City of Legends

Alive, well, bouncing off the walls. The old track injury on the left ankle is being persistent, but I’m pretty much determined to win against it. So, there.

Got a strange call yesterday from a friend who wanted to know if finding a roast pig’s head in ones side yard was a sign that someone was casting a spell on them. I said no, that’s it’s a sign someone didn’t like the doggie bag from the luau. Think, people.

I am going to include Erotic V in the Evangelist CD, but I am tweaking it a bit, to make it fresher.

Sunday is the boys’ birthday. Between now and then I am insanely busy with 10,000 distractions. After Monday, I will have a great deal of freedom to resolve some nagging issues. Like getting the first layer of the new website completed (I started last night during Project Runway).

The Roman and I had a brief exchange yesterday…he brought up the name of she who must not be named. I was frank with him. I have not moved one iota in my feelings for her, but am compartmentalizing (a last-ditch strategy I despise) to deal with her peculiar way of be uncommunicative. I have enough fun adapting to my own brand of insanity, other people sometimes confound me.

New poetry! Will be sharing soon. Including some of the most outwardly and openly erotic works I have ever done.

 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.

I have an old friend in Los Angeles, name of Phil Brown. He’s a journeyman guitarist who played with several bands…some of them predating my puberty. But he’s an interesting fellow.

A few years back, when he was pushing a solo comeback, he put out an album called "Sex Sells". It didn’t do so well, but he was right.

So, to let you all know, I am making a few minor changes around here. No, not going all-nude all the time. Not even semi-nude part of the time. But I do know the value of a beautiful woman or two.

So, I have modified the Entrecard "cards" that are used by that service to help me trade connections with fellow bloggers. In place of my sad face, you will see the cover of my last CD, "Nightblooming" featuring the…er…face…of Jaz, the musician and poetic protege of mine, plugging this blog. By the way, I have approached her about her laying down the music to a single for the next CD. Her style of old school thrash rock would play interesting counterpoint to Jezika™ and her trance synthesizers.

The Amomancer blog will be fronted by the cover of my book "As such…" featuring…aw, you all know who that is, so let’s not be coy.

Who knows, maybe readership will climb (actually, since I made the change this morning, Amomancer has had a surge in viewership! It currently leads this blog in hits for today!)

With the brain-curdling strains of Nutbush City Limits featuring the Ike and Tina Turner Review blasting holes in my eardrums, the evening rolls close to an end. An interesting day, to say the least, full of adventure, distractions and accomplishments.

Jezika™ and I finally selected the poem she is going to lay the techno magic to. I told her if it comes out well, it will be the opening bit to the tour. That’s right, the psychedlic kid has chosen (or as she put it, she fell in love with) "I rained poetry" to give the rave treatment to. Let’s see what it summons. Excitement.

Halfway through working on some technical details this evening I got a text message from Karla (The Mad Gypsy) Sasser, taunting me about the fact that she was texting from a concert in Birmingham, featuring Sheryl Crow and Shawn Mullins. Not a huge Mullins fan, but since Sheryl is my second alternate back-up wife if and when Candy grows tired of my antics, I should have been there.

The new poem "the rise of bragi" has spawned some interesting emails. Good. People, you have no idea what’s about to happen, do you? Me neither, but I know the bend of the light when gravity warps. We be ready for Gotterdamerung. It’s a simple equation, think of the human mind like an athlete’s body, you burn the immediately available fuels in the first portion of the marathon, becoming tired and achy and weary. Then, when you think you can’t take another step, the body flips a switch and the near-nuclear energy of secondary sources comes gushing out as your body becomes actually more efficient It’s called second wind or second kick. When I get really, really beat down, my brain does the same feat of prestidigitation. I spelled that right on the first try. Wow.

Thin Lizzy’s The Boys Are Back in Town just rose from the depths of my iTunes selection and drove red-hot razor-sharp steel barbs into my skull. Fun! The cat is hiding. Coward.

Everyone on your feet, The Z, Warren Zevon, is now pumping Werewolves of London…ahhhwoooooooooooo!

I have to go…the moon is full.

The last line of my comment to Twist (TwisterB to you old AOL WC jocks) under a previous post yielded the opening line to a new poem. Allow me my indulgence.

I will teach the heathen what love is ere I am consumed.
I will not pass like a cycle of familiar moons
for I am made of a different soil and stone.
Prejudices waste my fire and desire, sins assumed
are never of the right resonance, the bent spoons
prove themselves runcible, the tines atone
the smooth surface you presumed, based on history,
a mystery for those who chose to rise as a firebird
to light the Southern skies, to deny themselves
a blithe dance on Protean petals for a story
that will never be old, told as pain is cured
and the sorrow it slept in becomes pages parked on forgotten shelves.

William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
for Candy.

If you take the time to wander over to www.peacat.com you will find yourself able now to access the 21-minute "raw" file at one stage of the evolution of the CD Evangelist. This is a single-take reading of more than a dozen poems, with some minor percussion thrown in to fill the back wall of it.

