconds later while I was commenting on this, in parentheses, it happened again.

I realize that there are any number of interpretations of this subject on the net, but I am by nature a procrastinator, and apart from the links below, and a few other other bits and pieces, what I've found hasn't really caught my interest.  When the pupil is ready, the Master will come, so I guess when I'm meant to understand, then I will, but till then every now and then I feel that old cold shiver when it happens.

I did keep some records of the occurrences, but at the time I could never really see any connection, but then I guess I didn't know what to look for . . . .

>> "Synchronicity is the conscious perception in a physiological time track of the simultaneous manifestation of the multi-dimensional universe. It is the conscious recognition that all events, objects, relationships, points of view, perceptions and interactions are ONE thing viewed from different perspectives."  -
http://www.trufax.org/general/synchronicity.html (This is a truly brain-expanding site, if you're ready for it . . . !)



Whaddya reckon?

Hi . . . !

Welcome, and thanks for looking in.

I don't really have a plan for this gig, so it's an evolutionary work-in-progress, as I guess a Journal/Blog should always be, else it has no reason for existence.

At this stage I'd like to share my Internet and other researches, and my daily thoughts and observations, with anyone who gives a damn, as I consider that the search for knowledge and its assimilation, interpretation, and application is almost as rewarding as the sharing.  In return I hope to receive positive and constructive feedback which may assist me to place my own thoughts and ideas into their appropriate perspectives.

"What good's all that shit?" I hear gurgling in the dark recesses.  Well, I believe that while the actual facts and the particular knowledge gleaned are only relevant to the present incarnation, they serve to assist in the expansion of one's awareness and psyche, and THAT is what we, as entities, carry over with us to help us prepare for the next round of existence . . . just follow the links as we go along and if you're not into alternate realities than maybe you just might have your consciousness tickled with the itch of inquiry.  Believe me, it doesn't hurt a bit, and can become quite addictive . . . .


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