Thursday, April 11, 2019

This morning a friend sent me this image of my books being displayed at the Topanga Canyon Library.   When I lived in the canyon from 1966 to 1977, we didn't have a library.  Or, I have no memory of a library.  When I look it up online, I was very happy to see a clean well-lighted structure that is the library.  As anyone who read my book, TOSH one would gather that I had a troubled relationship with Topanga.  To this day, and it has been a few decades now, I cannot bring myself to go into the canyon.  There are memories while writing my memoir, but to actually go back to the physical space or area that is Topanga, is totally unthinkable.  It has nothing to do with the people who live there now, but I feel that there are feelings trapped in the canyon area, and I can pick up on its sadness.  Even going to the San Fernando Valley gives me an odd feeling of depression.  Topanga, I feel is because of its location, but the Valley reminds me of the sad times I had at Parkman Junior High School, and I lived that life already, and I just can't go back.  

I think it is healthy to live in the moment, but alas, I tend to live in my past.  My yesterday is more exciting than the present, and as for tomorrow, who knows?   I spend a great deal of time listening to music and reading.  As of ten minutes ago, I finished reading ""The Possible Life of Christian Boltanski" which is a conversation between Boltanski and Catherine Grenier, regarding his somewhat strange early life, as well as his artworks and installations.   During World War II, his father, who he thought disappeared from home, actually was living under the floorboards.  Boltanski also never left home and very much stayed by his mother, until in his early 30s.  He even played with toy soldiers up to that age!  A remarkable and strange life.  I don't know his art that well, but I find the works intriguing and somewhat sad.   He's married to the fellow French artist Annette Messager, and I see similar aesthetic that they both share in their art. 

Yesterday I got an album in the mail by Egisto Macchi called "Contemporanea."  For the past year, I have been obsessing over the music made by Macchi.  As far as I know, most of his recordings is for music Libraries, meaning that he does music for a company who then rents or lease's soundtrack music to film producers.  I'm not sure if they do this in the United States, but they do so in Europe and in the U.K.  Macchi is similar to Ennio Morricone (they're friends, and they make music together), but like the Maestro, his music is highly melodic as well as experimental.  I have been slowly collecting his library music soundtracks, but it's expensive.   "Contemporanea" is strings or small orchestration with incredible percussion.  He's a genius at mixing natural instrument sounds with electronics or percussion. I love his work.

Early this year I read "Rebel Rebel" by Chris O'Leary which is a deep read into every David Bowie song.  That was volume 1, I'm now reading "Ashes to Ashes: the Songs of David Bowie-1976-2016" volume 2.   A nerdy book perhaps, but O'Leary is an excellent writer, and these two books are a page turner.   For Bowie fans, this may be the book on the genius.   Later tonight I'm going out tonight to hear music. I'll be around.