¡Que Cara!

In 1960 there were still plenty of us who wanted to live in Greenwich Village.  The heydays were long gone, but the aura still hung around.  The Café Bizarre was just catching on. The Figaro still had wind quintets or string quartets live on Sunday morning, men with heavy sweaters and horn rims reading the fat Sunday Times at tables the size of a dinner plate.  There were still pushcarts with vegetables and fruits on Bleecker Street.  The Aurora Italian restaurant was still affordable, the waiters still had Neapolitan accents.  Chess in Washington Square.  A tuba and piccolo duet by the fountain. Painters showing their stuff alongside the church.

Mari and I found an apartment on Gay Street.  Continue reading “¡Que Cara!”

The Liberator

Yves sat fuming at a corner table in Las Palmeras.  His scowl did not invite you to so much as say hello.  He stared at the empty coffee cup, thinking so hard you could almost hear his thoughts.  If you had, and you understood French, you might not want to hear those thoughts.

Yves’ restaurant, with Monique at far right

Two days had passed since his wife had walked out with a painter and sculptor named Fuchs.  Almost everyone in the village knew it was happening before it happened, and everyone knew it had happened before Yves knew it.  That’s where his thoughts were at the moment.  Continue reading “The Liberator”

Patrick’s 2012 Travel Challenges

Patrick visited the U.S. in the fall of 2012. During his last stop before heading home to Spain, I met with him at LAX, where we had a nice lunch at The Encounter (the spaceship looking restaurant at the airport), caught a movie, had a nice dinner, and made this recording.

Because the recording is almost 20 minutes long, it doesn’t fit in WordPress, so I made a YouTube video out of it, along with pictures taken from that trip.

A Dream (Feb 1985)

Beginning in the late 1970s I would sometimes record my dreams instead of writing them down.

Here’s one that starred Patrick and my mom. Unless there’s specific interest, I won’t bother posting the audio file. It’s from February 1985, six years after he and last saw one another and over a year before my first visit to Spain.

February 15, 1985, [my sister] Heather’s 18th birthday. I dreamed that somehow Patrick came to visit us. I was with my mom.

He was getting ready to travel on, so I said, “Hey, look, all we have to do is just gather up all this stuff and put it in boxes.” We went through and took all these things off the shelves in this big house. We stripped everything off the shelves and made the place look real neat and tidy.

My mom came home and said, “Neat, we’re all set to go somewhere I guess.”

We had all this stuff and the house was nice and neat and so on. Still, Pat didn’t want to… he decided he didn’t want to come with us .

I said “Look, now that everything everything is the way you like it, why don’t you stay?”

He just stood outside and hitched a ride with a truck, a big semi.

Then after that, my mom, my sisters and I went out and found this house out in the country. I was riding my motorcycle, Avatar, and there was a dirty, muddy path. I wasn’t sure I wanted to take the bike out there. I was a little bit nervous about dumping it. I remember I had some problems getting the bike up to the parking space.

14 December (Poem by Stephanie)

Stephanie’s brother Tate sent this poem to me to share on the site. You can see the handwritten version more clearly by clicking on the images, but the copies are faded so it’s typed here as well. 

Page 1

Nobody, nobody at all
is going to care
when I die.

My brother and I were our mother’s
legacy to the world.
My father left his papers and letters to fill
in the gaps of what I know of him and what I didn’t.

I have a son alive somewhere in the world
a son I gave up for adoption
when I was nineteen and he was born a 9-month baby in the 9th
month of the year 1960

I as a child–mother gave up my
responsibility for his life.

Page 2

Where is he now?
Is he well – happy?

Nobody, nobody at all
is going to care
when I die.

No child of mine
will want to hold dear
the moments of my life.

My son – adopted
living where – how
will ever know me.

No one, no one at all
is going to care
how I lived and died.

My soul, my soul’s life
had himself made sterile.
We will have no child.

When I die
no one at all
is going to care.

Transcription Added for Message to Grandkids

Patrick’s Message to Grand Kids and Much More was posted quite a while ago as a YouTube video so you could hear the audio. (It doesn’t fit on a WordPress site.) It’s a long conversation from November 2011 when I visited him in Deia.

Lee suggested I get it transcribed. I poked around my computer a bit and discovered that I’d had it done back in 2012, so I’ve added the transcription to that page.

Since the recording is 40 minutes long, it’ll take you some time to read through it all. Enjoy!

Loving

In addition to Circles, Patrick, Stephanie, and Phil accompanied Lady June in this recording of Loving. Much of this recording is a Lady June poetry recitation, and the audio quality is on the somewhat abysmal side, but perhaps you’ll enjoy the pictures I put to the recording. (Many are re-used from the Circles video.)

Patrick, sent this recording to me on 22 Jan 2014 with the following description.

Continue reading “Loving”

He Was Committed to Our Orchestra

I received this kind note yesterday. I’m posting it here with his permission.

My name is Steve Benne and I just heard about your father’s death through your automated reply to email messages addressed to him.

I wanted to thank you for that.

I first met your father when I was in my mid-twenties (1988-90) and playing bass with the New American Chamber Orchestra. He was our Spanish management and was committed to our orchestra. He had us play in his festival in Deia and got us a residence in Granada.

He spent a lot of time with the orchestra and eventually had me out to his place in Deia.

I’ve been in touch with him off and on over the years and saw him when he came to the States in 2015 (I think) and was staying with your sister in Maryville, TN.

Again, thank you and my condolences on your loss.