A Resolve To Do Whatever It Takes

Just suddenly, from a depth, welled up in my heart a resolve, to do whatever it will take not to abandon any of the three major strands of my childhood, begun in 1943 with conscious intention: making music, writing, and learning by heart texts to recite. To get on with this resolve, I am posting a page from my typescript for a chapter on "Anais Nin As A Bodhisattva published in the 1970s. I remember dipping my pen nib into the black ink in a receptacle sunk into the body of my desk at grammar school, the pleasure of it, the sheer mystery of putting words down onto the paper with this crude instrument in hand.

My Fortune: Beethoven Schubert Mozart Upcoming Shows

Saturday April 27th 5pm "BEETHOVEN FUSIONS" at the Great Lawn Stage Festival Of The Arts, presented  by OKC Arts Council

Sunday May 5th 2pm "SCHUBERT WITH VIDEO PROJECTIONS BY THE ARTIST SER" at Edmond Library

Sunday May 12th 2pm "MOZART FOR MOTHERS DAY" at RJN Downtown Library

Thursday May 23rd "BEETHOVEN FUSIONS WITH VIDEO PROJECTIONS BY THE ARTIST SER" at the OKC Museum Of Art,  brought by Art Moves OKC

All Free - All One Hour

McEvilly Mozart For Mother's Day

Children At The Piano Fascinated By Mozart

Of all the things I do, my heart is mostly at home when I am playing Mozart for children.

Wayne McEvilly's Arrangement of Beethoven Fifth & Pathetique

Ah Toy In Her Parlor Overlooking Clay Street

It was a century undefined, a world which was an amusette.
She was emergent at a time when the world was taking note of personality, and her life was a life as a drama of a life of a woman who makes choices and with full awareness of consequences...she requires men who cooperate.
She is creating herself as a reality of art - and all who touch her life she creates.
She wrote in her book of days -
"When you are writing then at that very moment you are also searching, searching for the reader who will hear you.  But what is this, if not some species of regret?"

She received the citation in her parlor overlooking Clay Street - it was handed over in silence by a rather sheepish looking rather Irish appearing San Francisco cop. She took the paper up and turned it over in her hands, rolling it about between her palms, brought it to her forehead, eyes closed, studied it through the thickness of her closed lids, and then took it out to read -

"Tapping at her window" was the accusation...she smiled and turned to thank the messenger, who had, as it happened, already made his way out..."

With the phrase "tapping at her window" tapping at her mind, she mused that always, always, at the end of the day, it is got to be taken off to market, to market...no matter what it may be - the living of a metalife? She knew all about it who had ever sought the absence - the blessed nod to one's request to "Count me out!" But it seemed at this moment she had been very much counted in, and she squirmed as if caught in a net. She made a sudden move, as though to escape drowning...
to be continued

A Gradual Evocation - The Word and With It The Thing

A Gradual Evocation -
I hear my own voice respond to my past three posts on "The Book Of Anais" -
"nice passages"
"nice piece of work"
and I laugh to myself
soliloquy

and I continue -

"The form emerged as there had been this gradual evocation, celebrating the eternal meaning of all that which passes.
I am reaching back far-to the orange crate on the lawn-to the sublime solitude, alone with my notebook and my pen, a child once again.
African violets often occupied my mind, I would see them when I went within, purple and yellow on black velvet-or it was of their care and maintenance my mind was full - a single leaf, its stem planted firmly in the moist soil, puts down roots, brings forth life, blooms - a car passes - the child takes note - an out-of-state license plate - Delaware -
Delaware - the word was so lovely, as lovely as the silver star shining brightly in the not yet dark sky - the child looked up, and, looking down, made another note.
"The bright star appeared before the fall of night."
He liked how that sounded. He mulled it over in his mind. "It is not the statement that is made," he had then thought, "rather it is the word - the word and with it the thing. The word and the thing."