Wednesday, October 20, 2010


IC434 and the Horsehead Nebula

The naked shimmer of starlight for eons unnoticed by Earthly inhabitants
Full of answers to history and origin waiting only for one to stand and say, I
For self awareness begs the question, I am here but why?
The naked eye cannot see the stars for the Garden
And so from the Garden we did come, and wrote it so inside The Book
'til some other I would question how, decide to take a closer look

The heavens swirled around us so, we the only thing we know
The centre of the universe, holding everything in tow
But what if that be not quite right, about the ever starry night?
The earth a slave to holy sun, the sun a star inverting night?
A speck upon a galaxy, floating on an immense sea
Life be more than you and I, the effect of possibility

This fantastic photo of the Horse Head Nebula courtesy of Terry Hancock at flikr

Three Word Wednesday offered these:  Effect, Immense, Shimmer

Friday, August 13, 2010

Like Dream Paralysis


The dream within a dream
Days within the weeks or so it seems
We sleep with our eyes open, walking
Leverage arms unto the air, more like water
Smiling at peers, we dirge waltz through snow drifts
Piling to our knees as they pirouette through sunlit pastures
Slow are the moments as time passes furiously around us
Who's charade is this?  O Lord, is this a joke or a test of my will?
The apothecary passes this for remedy, but it only staves the inevitable
Life, still sweet to savor, no longer here to gorge and quench, 
But to sip and peck 

 Three Word Wednesday offered these:  Joke, Leverage, Remedy

Photo courtesy of Bryan Brinkman Photography, find him at flikr

Friday, August 6, 2010

One Minute of Joy

You have 1 minute to hear what's new once the auto-player commences.  So pay attention!

"When the Music's Over", that is the title of this blog.  Which I began as a means of kick starting my creative writing.  Of course, there is much implied in the title.  This is quoting the great Jim Morrison's lyric, "...when the music's over, turn out the lights".  As in, when I can no longer make music, just shoot me.

There are certain challenges as an amateur.  The biggest being time.  I have a real job.  That is, one that takes up most of my time.  That was okay prior to having children, I had plenty of time to play in bands, rehearsals, gigs, write songs, or just sit on a porch stoop plucking away.  Being a proper father takes time.  So I stopped playing in bands for the most part, and took to recording in my basement in the evenings into the wee hours.

The other challenge is energy.  Creativity only comes from inspiration.  There's nothing inspiring about needing a nap.  Living with Addison's disease has really limited my energy.  Far more than I was expecting, as the doctors pretty much said, "take the steroids and you'll live a 'normal' life".  Bullshit!  It's a roller coaster.  A really slow roller coaster!  Pretty much, feel good for a few weeks then crap for a month or two.  So far anyway.  I'm still hopeful I can take full control of medicating my own symptoms.  Waiting for a doctor to push the right buttons is purgatory!  "Try this and see me in four months".  And when it doesn't work (it usually doesn't)  you've pissed away a whole season hoping these twits can get it right!

Enough bitching about my poker hand.  The bottom line is writing takes a lot less energy than producing recordings.  So I started this blog as a creative outlet.  It went swimmingly for a while, but the last six months I can't seem to get the first word out!  So now, I write.  I don't know how creative it is, but at least it's something.

I decided to take some time off this summer, and I started my vacation in the studio.  "One Minute of Joy" was the result.  I'm a musical doodler of sorts.  I can pick up all sorts of things and make some sort of rhythm or melody out of it.  What's new in this recording are a couple of things.  First, I have an old Melobar lap steel that I needed to convert from 10 strings to 6 strings, which I did.  You can hear it during the opening melody.  The second is, me playing a live drum kit.  It's nothing to write home about, but it keeps the bed made.

I figured this was just a segue to a couple weeks of musical productivity.  Trouble was, the month long heat wave in New Jersey really knocked me on my ass.  I've determined that I will never live in Texas again!  I used to gig in 105 degree heat, outdoors!  I would literally need an IV hooked up to me onstage these days to do that!  Maybe I'll move to Canada?

