There is no reason for any huge secrecy as "Abandoning Paradise" is not a detective novel. The link is to a story about Chimneys of Edinburgh and, no, it's not really about chimneys but it does have some really interesting ones.
The guitar soliloquy goes here as this is hitting rock bottom. I really was thinking this has got to end but the only way I could figure to do it was to turn on the gas jets ... but that would have blown up the whole building eventually.
This is not something momentarily depressive as this is being hungry for years, etc, etc. Unless you're an alcoholic in the gutter, there's nowhere lower to go.
And I look at the Galaxy Guitar. I never went swimming the entire time I was in Greece or anywhere along the way to Scotland, all for the same reason. Above all the guitar must be secure. If not then it must be guarded. It's not that all people are bad but rather it's a stupid temptation when some are.
All through life, it has been the same as there are countless things I didn't do because I either wanted to play, work on the kit, or protect the axe from harm.
So here we are, Galaxy Guitar, there's nothing else left. Was I worth it?
That just might be the soliloquy in leaving it with a punchline as what measures a lifetime of sacrifice any musician will have to make. Unless it's the instrument telling you that you played it well, what other measure matters.
But then there's The Rescue. Lotho and the Queen Bee fly me out of there.
The medical situation immediately tanks ... but ... there are instruments all over the place. It's not such a deep point that I try to keep a mystery the point is Paradise is wherever you find it, make it, etc so, specifically using these instruments I could not reach previously, what does "The Paradise Song" sound like. These ones have to be in it or the impression would be I could have done it anywhere and that's not true for multiple technical and physical reasons.
There was lots of boosting to get out and do this or that but my breathing was restricting the whole time. I knew I was in trouble before I left Greece. That's why I left.
They have to be in it without it being so grandiose it pretends to be a symphony. Barring some incredible change in behavior, the drum machine can't be in it. I hate it. Everybody hates it.
ML or maybe it's just like you heard in that snippet. That's what I think in 'playing like Hendrix' as that's the touch I have always admired so much. Playing a billion miles an hour doesn't matter as everybody does that but few have that touch.
Perhaps Paradise is the simplicity I have always loved and the other instruments are arbitrary inclusions.
That will be the wrap and it comes pretty close. I'm almost through Scotland but it requires thought in going beyond the personal commitment of what went before. There will be a touchdown in The Netherlands as Schiphol has a bizarre control tower and I shot a pic of it while I was there. That will give a thin segue to some pics of the previous visit to Utrecht.
The biggest editorial decision is the heroin event was a major incident and not simply because I got so sick from it. The question has been demanding answer all my life. I believe it's significant that I would make such a decision at that time rather than some other. However, it also makes the book something that will freak Mother right out.
It is not my purpose to freak out Mother. The incident gives understanding to motivations of others, why I did not do various things, etc and answers a question to me but the editorial question is whether the story of it does anything substantive toward any theme of Paradise. Beating again the artificial paradise of the junkie dream world has no particular value. I have not included it and I don't believe I will.
Reefer is also under a political correctness advisory. Obviously I like smoking reefer but I did sometimes in Scotland. It was just very rarely I could afford any and only early on. There hasn't been any particular reason to mention it but I do feel some concern that this plasticizes things to some extent.
In general, I'm not seeing any reason to mention reefer. It's not paradise, it's focus, a tool, etc. People can call my thinking political correctness if they like but they, well, they can kiss my ass.
The guitar soliloquy goes here as this is hitting rock bottom. I really was thinking this has got to end but the only way I could figure to do it was to turn on the gas jets ... but that would have blown up the whole building eventually.
This is not something momentarily depressive as this is being hungry for years, etc, etc. Unless you're an alcoholic in the gutter, there's nowhere lower to go.
And I look at the Galaxy Guitar. I never went swimming the entire time I was in Greece or anywhere along the way to Scotland, all for the same reason. Above all the guitar must be secure. If not then it must be guarded. It's not that all people are bad but rather it's a stupid temptation when some are.
All through life, it has been the same as there are countless things I didn't do because I either wanted to play, work on the kit, or protect the axe from harm.
So here we are, Galaxy Guitar, there's nothing else left. Was I worth it?
That just might be the soliloquy in leaving it with a punchline as what measures a lifetime of sacrifice any musician will have to make. Unless it's the instrument telling you that you played it well, what other measure matters.
But then there's The Rescue. Lotho and the Queen Bee fly me out of there.
The medical situation immediately tanks ... but ... there are instruments all over the place. It's not such a deep point that I try to keep a mystery the point is Paradise is wherever you find it, make it, etc so, specifically using these instruments I could not reach previously, what does "The Paradise Song" sound like. These ones have to be in it or the impression would be I could have done it anywhere and that's not true for multiple technical and physical reasons.
There was lots of boosting to get out and do this or that but my breathing was restricting the whole time. I knew I was in trouble before I left Greece. That's why I left.
They have to be in it without it being so grandiose it pretends to be a symphony. Barring some incredible change in behavior, the drum machine can't be in it. I hate it. Everybody hates it.
ML or maybe it's just like you heard in that snippet. That's what I think in 'playing like Hendrix' as that's the touch I have always admired so much. Playing a billion miles an hour doesn't matter as everybody does that but few have that touch.
Perhaps Paradise is the simplicity I have always loved and the other instruments are arbitrary inclusions.
That will be the wrap and it comes pretty close. I'm almost through Scotland but it requires thought in going beyond the personal commitment of what went before. There will be a touchdown in The Netherlands as Schiphol has a bizarre control tower and I shot a pic of it while I was there. That will give a thin segue to some pics of the previous visit to Utrecht.
The biggest editorial decision is the heroin event was a major incident and not simply because I got so sick from it. The question has been demanding answer all my life. I believe it's significant that I would make such a decision at that time rather than some other. However, it also makes the book something that will freak Mother right out.
It is not my purpose to freak out Mother. The incident gives understanding to motivations of others, why I did not do various things, etc and answers a question to me but the editorial question is whether the story of it does anything substantive toward any theme of Paradise. Beating again the artificial paradise of the junkie dream world has no particular value. I have not included it and I don't believe I will.
Reefer is also under a political correctness advisory. Obviously I like smoking reefer but I did sometimes in Scotland. It was just very rarely I could afford any and only early on. There hasn't been any particular reason to mention it but I do feel some concern that this plasticizes things to some extent.
In general, I'm not seeing any reason to mention reefer. It's not paradise, it's focus, a tool, etc. People can call my thinking political correctness if they like but they, well, they can kiss my ass.
No comments:
Post a Comment