Briefly now, on the waning heels of a second wind

Happy 2013 and suck on it Mayans. Or really what I mean is congratulations to all of those who cashed in on writing books about the apocalypse.  I missed that boat.  I’m going to check in on some Aborigine tribes in Australia, see if they have any ancient relics that could land me a literary agent.

I have another show coming up on the 24th and I must edit. It’s hard to parse material into 35 minutes, at least for me and what I realized in looking at all of my pieces is that I did write a good deal last year. As solitary as it was, I did produce.  Right now, I’ve been recovering from a cold as I seem to bring one back with me every time I go back to Pittsburgh to see my family.  So I’ve been watching old movies and more so reading about the stars from the  “day” and what fascinates me is how strongly one would feel towards another artist or their work or an entire way of expressing.  Robert Mitchum and Cary Grant both were not fond of method acting.    Marilyn Monroe solicited opinions from across the spectrum, from deep empathy (Marlon Brando) to light scorn from more than one person.

It fascinates me how artists can peck at each other, despise each other but somehow maintain respect for each other’s work and yet sometimes have completely different opinions on one person or piece of art.  I guess there are people out there who think Hamlet is a shitty play, or overrated.  I wouldn’t want to be paired with them in a hospital room for a week, but it begs what’s relative vs absolute, even in art.  I’m going to quit before I start drifting into a Russian novel.

May everyone have a high end magic ham radio that grants a dream or two for you through the airwaves this 2013.

 

 

 

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