Kevin Slick: Journal

Patti at the Troc 12/16

Winter warm air, rain that should be snow wanders along Arch Street gathering light and laying it across the pavement/ Slow breathing, vibrating air filling the cavern space. Gathering moving swirling, the air wraps a slow dance around a heartbeat.
Many hearts
one heartbeat.
Gathering darkness, look inside. Stillness erupts into life. Spirits called, spirits answer and gather themselves inside us, dancing to the heartbeat, slow enough to wander lonesome.
Lonesome cry, the blessed dust rising from ancient radios. One foot forward, balanced on the bridge, this bridge we cross tonight. Strong enough? Invisible bridge, crossing spirits, gathering passion, sonic harvest, the fields are heavy as wind brings release.
Running
walking
calling
spirits, we shall live again!
Holy ghost sweating, breathing hard
call on those holy fighting ghosts
revolutionary dreamers
dancing barefoot to the slow rising wave
one wave
a million waves
rise and fall
night and day
and lovers gripped by slow burning, consuming lust, hot fire, sonic lust, the sound of life
the hot pulse of night passion
quick torrent
split second passion burn
Catch me now!
Take me now!
Look fast! A million brilliant stars calling home the storm
holding the hurricane in your arms
air surrounding
air inside us
breathing
hard
pulsing
moving us together
fountains rising
lightning storms from the desert flash the city
walking in the footsteps of revolution
Hallelujah!
The gospel ship sets sail
and we whirl and dance in our power
amazed at the visions
amazed at the power we create and share
and then,
breathe again
into the night
the warm December air, a million streetlights like stars

There is a slow thick sky today
a slow
soft
dark grey light
on Thanksgiving morning
I came home to watch the silken sky
open around trees kept company by a few stubborn leaves, now rich brown like old leather. I came home for this slow moving daylight that will wait outside my window
quietly lighting the room with a grey light, a slow light, a dream light. And in that soft light I’ll take down books from the shelves and read words I’ve read a million times and want to read a million more. And in the evening the sharp black lines of trees will begin to sink into the sky as it looses it’s day color and fades away. The woods will be swallowed in steps too small to measure and the trees in the front yard will disappear and someone will say “Another day gone” and that’s why I came home, for another day.
For time passing
for slow thick skies
that move through branches on trees
I’ve seen a million times
and want to see a million more.

There was this sound
and I don’t know if you heard it
but it came from somewhere close by
and it sounded like the voice of a friend
and yet there was something new
and different
and strange
yes,
strange enough to make you stop
strange enough to make me stop
and listen
and the sound was awake
or perhaps the sound of awakening
and I don’t know if you heard it,
but I’m telling you this
because I want to remember
that sound
and I want breathe that sound
because my heartbeat has found a partner
in that sound.

too many
and so many
thoughts
carry me away
too many
and so many
words hold my heart captive
and yet
so many
dreams blossom
quietly
like the trees
just beyond this window and
if only I would
stop
for a moment
to look at them
and breathe

The morning mountains
lifting soft shadows
to the sky
as sunrise
pulls back the cover of darkness
and what is
ever changing
and what is
eternal
and what is
newly born
and what seems to be
hidden
is waiting
is changing
is forever
and I
watching
remember and
discover
what is
ever changing
and what is
eternal
and what is
newly born
and what is
earth
and what is
sky
and what is
now and forever
and what I am

Desert song
The notes are so slow
they enter in dreams only
and I listen through my fingers
The rhythm of the ground
sifting between my hands
I am listening with my skin
to the cool touch of shadow in a deep canyon
Desert song
like waves of sound
riding the stone ridge of the San Rafael Swell
Desert song
an echo
a counter rhythm for my heartbeat
in that place where my footprints disappear
I listen for the harmony
I taste the melody in the air
In this place I hear my sound join the slow, ancient sound
I am one string on a violin
In that moment I am one note in a symphony
In that moment I am the most important sound in the universe
In that moment I am one sound in a thousand others
merging, invisible, in a slowly changing chord
a wave like any other
so beautiful on the sea
perfect
fleeting
eternal
Desert song

