a rough inventory
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Abstra, Aubergine, Brigit, Goldenheart, Journal, Poetry, The Panther, the Leopard, the Selke
In my spare time (ask anyone who knows me, I define "manic") I have been polishing my poetic inventory. Well, actually my overall writing inventory. Just to see what all I have. Hey, it beats the hell out of reruns of "Two and a Half Men".
My current catalog breaks down thus (as of midnight, August 1, 2008. We all know that I have written about 50 new works since then…deal with it).
- 18,642 poems
- 143 essays
- 82 short stories
- 3 novels in various states of completion
- 3 screenplays in various states of completion
This does not account my general discourse on my various blogs, which numbers int he thousands of entries.
The poetry breaks down, as best I can figure, out of the 18,642
- 285 sonnets
- 46 villanelles
- 22 poems greater than 100 lines
Credited inspiration:
- 2,182 to Abstra (the abstraction muse)
- 740 to The Panther
- 488 to Aubergine (I have gone back to using totem on this one)
- 94 to The Leopard
- 82 to The Selke
- 72 to Brigit
- 55 to The Goldenheart
Some of these numbers are a little rough. I tried not to dwell on anything for too long.
So what does it all mean? I don’t know, but it was an interesting exercise that gives me fodder for internal debate for a while. And don’t think that the numbers mean much. In terms of classic, timeless and quality pieces, I would say that Panther is way down on the list, for instance. I will let history decide which muses were really luses and not just channels for a generic creative spirit needing outlet.
contemplation
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Affirmation, As such, Candy Tothill, Dan McTaggart, Dante, Elric, Evangelist, Evangelist Tour, Jezika, Journal, Karla Sasser, Larry Jaffe, Michele Beschen, Peri, Pink Jade, Poetry, The Faerie, Thoughts about Life, music, podcast, the Selke
The drive to see my parents (I am in to actually see my 95 year old Grandmother, who is in failing health) is always an interesting time, as it allows me buffered time to think out loud. Usually I get a lot of thinking and writing and sonic experimentation on the 3-1/2 hour trip.
This morning was no exception. It started as a ramble, dealing with lyrical issues on the new Evangelist CD, but then segued into an examination of my life over the last year. A lot has happened, many events and elements I could not have foreseen. Some gentle, some brutal.
All in all, I have come to a conclusion. This is one of the best years of my life.
I have reconnected with old friends I had no expectation of ever hearing from again. I have taken public stands on the issues of the day, been recognized for these stands, and made connections with people who have the power to affect things. I have loved openly and with abandon a woman who loved me in the same manner. I have broken some bad habits, written some great poetry, recorded some interesting material to posterity, helped a few friends get elements of their lives in order, saved at least two lives (according to the individuals) and published a remarkable book. I’ve learned new words and concepts, examined my own failings and picked splinters from my metaphorical ass.
There have been some downer days and strange pains, but when the scales are weighed, I have to say that if every year was as remarkable as this one, I would be the luckiest man alive. Most people do not live as much and as well in an entire lifetime as I have lived this past year.
I thank all of you who have shared this voyage with me, from the most vocal of friends to the saddest stalkers. From the constant to the mercurial, from the inspiring to the oppressive. From those who will still be a part of my life next year and for years and decades to come, to those who have now passed back into the grey.
I thank you all with profound and spiritual gratitude and wish only to say that, while I compiled a massive list of names to include here, I shall not. Some secrets are best kept. While I won’t lie to you, I will withhold that which would force others harm or pain.
I have some great ideas now to finish up those damn final tracks on Evangelist, and am looking forward to tomorrow with great hope, joy and peace.
I have no quarrel with any of you. If you have with me, that is a measure of you, not me. Being loved and respected is not a measure of a person, loving and respecting others is.
Namaste.
105 in the Valley
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Journal, Karla Sasser, politics, the Selke
The heat persists. I am slowly regaining my strength (the pain is pretty overwhelming, though) and decided to drag my sorry ass to the nearest computer to check in with all and wade through my email.
I found out the following, in short order:
- Some individual wanted to apologize to me for having been mislead as to a quotation from me (someone else had told them that they were the originator). Not sure what the quote was, but if they think that’s the only case of plagiarism of my work I have been apprised of, I have news for them. Nonetheless, very classy to apologize.
- I can get a much larger penis by trusting my credit card number to someone who uses stolen email addresses to advertise their drugs and who can’t even spell my name right.
- The lady in the poodle skirt has a very, very dirty mind. This is a good thing.
