ricepaper dancer

the times, they are a changin'

Bob Dylan

r i c e p a p e r   d a n c e r

 







Searching for the Sunrise

this changes - everything - so crisp, becoming clearer.   welcoming the bigger picture.


We all deserve a home - a place we can call our own - safe and abundant.  Some things ... are timeless.  Certain photographs.  
The one's we always return to - because looking at them -
makes us feel good.

I am astounded with what is going on right now.   There are so many angry people in the world - particularly in America where entitlement is rampant and where greed prevails.  That being said; there are those who know that it's time.  A shift in the direction of the wind, only because of the volume of our newfound disposition - tirelessly seeking peace - restitution - a balancing of the world's psycho-spiritual budget.  I pulled this track up recently, inspired by events transpiring and am compelled to contribute.   Quite simply put - there is a growing consciousness globally that is moving me in a big way - only in that this would appear to be a time when changes are gaining ground and it being obvious that it's just a matter of time - before we find our home again.

Ricepaper Dancer was originally recorded in 1985 and was featured on my second A&M/Univeral Music album - Searching for the Sunrise, then on my subsequent independent album - Night Parachuting.  It was the opening/closing theme for the nationally syndicated evening contemporary instrumental radio program, "Steps Ahead" from 1988-1991.  I am pleased to present you with a visual to the music, assembled here at home in a few hours today, September 27th, 2015.

This is my way of saying thank-you for listening.

 

flute by Jody Terio
alto sax by Jon Panchyshyn

leave a LIGHT on

in the darkness

before the dawn
in the swelling
of this storm

I often wondered - when I was in my 20's
what music would sound like
in 30 years

what life will be like
now here

I'm a fleeting fox in a fragrant forest - ears up
sensing instability, sensing remorse
tripping the light. I'm on-line
 alone - sensing danger 

over there



I beg, borrow and steal, it's what I do - we do 

voices in the embers - tick tock, fading
haunting me and yet I listen still
because it's important
the reverberation
visitation

in my dreams
those I miss
most
 

sinister systems - twister tornados - in line
at Tim Hortons - orders misread
underpaid brown people - right

send it - them back

the Afghan mission was just
an expensive expression
 

millions are
lost from home
in the swelling
swelling on
running round and with a thunder
to bleed from thorns
leave a light, a light on

  


"wait a minute! 
I ordered fake cheese and mustard on this"  
faaaaak - bullshit

where's good service anymore?


sometimes I go away
for a long, long time
but I come home 
eventually
 

the takeaway - is positive change
a shift in consciousness 

we men need to change
hanging on to the horrific horror
in our duty-free damage control default detox
destiny disturbance drifter dreamer detainment

derailment disclaimer

a tragic trajectory written on tireless tombstones
some call it karma - I call it careless

in the darkness before the dawn
in the swelling
of this storm

need to concentrate
no interruptions 

go away

submersed in liquid learning
leaning forward into
soft keystrokes

lamenting

when I'm rolling with the thunder 
but bleed from thorns

sometimes I get swept away
by all this - and I write
on rusted mechanisms
in places I shouldn't
be - let's just say

it helps me
stay focused
sharp


great art is taking something different in
every time you let it in and yet
 remaining a tad chilly
in the aftermath

resistance is
futile

that unseen twist in the triangle
a terrible tragedy

ok, it's dark and it's late
there are strange sounds
out there - lost again 
radio's busted
flying solo 

crash and burn
falling again

"ouch" 

thank god I have 
night vision 

only it does me no good
right here, right now 

trapping fur
methodically
purifies

before the dawn
in the darkness
before the dawn
leave a light, a light on


early 1984 - settling back, electro-static headphones on
wondering what music will sound like
in 30 years, missing the magic

life is a tapestry
connecting the dots is something that comes with time

wisdom is acquired - trust is earned
ya - I'm old




l e a v e  a  L I G H T  o n


 
missing home
don't know where that is anymore 
pressing on



austerity aqualung acquisition acquiescing
illumination on dry land approaching - night parachuting
over water first and then arriving
careening then crashing
red rain 


into the trees
dangling

dripping


lost