April 12th, 2006

abstract butterfly

evening primrose

Evening primrose! They are the new blue. We did not get many bluebonnets this year, which succumbed to the cyclical drought. Ashes to ashes, blue to pink, pink to yellow, yellow to thistle-purple, thistle-purple to cowsill white, to Winter's chill death to Spring's chill rebirth.

Evening primrose, like guppies, fail to garner the appreciation they deserve because they are lovely, ubiquitous, and slightly off kilter, somehow. In this, they resemble Olson Twins and Celestial Seasons tea. I drive by carpets of them along the roadway, harbingers of black-eyed susan, pink wonders unto themselves.

I played tonight with freeware I had downloaded some time ago, called Quasi-fractal composer. Previously, I had not figured out the point of the program. Tonight, I realized what a powerful compositional tool it truly is--whether one is, as I am often apt to do, willing to input data in hopes of generating curious sounds (and, by the way, I *love* the "goblin" fx pad in the general MIDI library), or whether one is bound and determined to calculate quasi-fractal equations. I created a track, sample-sliced it in Slicer, stretched and pitch-shifted it a bit, and added the resulting odd tune to my album "Subtle Precautions". The album keeps taking turns for the dissonant, which, sadly, is rather a narrow lane for much of my "work", that is, for the portion of the work that does not sound like Sunday afternoon at the Free Methodist Cathedral Hymn Sing and Organ Festival.

A frequent musical collaborator and gifted imagination, the artist/musician Anchor Mejans, created a new remix of one of my rare bits of sung original melody, my folk song "Saint Bernard song". He married to it the vocal morph I did of my song, "Saint Bernard Rescue", and
added great atmopherics and jazz of his own. The result is at:

this website, available for listen or download.

But right now I'm thinking about wildflowers, the consolation we have in Texas, along with the actress Janine Turner, for the lack of mountains, oceans, and Rodney Bingenheimer. I am thrilled to see evening primrose, with its promise of susans and coreopsis to come.