- Despite a semester of Russian in college, I can’t read Russian advertisements for porn sites.
- Selkes, by their very nature, are slippery.
- Karla still likes the Braves.
- Banks I have never even heard of insist on asking me to go to a third party site and enter my account number for them, along with my password, Mother’s maiden name and zip code.
- Some childhood friend has bought into the Obama = deep cover agent for Muslim extremists conspiracy theory.
- I typo’d "sewer" in an online interview.
- Viagra has hundreds of different official sites, all of which write me under different stolen email addresses.
So, all in all, I was (for the most part) better off staying in bed and moaning.
I am getting stronger and will fill everyone in on the upside of my trip as strength allows.
song stuck in my head
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Abstra, Brigit, Poetry, Psyche, music, the Leopard, the Selke
I think this is the first time this has ever happened to me. A song is wedge in my head, playing soundtrack to the hours I am spending here, at the computer, editing some technical documents and writing a proposal for a client. Hairy-scary proposal, too. You don’t want to know which branch of the US Armed Forces it is for or what they do with our services if we win.
But back to the song. Wow. It is one of my own. One of the ones off of my CDs. I can’t recall it happening to me before. But the taste, which is the musical version of the taste of remembrance, is doing its thing in my brain, and I am enjoying it. I am rediscovering me.
Not a bad thing, I think. I am happy.
The poem, itself, is something of a miracle. Clearly an Abstra work (one written about not a single person, but an abstraction) I still called upon specific memories of specific women at different moments as I wrote it and later recorded it. The slow, malevolent and mournful guitar was my vision.
I conjoured the Leopard, the Selke, Brigit and Psyche to fuel the work.
Tuesday night
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Evangelist, Evangelist Tour, Journal, Muses, Video contest, music, the Selke
I am starting to worry about the base intellect of a lot of aspiring film makers. I seem to be getting all the questions and queries about the TVC2008 as direct emails. Sigh. Use the comments section, please.
If I am somewhat inarticulate right now, my hands are all over the keyboard and I am typing at a speed that may cause a serious rift in the time-space continuum. I have my iPod earbuds jacked in and Joe Cocker howling through When the Night Comes at a volume setting of….I think 11. Don’t be surprised to find me channelling him a bit on a track or two of Evangelist. I warned you, all of you. Man on fire.
But to quote from Peter O’Toole in The Stuntman "It’s not what he’s been eating but what’s eating him that makes it sort of interesting." Uh oh…we just slid into Matthew Sweet territory.
So the Selke did surface and…she has said she will attend the San Diego show on the tour. She won’t be the only legend of this city in attendance on the route, but it has been a long time. Although she did provide backing vocals for one of my recordings last year (she’s a voice over artist and photographer).
Okay, what’s more driving that Matthew Sweet’s Girlfriend? I am hungry for the influx of pure energy. Ah, Neil Young’s Rocking in the Free World. Not exactly what I need, but it is arcing me while I check the menu. Momentary consideration of an outventing via Van Morrison or Sarah MacLachlan…not sure planet could take the axial tilt. Slipping over to Van Halen…Right Now. Does this thing go to 12? I still seem to have some earwax unvapourized.
Ah, Prince…I Would Die 4U. That’s good. Yeah. Why is everything turning purple? I twirl so fast (are guys supposed to twirl?) that two of my fillings dislodge and penetrate the far wall of the computer room. I lose more dental fixtures that way. Hope the cat wasn’t in the way. I lose more household pets to unfortunate dance-launched dental object accidents.
I used to be able to do that little dance…ouch, ouch. Out of practice. But it feels good to let it out not through my own soul. I will cap with hmmm….something benign to seal the vent.
I toy with Don Henley’s Heart of the Matter, but since that makes me cry when I am sane (you should hear me sing it…I can melt stone, because I have lived it), I decide to wrap it up with Bob Seger’s Fire Down Below. I actually prefer Bette Midler’s rendition, but I don’t seem to have that yet. If I was going to do this song I’d even uptempo it from hers…I have always thought it needed a small thermonuclear reactor under the hood. Billy Idol’s Cradle of Love…take me home…
Thank you for your kind indulgence. I am wrapped for the evening, having pulled too many miracles to enumerate and will sleep with a clear conscience tonight. I may not even make phone calls in the morning. Time for this radiant tiger to spend some time in the jungle. Too many people kick domestic cats for no good reason.
Sex, Lies and MP3’s
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Karla Sasser, Pink Jade, music, podcast, the Selke
This is an article I posted as "Sex, Lies and MP3’s" on Author’s Den, earlier today, detailing my efforts in putting together my romantic and erotic poetry tracks for Valentine’s Day for my podcast show, From Out of the City.
