". . . But the past does not exist independently from the present. Indeed, the past is only past because there is a present, just as I can point to something over there only because I am here. But nothing is inherently over there or here. In that sense, the past has no content. The past -- or more accurately, pastness -- is a position. Thus, in no way can we identify the past as past." p. 15

". . . But we may want to keep in mind that deeds and words are not as distinguishable as often we presume. History does not belong only to its narrators, professional or amateur. While some of us debate what history is or was, others take it into their own hands." p. 153

Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History (1995) by Michel-Rolph Trouillot

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

"Kiss You Down South" 3

He laid down 30 songs in a marathon three and half hours last night -- without the click. Got home at two in the AM, wired as jack.  Listened down this morning.  Decided he needed to do it again, with click.  It felt too rushed, to him. Also broke two nails, so a visit to the Vietnamese nail place on Canal was in order today.

But is it too rushed?  PG and I discuss this.  It sounds with all the passionate intensity of his concert delivery without the click.  So ... well, PG agrees, that yes, some of the songs might be better with the click, but some without.  The wonders of digital editing and mixing, you can have them both.  They are re-recording and cutting both, now.

Last night Mz Minneola KittyKat Empress of the Universe spent a lot of time with me, talking and purring.  All fine.

But the night rolled on. And on.  No TR ....

After el V and I went to bed she cried for a while.

When I came down this morning she was curled in her hidey corner in the dining room behind the big chair.  She wouldn't even open her eyes.  She was a furry bundle of rejected, abandoned feline misery.

I talked to her for a while.  She wouldn't look at me.  Unlike usually, she'd eaten all the food in her bowl.

After I made tea and read a while, she came out of her corner and sat looking at me from a distance.  I got a can of her food and talked to her.  She came close.  I petted her a little bit.  Opened the food.  She ate, and then asked for tummy stroking.  So I guess things will be fine.  She has decided that el V is a monster though.

Ooofta it is hot and humid here.  I got mesmerized later in the afternoon by the tossing palms and ferns and the magnolia trees around TR's house.  Like Mz M. I just sat and stared fixedly at the botantical creatures morphing and transforming, yet staying themselves.  It's a lot of fun working in that big kitchen. It's a preview maybe of what it will be like in the Chestertown House. It's just lovely, really.


K. said...

Food always works. Remember the "See me feel me touch me heal me" anthem from The Who's Tommy? I've rewritten for cats, as follows:

Feed me
Feeeed me-ee-e-e-ee
Feed me
Feeed meeeeeee

I call it the Cat Anthem.

BTW, our cat's names have been Tammany, Shadow, Sally (after the Pogues song "Sally McLenane"), and Marley. Sally and Marley currently reside with us.

Foxessa said...

Food and tummy strokings work every time. And some talking.

She's a self-sufficient cat. Feed her, be decent to her, give her a bit of attention when she asks for it, and that's all. I like her very much.

Love, C.