Klezmer as an Influence in Writing Amongst ...

Last week I must say I wrote a fantastic blog on my love and effects of klezmer, creativity, expression, communication, writing, art, music, cultures enrichening the world, other cultures, finding home. (Unfortunately thru posting it, some such error occurred and was "lost.") The home business? So to speak? I've lived for a night in a cave in the southwestern U.S., a few times on the "streets of New York"/highway (near a climbing area, not at all as bad as it sounds-Camp Slime), and at various times. So? I felt at home, however many hours than the actual geographic home I have, have had, and what about klezmer w/ this? Klezmer to me brings me home especially when I am up to my high standard par, endurance of the hands. As we get older? Endurance gets better. Like French women becoming more beautiful as they age, so to play I have that mindset, violin in hand and anywhere where I want/and don't want to be... I am home. Klezmer feels like home. Thought, mood, focus, conscious, subconscious playing, free from "the Resistance." The first time I cerebrally worked out and as well by ear a klezmer phrase, the gypsy scales and by feeling, mood, reworking, engraining the phrases, gypsy scales, freedom of the gypsy life, the stories my mother told me about the neighbor's farm, the Transylvanians, displaced, I wondered how, where it came from? Who knows really? Despite the strength of the "Melting Pot" mentality w/ its stripping of one's heritage and culture, where/when one's mother tongue was forbidden in public, I saved the will to seek out this music that to me felt this business of a wandering home mentality, by the sound, like Yiddish for the Jewish people, the language that saved many Jews lives, the Yiddish folk music, klezmer preserves lives. This has gone a bit off last week's path somewhat. Nevertheless this; Dancing w/ fiddle and a diaspora and gypsy scale, focusing "in the window." That is being alive.

The main focus of this work is that w/ the idea of what one has as a touchstone, something to feel well-grounded and home, where and ever one wanders ... this is it. What is your construct that you associate w/? What are you attached to? What gives you that warm, fuzzy feeling, of belonging, the sense of a celebration of being human. Now stick a fiddle in his/her hands, a guitar, a clarinet, sit at the piano, maybe a cello, ... ah, here it is writers, the computer's keyboard is the medium for the works that captures the feeling of the warm heart, that we are people, human beings, and in how many mediums does one dance in, to celebrate the life, the joy of life, the joy of each one's "Yiddish folk music."

I love many forms of expression, art-vis, oils, inks, w.c., music, writing. My biggest hope relied on writing. I have off and on read large amounts, deep amounts, distributed lit that I needed for that part of my walking, progressing thru this experience known as life. A computer could be had for $300, some paper, time, and one is set. It is the thoughts/moods that play a part as source however true, a source that as its nature is to create. Like it is said, "G_d loved stories so much he created Man. And before that it is believed in the Jewish faith that the Hebrew alphabet, alefbaiz w/ its 22 characters was the first construct to be created by G_d, Blessed Be He in the genesis, the beginning. I hold as an ace up my sleeve for kibbitzing that time was the first creation, "In the beginning" connoting or denoting a sense, a presence of time in the creation, besides the Void of Form. Anyway what am I getting at as a tool for writing?

I would say that in my tool box for writing, what can be a fairly inexpensive course to sail, id est, writing as a choice for expression (add color for wealth, even w/ B/W on the paper, an old Chinese brush painting tool; to add wealth add color.) where expression in the time frame, the frame work, the work of one's life for many writers, finding one's right livelihood of sorts although not perhaps preferable to be the day job, one cuts thru the fog of distraction, bringing home the clarity, the lucidity where one bravely exposes one's heart guided by the "muse" klezmer, be-bop, Kandinskii, Picasso, Matisse, Nabokov, B.E. Ellis Coupland, one's own song, a facet of diamond is the side of the anti-countercounter culture, something that I have stood for off and on and covertly for quite some time, democratic socialism, nonconformity, the neo-hippy, product-seeking over consumer mind ... to find one's meaningful activity meaning one's contribution to the world, the meaning of one's "one" life perhaps, in being in this world, heterodoxy, diversification for practicing acceptance and color and wealth in many forms in this world, in understanding fellow Man. W/ purpose one can withstand one's personal Holocaust that much better, maybe survive it, the forced labor for power and control's sake, the stripping of one's dignity, the stripping of one's human rights, the stripping of one's laws and beliefs, being the subject of medical experimentation, the loss of "home," a home country, the loss of freedom(s) and/or the threats of loss. What about writing? Ideas are the root of change, accepting a change to be needed in one's mind, in then expression. And here is where writing steps in. A long time coming? "A long time gone." CSNY. The time before the next dawn may be a long time. Bob Dylan, "He who is not busy being be born, is busy dying."