For the Flying of Kites on October Days

The air is tight
clear
brittle
like glass wrapping the earth
sunlight sparkles
separating
shattering on impact
crystal leaves reflect a million colors
startling
clear and brilliant
limbs release their handful of jewels
rubies
amethyst
flaming diamonds
scattered and throwing a million strands of light across the land
The sky begins to open
as trees spread bare branches
This is the season of the sky
the rich earth dissolves into air
we circle the earth with bare branches
open the sky and follow the wind for a moment
like a brief dream before sleep
for a quiet afternoon
where we ride the wind into the day sky
balancing between seasons
before the sky swallows the last days of autumn
for now,
stillness
balance
and the flying of kites on October days

In this moment I
expand-
open
As
Some part of me
dreams
some part of you touches
my heart
becomes sky,
vast horizon
As
Some part of you flows
Some part of me
wakes
As
Stones in the river
Over ages grow smooth
I am softened
in a moment

holding you

Your body is so new
Where did you find it?
Like pilgrims before the crossing
Like settlers on the edge of freedom
Dreamers on the edge of night
On the morning of discovery
On the crest of a wave
The moment before changing
Falling
Flying
Becoming something new
And
It’s morning in the new world
A
Precious jewel given to me
Held in my hands
You

I was in a bookstore when…

Godfly yo blingo
bo teddy fry not slabber
ah wet-lee go dingo
and bil-bee in tatters.
Cron tingle the soft spoon
elastic in spatters
see-bart doe fingers
ripen the singers
tee-blex that lingers
and harbor the goat
Tay-beeps!
Tay-beeps!
The shore is not swingle
apoot-vents go flavel
a donkey plays bingo
Ooh border gap nan-tooth
your wingle unhitching
my wandering snip nose
unfloundered while pitching
Yet gingles do platter
and rake the small tweed
not won-ton on butter
or the foot of Sam Snead
So stand fully bothered
and pink the green pine
For I have found a book finally
about the artist Franz Kline

Moment of Change

I’m always looking for the moment of change, the moment when change begins. The crest of a wave, the edge of winter, the break of day. There is a powerful stillness on the edge, a powerful silence too. The moment of flight, hanging in the balance. There’s a moment before falling when you fly, when gravity forgets you. A powerful still moment, the moment of change.
This is when we slip inside time.
When we open time like a curtain and crawl inside, in between seconds, in between time. There are words underneath your skin, breathing underneath your skin, waiting for the moment and changing. Constantly changing. With each breath, the air changes around us. The sky becomes fuller, the air around us ripples and changes. This is the time for faith, when the balance tilts and change begins. Pure energy released and moving the world. But in that moment there is only silence and stillness.
Pure stillness,.
Pure silence, the power of the universe
waiting in the falling of a leaf.

Autumn 1

Slow and suddenly autumn
eternal and quick as lightning
slow aging wood releases color
sparkling light of aspens
flickering
descending
earth accepting the final warm caresses of it’s lover
sunlight
yellow warm soft light
soon that turns
cold with brittle grey fingers
as winter will hold the ground

i remember a few years ago when I was meeting with a group of creative folks we gave ourselves the assignment to create something new each day. This year I'm going to try to post a new piece of writing per day from now until the end of April. For those of you who don't teach writing you may not know that April is national poetry month...but it is.
So here's my first entry. Now a disclaimer -I'm either editing something from a journal, or creating something new. So I'm not attempting to write a new piece every day. I'm using this as a prompt to get more of my writing out into the world.
So here goes-

Southern Utah Journal

This is my cathedral
Wide
Beautiful
Wild
This is my dream land
visited by spirit gods long gone
and yet to be
There is no time
No passing of time
There is only a sound
and no sound
in this land, silence is a sound
in this land there is stillness and power
in this land the patterns of sky and rock are joined
forever
My eyes walk high ridges
cutting through ageless stone
my eyes walk with the older spirits
and we follow the same patterns
of rising stars
of rock edges against sky
My cathedral
god mountains rising
saints and angles towering
watching
My cathedral
beyond dreams
only in dreams
There is no time
time has been laid aside
forgotten by these solid living gods
who spread dreams across the ages
one slow life dream
one slow word spoken
forever

Hello everyone,
Here's a film you might want to see. "The Cracked Man" by writer/film maker Kevin Corcoran. you can find out more at thecrackedman.com I highly recommend it, especially if you enjoy your humor on the dark side.
On the light side, I've been enjoying the music of Bill Douglas lately, "Homeland" and "Deep Peace" are two CDs I'd suggest for some early springtime listening.

