Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Art #30

michaelberton

Michael Berton

We’ve decided that this is a pretty neat thing, a quite beautiful thing, really, this Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Art thing, this infinitely changeable thing, this unpredictable thing what it has been all along we suppose but one can’t really see such a trend in a small sample.  So we arrive at number 30, and after a month of caffeinated Mondays we assert, smiling, yet humbly, that this is a pretty cool thing, a quite handsome thing, really.

Milo Duke

Milo Duke

Consider the February 2, 2009 “Blind Date Edition” line-up, per se.  Initiating, delightfully, with the accomplished troubadour Milo Duke packing emotional and technical wallop-mastery and more tempo changes than a Tchaikovsky ballet; Michael Berton, deadpan voice declaiming his uncompromising verse, often cantankerous in its lack of punctuation and asphyxiation of grammar, all to sublime effect; and Ezza Rose bearing multiple stringed instruments, each an angel’s harp to accompany her stunning voice, rendering a canon of wicked-smart and delicate songs: “Power is a dangerous thing/And all the beautiful that it brings,” as she sings in “Storyteller,” and we can’t help but agree, regarding each of you, dear performers.   We who have the good fortune to be part of Show and Tell Gallery Productions are truly blessed, and we want you to always be a part of it, to return to it, to bring your friends, to show and to tell, as it seems to be real, and it feels good – a real, good thing.

Ezza Rose

Ezza Rose

And share we do, although we forget what we are doing, our shoelaces untied, in the afterglow of each week’s invited performance, leaving the power on, the mic open – an open, “on” mic available – it is not the Machiavellian star, rather it is the steel stagehand of the outstretched arms of the Show and Tell Open Mic, our nuclear ars gratia artis embracing our friends, our heroes, our champions all.  Is that why Melissa Sillitoe shares, as if revealing Secret Knowledge, the story of why she calls people “chipmunks,” who root for the roto-endearing Justin Parris – seems he’s got it as bad as we do, and his sink drain (rhymes with brain) is infested.  We scrutinize the inscrutable writings of Christian and we follow blind (could this be… an infirmary?), and that’s a fact.  And, you, young man, Dwight Peters… yeah, well…  there’s imagery here… that… well, our dirty mind is interpreting…  so… keep it up, man, this is… intense.  And, check it out: Wayne Flower sings – SINGS – a capella… you had us at “broken,” man, we tell you what.  We are grateful for Rick J, who is MySpace friends with Keats and we are but his brief and accidental audience – the reverse would be impossible to arrange, not even by Melissa Sillitoe, whose Astoria pilgrimages are apparently as legendary as our own.  We encounter the thoroughly digniified Tob(e)y, reciting from memory Tom Crawford’s “Pacific City” as well as one of his own, and betraying a depth of memory yet to fully expose itself to this brief and accidental audience. The present satori of Mike G’s writing “into a very dark and painful place” (see 3FM:CA #27) appears to us to be a lateral move.  Then appearing and disappearing in sequence let’s go down to Big Pinkside for the sage, steel-handed Patrick Bocarde vs. the modern yeti machines, and xonclude, delightfully,  with Eric McEuen showing off his infectious, three-week-old ditty “…for anyone who’s been disappointed.  Anyone in this room?”  Not us – not tonight, anyway.

Justin Parris

Justin Parris

Ars gratia iTunes, while a beautiful thing, may not have the same ring, at least not to our traditionalist ears, much less to those of Edgar Allan Poe’s, whose prose in The Poetic Principle goes “that would we but permit ourselves to look into our own souls we should immediately there discover that under the sun there neither exists nor can exist any work more thoroughly dignified, more supremely noble, than this very poem, this poem per se, this poem which is a poem and nothing more, this poem written solely for the poem’s sake.”  When we are taking a break from looking into our souls, might we remember that this thoroughly dignified podcast lives at the same old Three Friends Mondays: Caffeinated Series page at brokenhours.net under the same old, dying sun?  We forgot to point this out last time.  Nevertheless, permit thyself to look into the sink drain of the modern yetiTunes machine, for there you should immediately discover the podcast, this very podcast, this podcast per se, which is posted solely for the podcast’s sake, and which can be subscribed to via this link:

http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=295435461

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