The videos relate to No. 6 as she knows very well the Snakepit and was there or somewhere around while the videos were being filmed. So was our ol' Mother. If No. 6 should see them, she will know.
The reason for lying so low is I don't want to explain what I'm doing and some of it may not seem to make much sense but all of it is inter-related.
Life is art and music is the expression of it. So this is one of the art parts. I don't know what music follows from it but that's not part of my thinking anyway. That will come but only if the art is good. I'm not going to explain much of anything so you'll just have to trust me that what happens with this is pure.
Some stuff is ok as the Snakepit series is deeper than it seems but the obvious part is my own campaign to wipe plastic discs out of my life. Perhaps this satisfies Yevette's spec that the content of the DVD must be accessible some other way before it makes sense to melt the plastic. Fair enough and you can see the result.
There are some chatty bits that were between some of the videos but I have not uploaded them so we'll leave up to Yevette whether the uploads satisfy the spec. Only she can make the call as she came up with the spec.
Note: it would be possible to roll up the videos into a single large movie but the software is $35. I don't have the money and I'm not convinced it would be useful to anyone except that it would fully satisfy the specification that, yes, the DVD has been duplicated online. That would mean the same process can be used for others.
So I ask you trust me on this. I'm not running away, leaving anyone, changing much of anything ... I'm not even stoned. I just need a lot of silence just now as this shit isn't supposed to be happening and I feel like all the springs will go shooting out of my head behind it. They won't, it just feels like it. Too much input. Way too much.
I strongly recommend you go to hear Voodoo Shilton play tonight at Cat's Art MusikCircus and maybe he will do one of his songs called "The Littlest Elephant." Even as I type the words, tears try to work into it but they aren't allowed. I know if I hear that hauntingly beautiful melodica he plays then I'm gone. There are lost little elephants all over the place and Voodoo knows it, you will hear it in how he plays. That the man can play with such blazing speed but also have the sensitivity for this is a very rare thing.
Everything really does fit into everything else. It's only when we try to make it otherwise that things break.
The reason for lying so low is I don't want to explain what I'm doing and some of it may not seem to make much sense but all of it is inter-related.
Life is art and music is the expression of it. So this is one of the art parts. I don't know what music follows from it but that's not part of my thinking anyway. That will come but only if the art is good. I'm not going to explain much of anything so you'll just have to trust me that what happens with this is pure.
Some stuff is ok as the Snakepit series is deeper than it seems but the obvious part is my own campaign to wipe plastic discs out of my life. Perhaps this satisfies Yevette's spec that the content of the DVD must be accessible some other way before it makes sense to melt the plastic. Fair enough and you can see the result.
There are some chatty bits that were between some of the videos but I have not uploaded them so we'll leave up to Yevette whether the uploads satisfy the spec. Only she can make the call as she came up with the spec.
Note: it would be possible to roll up the videos into a single large movie but the software is $35. I don't have the money and I'm not convinced it would be useful to anyone except that it would fully satisfy the specification that, yes, the DVD has been duplicated online. That would mean the same process can be used for others.
So I ask you trust me on this. I'm not running away, leaving anyone, changing much of anything ... I'm not even stoned. I just need a lot of silence just now as this shit isn't supposed to be happening and I feel like all the springs will go shooting out of my head behind it. They won't, it just feels like it. Too much input. Way too much.
I strongly recommend you go to hear Voodoo Shilton play tonight at Cat's Art MusikCircus and maybe he will do one of his songs called "The Littlest Elephant." Even as I type the words, tears try to work into it but they aren't allowed. I know if I hear that hauntingly beautiful melodica he plays then I'm gone. There are lost little elephants all over the place and Voodoo knows it, you will hear it in how he plays. That the man can play with such blazing speed but also have the sensitivity for this is a very rare thing.
Everything really does fit into everything else. It's only when we try to make it otherwise that things break.
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