Did What / session https://youtu.be/ePy4_Pw8IPQ Video http://www.alansondheim.org/didwhat.jpg Azure Carter, voice, song Edward Schneider, alto sax Alan Sondheim, sarangi, uke, bass recorder, guitar, shakuhachi Alto sax throughout - 1 sarangi 2 uke, Before the Fields 3 bass recorder, Before the Fields 4 Mussima guitar 5 1.6 shakuhachi, Dark Robe 6 sarangi a little rough... trouble with balance... skip back and forth... 6/13/21... Edward as good as ever... please pass the ketchup... loves sports... 49 minutes... definitely skip around... doesn't play chess in spare time... "Oh, You kid!"... not my highschool yearbook!... "What's he got to now?"... on to a better life... no future in geology for her... shotput champion... future in farmlands... got stuck on "syzygy" in Spelling Bee finals... what's a "bee" anyway?... see you in Forty Fort! ___ UTC http://www.alansondheim.org/UTC.mp3 http://www.alansondheim.org/UTC.jpg UTC time signal and carrier wave, shakuhachi in perfect stasis. This is an _offering_ to time, not music, not enchantment. It continues forever. How to measure time when we are immersed in it. By which I mean _our hands can never reach the top._ Or for that matter the border of the _manifold._ what we breathe is all entangled. If I stop my hand heartbeat breath neural mind bloodflow: time stops. Not that it _must_ stop, it just _stops._ I call this _pure physics_ or _psychic phenomena._ Do I ride the signal of time, or does the signal of time ride me? Does the shakuhachi swim in the signal of time, or does time ride the signal of the shakuhachi? These are undifferentiated. Be assured death is an interval. An arrow goes nowhere. Let us think: worra. Let us reverse psychic phenomena. Let us undifferentiate. Shakuhachi sound _swallows_ time; time bounds, binds, shakuhachi sound. Neither do I age nor retreat into negativity. I am _bound_ to that. Neither am I _bound_ to that. --- 1947 I don't remember radio. I don't remember popular songs. I have vague memories of opera; these were surely in the new house of 1952? 1948 Or thereabouts - remembering crying in the car with mother, worried that if she kept kissing me, she'd run out of kisses; already I was frightened, gathering security and comfort where I could, this very early memory. Oddly, I was sitting in the back seat, reaching towards the front; her back was to me, the road ahead invisible. 1948 Remember around then Miss Rickenbacher, but I think this name is wrong, for kindergarten, earlier? 1950 All through childhood I had to take weekly Saturday allergy shots; I was terrified; my arm would swell up like a molten hive. I had hives as well in my hair and in camp, once, a huge swollen lip from chewing on a plant stem. Grotesque. Now I have an antique microscope from the doctor, Doctor Dattner, who was a home practitioner and family friend. 1950 I was given a small film projector with a crank on the side; it was crinkled black with a translucent window for viewing the animated cartoons. All of my work has stemmed from this. The magic reminds me of the last Bergman film; you saw _through_ the images, in a sense, to the light beyond. I may have been playing still with blocks; I remember two sets - a German one, of artificial stone cut into basic shapes and died pastel; and an English one, of wooden architectural elements, many of which were painted. These were my worlds - along with a stuff cocker spaniel, I believe; I've always tried to sink back into the maternal and the imaginary - I've repeatedly been expelled. 1952 I really don't have a date but wonder about my early love for Theresa who worked for the family and who I think went to an asylum. All my memories are like this, vague dates, worried and blanked memories. I __ _______________________________________________ NetBehaviour mailing list [email protected] https://lists.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour
