olympus epl-1
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| ©2011 gary garbett.com |
During a recent field trip to a mega home furnishings outlet, I discovered amongst the rows and rows and rows of couches and chairs in every color and fabric option know to man that ornamental adornments, like most furniture, requires an acquired taste. Regardless of your flair, everything's for sale. We didn't carry one home with us, but for a few bucks, you can even mount a realistic plastic sculptured buck as the focal centerpiece trophy to your home decor.
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| ©2011 gary garbett.com |
My closet and dresser are filled with years of gathered fabrics that I rarely ever wear. I just don't have the time or the place to, but each are on my list of things to one day accomplish. After not wearing one for several years, I purchased a new wristwatch last week. I use to always wear one and not really sure why I quit. I like knowing what time it is at any moment of the day. It's another tool to keep me on pace with my regimented routine.
Ah... routines. My father certainly had his. As a teen I promised myself I'd never fall to such day-to-day mundaneness. Seems as though time and age have both changed that for me. I'm always battling myself to find the time to accomplish even a few items each day that I've penciled in on my ever growing "must do" lists. Maybe what's really happening is that I'm really living someone else's life and theirs is just getting in the way of my living mine. Or even worse, maybe someone else really has mine. If so, I just hope their living it exactly the way that I planned it.
As for today, I can scratch, "post daily blog" from today's list. Enjoy yours.
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| ©2011 gary garbett.com |
I sang along with Crosby, Stills, and Nash
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| ©2011 gary garbett.com |
During my 6AM drive to the office a few weeks ago the expressiveness of a soul captured me. Along the monument of avenues was clearly the openness of a heart. One of pain, one of apology, and one of sincerity. Posted on each street pole for nearly a mile were single-line love notes, each beautifully hand written with a heavy black marker on random neon colored papers. Each were posted at the same height along the heavily traffic route, four to six per block. Without coming across as overly sugar coated, the mile of I love yous was the most sincere and genuine love letter I may have ever read. The sentiment was honest, confessional, joyful, sorrowful, and real. Following three sunrise mornings, random letters began to slowly go missing. By the end of the week, all were gone ....leaving nothing but a memory.
God bless the poets, the songwriters, and every love letter gone unread.
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| ©2011 gary garbett.com |
The opposites I captured here interest me. The arm in arm moment of the Saturday morning couple is the counter balance found in the foreground vacancy of the lone table for one.
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| ©2011 gary garbett.com |
One of the closing snippet stories Brian Williams shared with me during the evening news last night was that Dan Peek from the group America had passed away the day before. It saddened me to hear this, though the blow seemed lessened with so many of my musical heroes having left the stage early over the past few years. This year alone, there have been too many to count. They all left far sooner than I'd like, but fortunately each of them left a wealth of their art behind.
As I do each evening, I spent last night in my office with my turntable listening to a few albums in their entirety before marking off another day from my calendar. Among a few others, America's debut
But I know that you're gonna cry
Tears are runnin' from your eyes
The piece of my life you take
Is one that so often breaks
Whenever you are miles away
I think of you the way you are
Your shining lips, your auburn hair
And then it don't seem quite so far
Well I know that you're gonna cry
Tears are runnin' from your eyes
The piece of my life you take
Is one that so often breaks
Well I know that you're gonna cry
Tears are runnin' from your eyes
The piece of my life you take
Is one that so often breaks
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| ©2011 gary garbett.com |
Music centers me. From the time I was a little boy, it always has. I get lost in it and it simply finds my soul. I've had my share of music devices over the years from numerous record players, a lime green portable AM radio with a thin plastic wrist strap, chrome retractable antenna, and a single mono ear plug, several 8-track and cassette tape decks - both portable and stereophonic stand alones, a Sony Walkman, cd players, an iPod and other digital media players. The one that got me started around 1964 was a box unit Beanie and Cecil record player. I then started collecting 45's from the time I was about five or six years old. By the time I was nine, I was serious about my music and began buying albums, partly because of the art as well as the music. A few of my firsts were Led Zeppelin III, Credence Clearwater Revival - Cosmos Factory, The Guess Who - Canned Wheat, and The Osmonds self titled. Yes, the Osmonds.
My appreciation of vinyl albums continues and I try to make it a point to listen to a few each night. I love the artwork and packaging. I love reading the liner notes. And I love hearing the depth and richness of the analog sound as the reflection from the grooves dance on the turntable. It's been nearly 50 years since Santa brought me that Beany and Cecil box and the love it opened up for me continues. Record albums define who I am. They've been my best friends for a long, long time.
Last night I enjoyed time with Cat Stevens - Teaser and the Firecat, Santana - Abraxas, and George Harrison - Thirty Three & 1/3
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| ©2011 gary garbett.com |
Growing just outside my studio window are two sunflowers standing nearly ten feet tall. Orphaned from a few seeds I'd tossed into the soil several years ago, they peek through my window and smile on me and the pups.