Whatever I thought I would be doing in these last few days, I don’t think it was this – scrambling about making do…but hey, wait, it is exactly what I’ve been doing all year – finding guitars in everyday things. OK. So the tradition continues. Even though I am writing this a day in advance, I can afford to be surprised by the number of things I have missed in my daily search…it makes me think that even when it is over it will never be over…
These, by the way, are hooked chair pads off of my caned seat Hitchcock chairs…sooo typical of me to have black birds in the house.
There are forms of weather that drive me indoors – and heat with humidity will do that faster than any. But snow? It pulls me out of the house – I bundle up knowing full well that I will be overly warm and go out marching about like a German tourist in the Canary Islands. Well, maybe not exactly like that in view that there is a whole lot more nudity involved in Canary Island tourism, but well, marching about purposefully, anyway. Yesterday was one of those days. Sleet (which I do NOT favor) becoming great fluffed up globs of snow – hard to call something that large a flake, really. Something in me tells me that this much wet snow will be hard on the shrubberies – have to get out there with a broom and take some weight off, or suffer the consequence. It is my go to excuse for going out, really…
But I had an actual errand. I had tax forms that needed immediate attention and needed to be walked up to the mailbox. Made me realize that I really did need to get some weight off the shrubs, and made me miss squeaky snow…the dry kind that packs horribly quickly on the deck if you don’t keep it away from the door. That, I suppose, is my go to dry snow excuse for going out. I will shovel or sweep snow any time. It may be that I really am not quite right in the head. Hmmm.
Wet leaves are more accommodating than dry, as it happens. And sawtooth oaks lose leaves that retain color quite nicely…
Wet snow event
First time filing from the road…from The New Yorker Hotel in NYC. So lord knows how this will work. Went last night to see Van Morrison at Madison Square Garden. I’ve been waiting for this a long time. Happy, happy.
So I’m thinking that I’ll find some way cool lute or something to work with if I head out to The Cloisters. Nope. The band of collectors that put together the medieval collection that preserves for us the Unicorn tapestries had not one musical bone among them…or so you would deduce. The nearest I could get was a beautiful little psalter…but know that I was looking.
It feels like a bit of a cheat, I agree – but this was laying on my desk from the other day and I couldn’t pass it up – after all, I’m on my way to NYC this morning to see one of my paintings rendered large on the side of a building in Manhattan. I’m a little
uncomfortable with the technology, I will admit, but the concept is cool – very cool. So here, rendered in J.Peterman and mahogany, I give you a guitar for the day as I double check to be sure that I have all I need to get off the farm and to an art opening in the City…how can I possibly know this? I can’t. Chances are that I will come off looking something like someone just off the farm, but I swear I won’t be wearing my Carhartt jeans…I promise. This in spite of the fact that they have the very best cell phone pocket in the land – or, in the alternative, I could carry a wrench. But no. I shall wear something far more uncomfortable – because this is the way of the city – at least if you believe Sarah Jessica Parker…and out here, we sort of have to…
I expect that tomorrow’s post will be late – probably after I get home…but it should be good – I hope!
Anyway, wish me luck – I’m off.
The cornflowers continue to bloom along the fields of drying corn. It is chicory, and it is probably only called cornflower locally, but it remains beautiful and blue in the changing year. So of course it ranks among the flower guitars. It is not only a pretty thing, but it is a sure way to extend the life of my coffee supply in case of emergency. Coffee with chicory is best served with beignet (and fresh squeezed orange juice) at the Cafe du Monde in New Orleans, of course, still it is a back up resource if it ever comes to it…a small comfort stored somewhere in my psyche…
46 degrees when I got up this morning. Autumn is getting serious. The chlorophyll in the leaves will have to start thinking the upward migration isn’t worth it and start settling out to the trunk, and the leaves will change. I am in my very, very favorite time of year, and I am loving it.
This morning I saw my very first geese of the fall in flight. No matter that they were likely here all summer. They know that the 17th of September is the proper day for arrival from Canada, so it is at least worth touring the neighborhood. Friends of mine wonder how I can put up with the constant racket of the geese (it’s true, they are chatty) but the fact is that I only notice it when they leave. There is comfort with the backdrop of so much life all through the night. The frogs and crickets will be gone, but the sound of the geese will fill the space where summer no longer sings.
I was struck by the number of things to eat that I could find along my walk today. Wild asparagus (now going to seed) Jerusalem artichokes, apples, crab apples, acorns, pecans…dove, squirrel, deer, geese. One would not starve in this place. One would have to work considerably harder than one did for their coffee and baguette, but one would not starve. So I made a guitar from pinecone. Somewhere in there is supposed to be pine nuts – right? I have to look this up, but I can probably say – not yet. And dismantling a pinecone? It is not easy. They are amazingly well built.
Now as I look at this photo – I can’t tell you how many faces I see in the corn stalks…
Yes, I think that is a movie. I did not see it. I don’t make a habit of seeing things that I think will scare me. I don’t really understand why I would. There’s plenty of non-fiction going around to scare me, if I let it.
For me, the corn is the wall that surrounds me at almost every turn this time of the year – well, at least where there are not soybeans. It is can be a comfort to be surrounded this way – sometimes there can be too much distance.
There is comfort too in knowing that in this “field corn” (which is how it is distinguished from the kind you want to eat, or “sweet corn”) the wheels of industry can continue to turn, and that there are a million different guitars waiting to be discovered.
Lately, where I have added any kind of lagniappe to my posts, it has been some amazing natural phenomenon. Recently, however, I came across a different kind of amazing … this photo from Paul Reed Smith Guitars – it makes me dizzy trying to figure out how one would play this thing…
PRS Private Stock 18 Photo courtesy of PRS Guitars (www.prsguitars.com)
Yesterday ended pretty much the way it began – in a blaze of glory…
Yesterday is a hard act to follow, but if I think about it, this could be said of every day, yet it is done…
I am put in mind of a John Prine tune with lyrics “Leaves are burning, just like embers, in colors red and gold – Light us on fire, burning just like a moonbeam in our minds…” (Killin’ the Blues) It always comes to mind in the fall – I sing it when I’m walking.
The tulip poplars along the driveway are old – old for the variety, species and genus – filled with hollows and broken spaces, home to raccoons, squirrels, snakes and who knows what all kind of beasties – they are like the tenements of the farm – every level seems to house some other species. But it not only the shelter they provide, but the broad green leaves and the great banded blooms (that remind me to sherbet somehow) that make them such desirable trees – I wouldn’t dream of taking them down.
The leaves turn early. The oaks alongside them haven’t considered a change yet, but already there are falling leaves from the poplars. Lots of green left, but laying in the driveway, the harbingers…
I’ll admit it. I’m drawn to shiny things. They catch my eye when I least expect it. Probably some ancient existence as a raven… So I was minding my own business, really I was. I glanced over at the table in Ronn’s studio and saw golden globes…what was I supposed to do? They are quite cool as a guitar, and since most loose ends in Ronn’s studio are purple, I can’t be held responsible for purple pens and the like.
When it comes to kids and bikes, it would appear that the word about kick stands never did get out…and wandering through Sally’s garage, there was just something about the sheer number of things designed to keep kids amused that had to be a guitar. Kids of all ages, mind you. Toys, of course, skateboards, (not currently in guitar form) exercise equipment, bikes, certainly. An ATV of some sort, which I’m guessing is really more Sally’s husband, Seth’s toy. Just a whole lot of entertainment filling bins and boxes and space. The only really shocking thing about all of it was how orderly it was. I know that in my spaces, I have most of my toys out …