+ + +
Okay, I admit to a certain perfectionistic streak in me, something I control by forcing myself into a single draft mode. I don’t allow myself to rewrite…what I hammer out is either a keeper or a junker. No turd polishing.
My resolve has been tested in general by my new podcast show, "From Out of the City", and in specific by this past week’s goal, to craft two tracks worth of audio programs…a romantic and an erotic one.
First problem, selecting the material. I ran a poll on my blog…got a few ideas. But, in the end, I wasn’t going to cop out and throw the selection process on anyone else. I had to make the choices.
Yeah, I had to pick a handful of works from amongst about 13,000. Good luck.
I sat down and picked two lists.
For Track A, the romantic works, I picked a selection of some of my best.
- *The Unicorns
- *Sacred Smile
- *Monument
- *Damascus, Movement III
- *The Patchwork Skirt of My Love
- *Tread Softly
- *Love Gods of a Forgotten Religion
- *We Owe Debt to Memory
- *A Kiss is an Act of Bravery
- *Soubrette
The "Unicorns", "Monument" and "Tread Softly" were easy calls. Some of my most enduring works, sweetly romantic, proven winners.
"A Kiss is an Act of Bravery" was a last minute addition. I’d forgotten the piece until recently brought back to my attention my the Selke, the young woman-muse who had inspired it in the first case. Her reading of it for a show a few weeks back reminded me that it was a good candidate for Valentine’s Day.
How could I not do "The Patchwork Skirt of My Love", "Love Gods of a Forgotten Religion" and "Sacred Smile"? All three were award-winning works in their own right and evoked such wonderful images. I have to admit the connections between the latter, "Damascus (Movement Three)" and my second marriage made it a challenge, but I was game.
"Soubrette"? I’ve always considered that one under-rated and it resonates with me.
Finally we get "We Owe Debt to Memory", which I think lays a solid framework for romanticism. I couldn’t say no to that one.
Now to the eros. Tougher call. My works, while often in the erotic vein, are not as explicit as some might expect. Indeed, Walt Whitman was as explicit as I. And he’s been gone for some time, you know.
The list I came up with was great…
- *A Summoned Fire (Pink Jade)
- *Warm Breath Stirs Soft Flesh (Pink Jade)
- *Touch (Pink Jade)
- *Possession
- *Wine
- *Tracery (Pink Jade)
- *Jasmine and Plumeria (Pink Jade)
- *Dare We Cross the Rubicon?
- *The Satyr’s Suit
- *How Would You Have Me Touch You?
I sat down, after I completed the readings and the music for the romantic track, and worked these. Rough. I was doing half "Pink Jade" works and a couple from my affair with the Mad Gypsy (eerie coincidence…having not spoken to her in a year, I got an email from her while working on the recordings. The empaths still vibrate.)
"The Satyr’s Suit" and "Dare We Cross the Rubicon", which I had written for Author’s Den, were easy calls. Likewise the two to the Gypsy, "Wine" and "Possession".
"How Would You Have Me Touch You"? A logical choice for a reading, as were a selection of the works from the "Pink Jade" series.
I finished the read and decided to experiment with using Ravel’s "Bolero" for the background music.
After three tries, I was furious with annoyance. I couldn’t get the balance.
I sat back and clicked on the files that the Selke had recorded for me, as background for some of the pieces. Just breathing, soft sighs, little sounds in the back of her throat. The sort of sounds that signify a woman’s contentment with lovemaking.
Effective.
I threw out a day’s work and started over.
First, some humour. Something unexpected, transitioning from real life to love life.
"Lust Bunnies". Perfect.
Then something light, but nonetheless erotic, a flirtation.
"Swerve(flirt)" Having established the need, we’re establishing the seduction.
Now, something transitional. Something with the presence to have us bring in the undeniably erotic vocalizations of my sweet tempered and most loyal muse.
"The Priest of Passion Serves the Sacrament". Excellent choice, erotic, achingly so. The lover as worshipper, bound by faith to love as much as possible, to bring pleasure on the altar of a woman’s body.
Okay, we’re there, we’re raising the room temperature…how far do we take this?
"Prescient Tense: Rose Petals" How sweet, erotica with some gentle romance. Soft core sweetness.
Le’s pull something from the "Pink Jade" works…something unexpected…
"Thin Skin (Pink Jade)" Curves and soft, warm skin. Touching and caressing.
