Harold Carr
Harold Carr
music featuring harold
home :: community
Sun, 23 Aug 2009
flesh
unleashed empty dark senseless unstoppable ash unknown hugh no-thing unfriendly chance an-other rupture dissolves dirt abject dissonant matter palpitates every-body ’silence’ is its own end |
— for Georgia
Death is time mixed with eternity
death counts
Georgia Carr, May 4, 1947 - August 22, 2009 ]
Fri, 07 Dec 2007
Hi Grandpa. I just arrived. It was a rough time for me but my Mom was
great and did a wonderful job of bringing me into the world. I weigh 7
pounds 1 ounce and am super healthy. I can't wait to meet you. Here
are some pictures my Dad took when he first meet me a couple of hours
ago. I hope you like them and he said to call tomorrow when you get
some time.
Love,
Gwyneth Carr Zufelt
From Jasmine the next day:
Hello Everyone. Yesterday was the big day. Bruce and I arrived at
the hospital at 5 a.m. on Friday and spent the day in labor. Gwyneth
made her way into the world at 4:55 pm. Not too bad of a day. She
weighed in at 7 pounds 1 ounce and she is nearly 20 inches long at 19
3/4. Our new little family is doing well as we actually got some sleep
during last night. We should be leaving the hospital first thing
Sunday morning.
Talk to all of you soon.
Jasmine
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Saturday, January 27, 2007 — upright locked position
I am
a concept
like rain
in reality
it doesn’t exist
instead
a million water drops
thought like a clock
connecting ticks
what you see &
what you say
out the window
through thin
clouds 4 billion
years of rock
& blue reflecting
centuries
while we move
in the porous world
the sun moved
too before you
a desire
to become one
—the buffalo long gone
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — morning
in bed
drift
&
list
(& forget)
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — coal
white light
behind the cave(s)
like five
blind
bats alive
evolving alone along the border
(turn to the sky)
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — photo
facing a forest
birds in the sky
a well (or wall) behind
somewhere a sea
a sound
child blurred turning
image
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — sounds from cole
bare where stare there air
sun one once done
blind nine line a lake
when awake was world woke what want
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — white
train on its rail smoothly
inside its own world
traveling to the sea
a field on fire out the windown fading
curving across the world
the face looking back your own
walking on a moving train
green blends with the blind equation
field after field
all we see is light
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — bass seller
From Wilhelm:
Michael Olivola (and his wife).
Sunday, January 28, 2007 — music at Andrew’s
Sunday morning lying around reading while Flavia and Venus laugh in the front room and Chiara makes a great breakfast. We drive to Napa and tour Copia. Then we have a light dinner at a deli in downtown Napa before splitting up—me to Andrew’s in Oakland to play music—them back to Sonoma to have dinner with Venus’ family (Flavia’s ex).
I arrive in Oakland after an hour drive. Andrew and I hug and head upstairs to his studio where I get out my bass that is stored at his house. I was planning on selling it, but the minute I took it out of its case I changed my mind—the wood is too beautiful.
I warm up while Andrew sets up his recording gear and saxophones and flutes. A bit later Debra Craig (drums) and Terry Rolerie (guitar) arrive. We improvise then take a dark chocolate, blood orange and cake break. Then improvise again. Terry is a very quiet electric guitar player (and avid bike rider) and Debra is a sensitive drummer. Lucky for me—I played without an amp.
Driving home I found a station with some great solo piano—kind of an update minimilist Eric Satie. The show was Heart of Space playing Hans Otte’s The Book of Sounds. I just caught the tailend at 10:50pm. PT. At that time it was just single piano notes, one after another, no chords. But the choice of intervals and sequence were beautiful. I’ve gotta get that work.
Monday, January 29, 2007 — her body
where she lives
she fills it completely
(let me touch your lip
it is is your & it is)
where & to watch
inseperable from her
silent & private country
sleep in my cupped hands
where you can see clear
to the bottom words carved
into the body falling
her arm as if
it lived her life too
Monday, January 29, 2007 — Chilean Embassey San Francisco
We said goodbye to Venus and Chiara and drove to San Francisco. Flavia had an appointment at the Chilean Embassey to get her passport renewed. While she took care of her business I went to Rasputin Music and picked up some CDs. In particular, one I’ve been looking for: Thelonius’ Monk’s Greatest Hits. The exact versions of the tunes on this CD made me realize just how much Monk was a percussionist (in a different way from McCoy Tyner). I want to transcribe some of his approaches to his melodies and solos and arrange them for bass.
Then I went a block away to Cody’s (the San Francisco branch - unfortunately the Berkeley branch closed down recently) and picked up Craig Dworkin’s Strand (I figured I should learn a little about the author’s work who lives and works so close by).
Flavia and I then hooked up and drove to Berkeley and had lunch at La Note on Shattuck. After lunch we walked a few doors down to Pegasus Books where I picked up Bob Perelman’s iflife.
We drove to the airport (several hours early for a change) and enjoyed reading all our new books waiting for the plane and flying back to Salt Lake.
Sat, 09 Sep 2006
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poetry at Sanders
& her tanned shoulders
one after another
authors all
older than sound
checkmate meaning crisscross
just testing jests
the poet
should her answer call
off streaming creeks lakes books
books books voice in page
say heart or brain or joke &
some sound mumble tone
says softly seeming visit
or living here all mingling
stumbling down trusts the poet
he she mostly he
sings their say hear
& why worry
about being behind
time or even
ahead oddly posted often if
blest hymn