This winter has been the perfect exmple of "be careful what you wish for" Here in the Rockies we've had a White Christmas, White New Year, White MLK Day, White Groundhog Day and it looks like a White Valentines day as well. A little hard on driving but in my opinion beautiful enough to take my breath away almost daily.
I'm feeling quite blessed here in the mountains and I've actually started writing and recording some new music...first in two years! I've re-mastered the film scores I had previously done for Nosferatu and Hunchback of Notre Dame and they'll be available on DVD by this summer along with an all new recording of my score for Phantom of the Opera.
I'm not sure what the groundhog saw or didn't see last week, but from here life looks beautiful and feels just as fine. I think I can see spring coming!

As the election day drew nigh I was, quite honestly, afraid to believe the predictions of a democratic take-over. And now, after several weeks and a few resignations later I have to admit I am basking in the good news! Of course it's just the beginning. Call, write or email your representatives, especially if they're part of the freshman class. They are our "hired help" as Will Rogers used to say. They should be working for us. I've taken the time to visit my congress people in Washington on several occassions and I would recommend that everyone do the same, it's an eye-opening experience and well worth the time and effort.
On the local level - it's lovely here in the Rockies, the snow on the mountains glows with the pink of sunrise while the full moon is still visible above the mountains. My son and I have been decorating the tree and building a new table for our model trains.
I've put together two new DVDs of my former band Neo Pseudo and will be finishing several new silent films for DVD with new music soundtracks.
I hope you enjoy the season and have a wonderful beginning to 2007.

It's been a long dark night in this land of ours. The extreme right keeps on plowing ahead as if nothing is wrong, as if no one cares, as it no one will lift a finger to try to undo the damage. While there is plenty on the news to cause me to cry "how long?" I hear the voices of truth speaking out, I feel like I can see the sun on the horizon. I feel that the sounds of truth are beginning to echo, to find listening ears, fertile ground to grow a better world. Election day is only weeks away, we have the power to redeem the work of fools. I believe that truth can win. The present administration has built a house of lies, deciet and hate. I believe love and truth is more powerful and lasting. We have the power I believe.

I've been thinking a great deal about this fifth anniversery of September 11th. In many ways not much has changed over these five years, I'm still looking for answers.
Here is what I wrote in my journal on that day and the following days as I went about my life and work in New York City.
September Journal
By Kevin Slick
Copyright 2001

9/11/01

I bought a newspaper on the way to work this morning.
I thought I would talk with my class, fourth grade at P.S. 116, about the primary election for mayor. After all there would be people in and out of school all day since it was the polling place for the neighborhood around 33rd and 3rd.
But we didn’t talk about the election.
The voters left early, if they came at all.
By three o’ clock in the afternoon I was alone in my room.
Sunlight was coming in the window at an autumn afternoon slant
Dragging long shadows across the front page of the newspaper,
Still lying where I left it on my desk.
No one will ever remember the stories from the front page of today’s paper.
No one will ever think of this day and talk about the election
Or any one of ten other stories that were worthy of the front page of the
New York Times on September 11th, 2001.

I walked downtown
Smoke arched across the sky
People’s faces; grim, vacant, worried.
We talked to each other like people at a funeral;
“How are you doing?”
“Are you okay?”
The streets, a constant stream of fire trucks, ambulances, police cars.
Police on every corner
Crowds gathering at the hospital a few blocks away.
And the people’s faces, unbelieving
I can’t believe it.
(how many times have I said “ I can’t believe it” when I could have said “that’s surprising” or “ I didn’t expect that”)
Now, I really can’t believe it.
Tell me again,
They’re gone?
Those two buildings are gone?
The two buildings I see from my window every day?
The two buildings I rode past this morning on the train?
Gone?