Yes, that’s it! Now, let’s drop the bomb…
"Passion Sympoetique". All three movements: Seduction, Penetration, Sustain. I could hear the music, already, in my head.
Now to bring it to, pardon the phrase, a climax. I had written a piece lately that seemed to get many all hot and bothered. Good enough referral there.
"Feral With Desire".
I had barely finished the last words of that piece into the microphone when the loop browser on my Garage Band software was open and I was assembling the backing track. Guitars, pianos, harps, mandolins…and, The Selke’s backing vocals, beginning after the first two works, and ending the entire recording with a final, sated sigh.
I felt like Keith Emerson. He told a story of having taken Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s recording of Alberto Ginastera’s "Toccato and Fugue in D Minor" to the Swiss composer’s home to have him listen to it. As the final notes faded, the maestro began banging his cane on the floor screaming "Diabolo!"
The keyboard god was worried he’d offended the composer, who explain through his interpreter that quite the contrary, this was how he had heard it in his own mind when he composed it. He was marvelling at how the pomp rock trio had captured what no orchestra had managed to.
I know how he felt, the music came like magic. I mixed and adjusted, tweaked and adapted.
I listened to the final tracks. Then listened again. The listened again.
Then I reached for my upload button as I spoke the nunc dimittis.
I was done.
Transcendence and the problem with being a vampire
Posted by William F. DeVault | Filed under Thoughts about Life, podcast, the Selke
Just got the updates to the podcast menu complete on the site (or should I say "compleat"?). I added two longer selections…totalling almost a quarter-hour of material…"Mood Romantique" and "Mood Poetique"…we’re now up to over two hours of material for listening and downloading.
Heard, at last, from Selke over the weekend…she’s fine…this is good. I had someone challenge me on my "no unasked contact" rule…as it seems to have made for some rather strange relationships (Alisha is the one usually highlighted) my take is this…I don’t ban people from contacting me, or even make it difficult for them. I’m about communication, about discourse, discussion, open thoughts and hearts (even with people who snark and gossip behind my back, Katherine).
But, I also know that sometimes you can blunder into people’s lives and create problems. I don’t want to be guilty of that…I make enough mistakes without going where I am unwelcome. One friend even called it the "vampire rule" ("Enter freely and of your own will") and maybe there’s an origin to that concept there.
Relationships (includes friendships and family ties, get your mind out of the gutter) hampered by the "Vampire" clause include those with my daughter, my second ex-wife and not only my muses "Goldenheart" and "The Truth" but also friends such as Elizabeth, Terri and Camille.
And I am a rogue? Hardly. Predatory? Never. You;re talking about a man who would not even sleep with his own wife if she’d been drinking, as I would consider that rape. If I had slept with half the women I have been reputed to sleep with, parts of me would have fallen off by now (some of the assumed connections are flattering, some are insulting…) Yes, I am flawed in many aspects, my demons have tea with me every morning, and I know I am capable of epic stupidity (I don’t mind being flayed alive for my sins, it just bugs me to no end when a falsehood is hung on me) and the occasional act of seeming arrogance…usually because I have surrendered my will to another who then uses me as lightning rod for their own gulity thoughts and deeds.
It’s time to trot out an oldie but a goodie…originally composed for the Panther, this time invoked for Ann. I carry my crosses only so far before I get bored with being the reserve clause to impertinent children (don’t worry, Peri, you’re my daughter and I love you, despite my flaws, I will not dump you from my life, that would be wrong on so many levels…)
TRANSCENDENCE
the heavens are in heat tonight
for this penitent, penetrative dream.
the iron lion stands astride memory.
mantichore wings of black lace fragments
of a leather lost to the weather of whim.
to him alone is there an accounting.
countdown.
grey skies to brown toxic fumes
as the hypergolic moments when
soul and intellect touch in the ceramic chamber
of a nautilus heart.
the skies scream aside in a fictional friction
of breath drawn out to thread like taffy
pulled too long.
an obit of an orbit, undecayed
as the patina colossus pulls free his lame heel
from the grounding earth
and raises high the last romantic verb.
liftoff.
and I am gone.
gone beyond imagination.
a consecration of madness
sold in gold and honeysuckle silver.
quicksliver slowed to sublimate
into a crystalline matrix of time.
farewell.
farewell.
but it is no longer my concern.
for I burn tonight in orbit no longer.
stronger than an epiphany
made construct in the shallows of an id.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
And, you may ask, what is "the last romantic verb"? I’ll tell someone that again, some day…maybe this time it will be someone who can remember it.
~so while hanging out in your corner...