It is very raw, unfiltered and unpolished, but represents me speaking from the soul. Thanks to those who en couer raged me to put it out there, even as the project itself is in limbo.

A particular tip of the hat to Susan Sonnen, who prodded me mightily on this one.

I am dancing like the hurricane.

On the morning of May 19th, 2008 (yes, even in Johannesburg) a link will go up, most likely at Peacat.com, although I reserve my right to change my mind about that. I’ll make sure to let everyone here know.

It will be to download the rough one-file of the original Evangelist CD, still under heavy rework. I promise Susan Sonnen I would slip her a copy, then decided that was gutless of me.

What you will hear is the raw take of the recording session for the original concept for Evangelist, with just a little percussion thrown in to smooth it out. It is very raw, with pops and hisses and the occasional side comment. It is as naked as you get (listen to my voice, see where it stretches and collapses).

I just think I need to get some of these 18.4 gazillion projects I have accumulated off of my plate before I am smothered. This one did not require collaboration.

So about 6 am edt, just before noon Jo’burg, it should be out there…approximately 21 minutes long, 15 poems, including "I will take no pretender", "I stand for you", "I will dream of you till morning" and "pain to peace" as well as "Evangelist".

No denying, it’s archival raw material. I was actually quite ambivalent about releasing it, it can be rather embarrassing, even humiliating, to let people in that close to the center of my soul, but the Long Beach read reminded me that, to quote, "the well of life is love without fear".

Dedicated, of course, to the amazing Candy.

For a sick friend that I shall not desert. Iron words in this world are rare things. And I would own them.

draw from me all you require
that I might fulfill your needs,
to bleed my soul to your life
that I might do what you have asked:
to share without fear or doubt.
to dream without question.
to believe in something as beautiful as you.
and to be willing to leap with you
when comes the precipice.

for it is better to leap with you
than to be left in the darkness remaining
when you have gone and the light
has vanished with you

William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

What think you, should the title be "draw from me" or "when comes the precipice" or "what dreams may come"?

I hate conundrums, those lousy vinegar in the mouth moments that make you crazy because you don’t have enough information to figure out the right path. I’ve never found it easy to just shoot from the hip, because I’ve seen too many wounded people in this life.

I have a CD to deliver today, Evangelist. I’m sitting here, listening to the tracks, and I can’t deliver it. Conundrum. Oh, I could finish the packaging, upload the downloads over on peacat.com and let er rip. But the truth is,, even though my name is on the title to it, peacat is a site for a partnership. And, although I know she has seen the cover on this site, and I know she is aware of the project and my plans, I can’t be the kind of person who presumes that just because she didn’t say "no", a woman meant "yes". To assume the intentions of someone who may be unable to make their wishes known or unable to render a binding decision, that is rape, on whatever level you deliver it.

So, the CD stays with me. The cover stays with me. And the tracks, as they are, may find their way into a podcast or as separate offerings here, but I am not going to play by the rules of the rude. I’m better than that. When Candy is able to express her position and opinion, I will honor it, as more than a passing acquaintance and a business person who respects the wishes of others. I considered making the CD an upload from elsewhere, or even just putting it straight to market, with an all-black cover, but decided that would be a cop-out.

Kairos over kronos is a big thing with me. The right time over mere clock time (Candy calls it African time, and it drives me nuts because it stretches hours into days and weeks, and I like getting things done). I walked into, by invitation, a complicated universe, and despite my doubts and misgivings, I will not allow it to make me into less than what I am, for pure expediencies’ sake.

So I am hitting this shuttlecock over the net. If it gets hit back, great. If not, ah well, she inherits everything I have written or recorded in the last few months anyway, one day, if she is smart, so it is still just a timing issue.

Happy Mothers’ Day, everyone. Did I ever mention that I have been to the church in Grafton, West Virginia, where Mothers’ Day was started?

Yep.

Thought I’d link here to the new piece there, entitled "I will be no pretender". It came to me while I was driving home a bit ago for lunch, a ritual I developed a few months back, just to talk with someone I would happily go out of my way for. I rushed to get it down, and it evolved a bit in the transcription.

I think, I just think, there is enough time to get it down for Evangelist. Nothing too ornate, straight forward and acoustic.

Or maybe it needs a Jim Steinman touch? We shall see what evolves.

Fly or fall, I am looking forward to finding out my fate, in time. It is out of my hands, and there is a sort of comfort in that, having surrendered my last illusion of control.

But go, check out the new poem. It is powerful and loving. If you’ve heard me read before, think of it as something akin to "Strange, but Beautiful".

ahem.

ahem.

AHEM! (gunfire into the ceiling)

Guys and gals, regardless of what you may think, that I have some divine or sublime pipeline into what is going on 8000 miles from me, you are wrong. I am as much or more on the outside as anyone.

Look elsewhere for your answers, I have canned goods to stack in my fallout shelter.