9/12

Everyone is in motion today.
On Fulton street the sun is shining and the streets are full of people.
Loud dance music rips out of a store selling stereos.
A man is begging on the corner, shaking a cup full of coins endlessly.
Now he switches hands and adjusts the volume on his Walkman. He’s looking all around and no one is looking at him. He looks around some more and drives his electric wheelchair away.
The other people on the corner just keep talking and ignoring the place where he was.

The sky is still so blue today
Only that one line of grey
Grey smoke to the south that lays across the sky.
It looks like rain clouds,
Long, low rain clouds
But it’s too sunny for rain.

There’s a cool breeze
Like the best ocean breeze on the last day of summer
It’s such a beautiful day
Such a beautiful day.

Is it nature, or God
Trying to say that life goes on?
Is this a day to help us heal?
Is this a day that covers the terrible with beauty?

This beautiful sky lies across our lives
We are held together under this sky
Held together by each other
By our heartbeats
Our footsteps
Beating out a rhythm together.

I heard a woman say
That the most important thing in the world
Was the smell of her daughter’s hair when she hugged her.

9/18
I can see the sun as a fuzzy white ball in the grey, cloudy sky.

In Union Square there are huge crowds
Gathering around signs, candles and pictures
Offerings, gifts people have left.

Behind me, a group is singing “America The Beautiful” some of the crowd, however are only singing the first line of the melody, having forgotten the rest I guess.
The result is an edgy harmony as one group repeats the same line over and over.

People have written poems
And the word “Love” appears over and over again.

Maybe we’re all here just to be next to other humans

Every sound is muffled, like a church
This seems like a sacred site.
The stained glass windows have been replaced with
Flowers
Paintings
Pictures
All those pictures
Thousands of pictures.
This whole city has become a photo album
A large family photo album.
Walking down the streets, I feel like I’m leafing through memories
Memories shared with strangers.
Weddings,
Back yard picnics
Vacations.
I’m looking for my family here
Looking for faces I recognize
And I realize I know every one of them.

9/19

I can’t sing
I want to sing, but I can’t find a song to sing
Not one song
Not one song I can sing
But all songs
I have no song to sing
Unless it’s all songs

I try to speak but I have no voice
Only all voices

I’m calling on God
But I think God will only answer
To all his names
To all her names
Spoken as one.

One sky
One blue, heavenly sky
Covers us like a prayer shawl.
I want to wrap myself in the sky.

I wrap myself in these pictures
These words
The quilt of life
Of lives sewn together on the streets by broken hearts seeking peace.

I stand with others, with everyone
In search of release.
My feelings pour out on the names
On the faces
And I think all my feelings have gone out of me
But new feelings appear
Like waves on the ocean, endless
The best I can do is open my heart to the emotions
The way a rose opens it’s petals to drink the dew
And I release those feelings
Like the rose gives up it’s petals.

Howdy, as the title of this entry suggests, be on the look out for the next issue of SING OUT magazine. I'll have a song in the "Folk Process" section. This is the portion of the magazine that features new words to old tunes or new arrangements of songs. They'll be printing my version (including a second verse by me) of Harry Chapin's classic "Circles"
If you don't know about SING OUT, it's THE classic folk song magazine with a history going back more than fifty years. If you want to learn new songs as well as read about the artists and recordings, then you must pick up SING OUT.

