Ha—listen to me, pretending I know how to play the guitar. 

Submit a number (or numbers) to my ask box:

1. Name five pieces of art that inspire you to create.  Why?

2. Write five one-sentence prompts.

3. Name three places you create productively.

4. Name three places you DON’T create productively.

5. Is there something that you want from your art?  What is it?

6. Name an artist whose creative process you admire.  Why?

7. Is there a creative field you wish you knew more about?  What is it?

8. What’s the most recent exhibit/performance/work you really connected with?  What about it spoke to you?

9. Do you research your projects?  If so, how?

10. What’s a question you wish someone would ask you about your work?

11. Describe a formative moment in your creative life.  

12. Do you work through drafts, or do you work straight toward a final product?

13. How much or little do you value spontaneity in your work?  If you use drafts, how do you preserve it?

14. If you had an hour with the artist of your choice, who would it be?  What questions would you ask?

15. Describe your art in your own words.

16. Name a technology that helps you create.

17. Name a technology that makes you lazy.

18. How technical are you about your work?  How do you improve your technique?

19.  What’s your favorite piece of art you’ve ever made?

20.  Wild card.  Submit number 20 and a question of your choice.

Harmony in Three Parts, from another perspective:

-

A man in dark glasses turned the corner of a run-down block.  There was green in the distance, behind the shabby outline of the motel, a field of corn or some other grain bowing neatly in the breeze.

He walked to the pay telephone across the street and put the receiver under his chin.  He pushed some coins, one at time, through the slot and waited for the dial tone.  While he waited, he unwrapped a tattered piece of paper from where it was tucked in his sleeve, but he didn’t really read it.  He dialed the numbers, humming intermittently.

-

“I have a confession to make,” Jim said.

“Yeah?”

Before he had a chance to answer, the phone in her pocket began to vibrate.  She pulled it apologetically into view.  ”Sorry,” she said, “I have to take this.”  He didn’t see who it was.  She got up from the table and walked to the opposite side of the bus.  He watched as she pulled her thick bangs all the way back, tangling them in her long fingers.

-

Someone picked up the other end.

“Hey there darling,” he said, adjusting the phone between his shoulder and chin, “How’s the desert treating you this fine morning?”

He leaned one shoulder against the edge of the payphone.

-

“Stop it,” she said, almost laughing, twisting her body so it shielded her from everything but the window glass.  She slumped a little against it.  

Highway Song - Amelie Andrezel

By some miracle, the demon that possesses my sound card was quiescent long enough for me to actually use my recording software today.  The result is a much more sophisticated recording of Highway Song.  

Not very tin cans, but until I actually have mics and pedals that can create and capture the sound I want, it’s just going to have to happen from a place of post-processing.

Sharp Knife - Amelie Andrezel

Marjorie’s flyin’ her airplane

Johnny, he’s got one too,

They got the whole sky to sail through tonight:

Love is a bolt out of the blue…

I’m Lonely (But I Ain’t That Lonely Yet) - The White Stripes

Cover by Amelie Andrezel

I’m working on a guitar arrangement for this song.  Not perfect yet, but maybe you’ll listen anyway?

The night gets cold and I am in France again.

The darkness is the same, here and there, in the corners of the ceiling.  Perhaps I will open the window and step out on to the balcony.  It will be quiet; it is always quiet.  Here is a world of silent music.  Even now, on my country lane, I catch myself listening for it.  The motes of dust tumble by, slowly, on the beat.  

I cannot recall the words.  

My head is too full already.  I am too much of memory, too much found to grasp the ends of strings once lost, frayed edges that once unraveled a city.

Here is the night.  I go walking in France. 

jackshowsmeghisteslacoil:

Blunderbuss - Jack White

Covered by Amelie Andrezel

Have a nice recording of my one-woman band cover of Blunderbuss.  Guitar, mandolin, snare, and tambourine.  Enjoy.