Song "Love Will Supply" along with drawing "Don't Touch (!)". A Song that was written in Paris, France, back in 1980 at the Hotel Pasqual near Place d'Italy. I called it "Italics". Now, I don't travel for the sake of travel, you know, going deliberately to a couple of thousand places to get my picture with the natives so I could get a million clicks on youtube. I just ended up in certain places. Mostly for reasons we as humans don't understand. Often I find myself at places where there's gold, like here (Puerto Rico, January 2009). They think it's all taken, gone long ago, but it's back. Gold travels, too. The
reality of the caldera. It rises through the strata from the plutons in the water, suspended in it, atom by atom. That's kind of how I travel but in the human "manniere". Unless you stay somewhere for a while, you don't learn anything.
The song was performed using a Takamine twelve-string guitar with real rosewood back. DeMerle strings, lite. D'Adlerio when I can get them. -- In a garage in Bethel, Connecticut, summertime, one air-con going in the window, one in the door and a box fan in the roof vent; that's the background noise. No rehearsal, as usual. Summer of 1987.
As for the drawing, I did a painting of it later on; spring of 1966. It was the last of the serious artwork I would be able to do because the military industrial complex was engineering wars and assassinating leaders to cram the young intelligentsia of the United States into the cannon fodder maw. They think they can only get rich at others' expense.
I was talking with an Australian Vietnam vet, they also were tossed in the tank, who explained they didn't know it was supposed to be an unwinnable war. It was the Aussies, because of their naif initiative, that won the first world war in a few key maneuvers. So the complex had to use the treaty of Versailles to engineer another world war. That's why you're not being drafted, kid. They just barely stopped the sixties hippies once they found out.
Drawing: "Don't Touch". The man, having gone through the battles of war, well... guy gets gal... she's in the barbed wire emplacement. Nothing like a portrait of reality, huh? You disagree. Oh, this isn't my opinion. I had to change my mind, too. We're all hoping it's not as bad as it is. But here we are on the ground floor. So you add about fourteen years and then I get the song. That's love, the swat team that gets through this hostage situation.