The last days of summer are flying by here in the Rockies. As a school teacher I'm perhaps more keenly aware of the end of August and the beginning of the new school year. I've always loved the coming of fall. I grew up in a college town and autumn always brought the excitement of new students arriving, football games and the changing colors of the leaves.
Living in Colorado now I don't get the changing colors so much, but that crisp feeling of cooler weather especially in the mornings still means the possibilities of new beginings.
The Bash in Pittsburgh was great fun, you can find some photos of me wearing Lon Chaney's hat from London After Midnight at the Creepy Classics website (which you can find on the links page) My new score for Hunchback of Notre Dame should be available on DVD soon - look for it at Creepy Classics. I'll be starting on some new films for next summer's Bash soon. I'll be re-doing Phantom of the Opera and possibly some short films based on Poe's poems from the early days of the silent era.
I've also compiled some old Neo Pseudo video onto DVD, at present you can get copies by emailing me.
So enjoy these last days of late sunsets, buzzing inscects and long shadows on baseball fields.

I'm off to my home state of Pennsylvania this weekend to play my new film score for The Hunchback of Notre Dame at the international film conference known as The Monster Bash. You can find more info at creepyclassics.com. the DVDs will be available soon as well as a soundtrack CD.
If you're in northern Colorado in July stop by Rhythm on the River in Longmont on July 8th. I'll be making my return to the concert stage as a singer-songwriter-neo-folky kind of guy at that gig. I can't honestly remember my last solo gig as a singer so it should be fun...or strange, interesting at least!
Fans of Neo Pseudo I've been going through the archives of twenty year old video tapes to find what we can salvage for a 20th anniversery DVD. Also expect a few new releases from the Neo vault this summer.
That's all the news for now - Remember what the Carter Family said - "Keep on the sunnyside"

I'm talking about "The Seeger Sessions" by Bruce Springsteen. Get ye to a CD shop, or flip your browser to the nearest online store and get this disc now! You will not find a better album this year, or next. The album has joyful soul oozing out the sides of the packaging...careful it may spill all over your CD or DVD player. You don't know what you're missing, so go already and let the wild rumpus begin.

Hello everyone,
Yes, it's the time of year when it snows one day and then it's seventy degrees the next.
A little bit of news - I'll be in Pittsburgh this summer to perform my new score for the silent film "Hunchback of Notre Dame" starring Lon Chaney. For film fans in the house I'll also be participating in a discussion of the most famous "lost film" in the world - Lon Chaney's London After Midnight. Some of Chaney's original costume and props will be there as well. This all takes place at the Monster Bash International Film Convention. You can find more information by clicking on the link for Creepy Classics on the links page of this website.
Looking at the evening news - I think Russ Feingold has the right idea, too bad the congress seems to be populated primarily with spineless single cell organisms that can only react to stimulus, and lack the capacity for thinking much less acting.
Last time I checked you could read the text of Senator Feingold's censure resolution at his website.
Take it easy, but take it.

I'm getting pretty tired of hearing news-talk shows debating the question "Is it okay for the government to spy on citizens?" So, they're talking about the NSA secret spying deal, but in my mind the asking the wrong questions. I believe a better talk show would start with this; "The president says it's okay for him to break the law whenever he feels it's in his or the country's best interest, do you agree?" Remember - the laws of our country give the president legal means to wiretap, even to get permission after the fact. We shouldn't let the talk show hosts obscure this point - the question for all of us is: Do we let the president break the law?
For me, the answer is no.
We all must decide.
Good night, and good luck
-Kevin

This will be a news rather than views entry.
Four new albums are up on the CDBaby page. There's "Thunderstorm, Radio and Keyboards" which is an all instrumental album similar to some of my film score work. It's full of sonic audio landscapes from gentle mood pieces to strange journeys into sound.
Also new to the page is "Laughing Symbols:NoSono by Neo Pseudo. This is the classic collection of early Neo Pseudo recordings that gathered rave reviews for it's quirky, delightful tunes. Also from the Neo vaults comes "Folks like Us" and "Postcard" two albums recorded in the early 1990s when the band had re-lcated to Philadelphia. "Folks" features the acoustic side of the band as they sounded during their residency at Makams Kitchen and their gigs at Godfrey Daniels. "Postcard" features tracks that were recorded as a follow up to "Ritual Laughter" and several studio tracks recorded at the Pseudo House. This album also includes the famous version of "Riot in Heaven" recorded live in one of their return shows at Penn State - the ultimate Pseudo wackiness!