That's the news from Lake Woebegone.  I'll try to write sooner next time!

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Slow Black Death

How many more reasons do we need?
To wean ourselves from the acrid black tit of fossil fuel
The news of every dawn be full of dread
This festering shadow continue to spread
A mile of ocean down we drill
To feed our gluttonous appetite
Be it driving a tank for a quart of milk
Or filling the corporate pig trough

Can anyone grasp the depths of this sin?
Our leaders developed this energy "policy"
Behind closed doors and in harmony with the oil barrons
They send our sons and daughters to die in foreign lands
So these pigs can continue to profit from black heroin
They rape our planet so our children can live in a world 
Without beaches and birds, never having reason
To cast a net into the sea

How many more miners must die in the name of "clean" coal?
How many mountain tops leveled before we learn the value of a vista?
And yet they pacify the lobbyists and spurn the people
How many of us would choose a better way if given a choice?

Three Word Wednesday offered these:  Dead, Grasp, Pacify

Photo courtesy of waymjoh at Photobucket 

Friday, April 2, 2010

Good Friday

For 30 odd silver pieces had,
Judas gave Pilate, Jesus’ head
By Roman order he would be led
Upon a crucifix ‘til dead
A spray of thorns, his head adorns
Are sharper than a demons horns
The cross upon his back was worn
‘Neath sweat and blood his skin was torn
The road to Calvary was full
To view this gruesome spectacle
The Lamb of God would die for all
Upon Golgotha, Place of Skull

Notes:  A repost of "Good Friday".  Photo courtesy of Christopher Chan at flikr

Friday, March 26, 2010

A Sort of Letter

Three months of nothing to say.  From a creative standpoint at least.  The new year was full of hope and dedication.  Refocused on taking control of my well being, I spent much energy researching and implementing changes in my medical treatment.  

January began with the euphoria of feeling normal.  What could be so narcotic about normalcy?  After 3 years of feeling like crap you forget what it's like to go days on end not confronting roadblocks.  So my year began without the solitary peace of creative writing.  But with socializing and playing and performing music.  Those are two things that have been a staple of my adult life and were sorely missed.  And so I was beginning to think and plan on getting out and performing again.

By January's end, I was back on the rollercoaster.  Perhaps overconfident in my condition, I engaged and overindulged, in some late night revelry with neighbors.  This hangover should have had me on an IV in an ER.  But in my own shame and embarrassment I rode it out.  I haven't been the same since.

Febuary's blizzards and shut in darkness tends to meloncholy.  Add in the anvil of fatigue from Addisonian imbalance and you have an iceberg on the senses.  A common rhinovirus is to be expected this time of year.  But this manifested into some unexplained maelstrom that put me in the hospital for a full day of fruitless examinations. "All the tests came back normal, Mr. Orzek.  But we've determined you have a viral syndrome".  A what?

The weeks after, it became evident that the meds prior to "viral syndrome" weren't cutting it.  So it's been lower the meds, get sick for a few days, stress dose, lower the meds, get sick for a few days, stress dose ...etc., ad nauseum. Lots of nauseum.  It seems my adrenal glands have been beaten further into submission.  This progression is to be expected.  But there is no road map to getting there.

On March 9, I received a phone call that my father-in-law, Glenn MacKinnon, had died.  He and I were close.  As my own father has been dead 15 years now, Glenn has been my guiding role model through fatherhood and marriage.  I don't think I've realized his loss for me yet.  My wife has lost a father, my children their only grandfather.  My family's grief is obvious.  And overwhelming.  

But having his once or twice a year outreach will be noticed.  His hand on my shoulder, asking "so, how are YOU doing?"  That honest and open invitation to share my internal paternal frustrations or fears won't be there any more.  That is when it will hit me, I think.

Time marches on and life is for the living.  Enter any other cliches such as, get back on yer horse, that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger.  It's all true, however hollow it feels right now.

But I am still determined.  I will get myself right and enter this spring hopeful.  And carry forth with my loved ones into the warmth of our summers.