HEAR THE WIND (GENE CLARK)

Look around little darling 

Do you know who I am

I'm as much your reflection 

As I am my own man

You need not to defend love 

Life's the house where we live

We cannot see tomorrow 

Only feel what we give

We talk and hear about loneliness

The cold blue hunger of the soul

But if this world has redemptiveness

Why ever should we be somewhere

Where there's nowhere to go?

  

Gene Clark: Hear The Wind (Link)

Gene Clark: Hear The Wind (Nashville Now Link) 

Gene Clark and Carla Olson: Almost Saturday Night (Link)

These photographs were taken eight or nine years ago during early or late winter, I can’t remember, in Malvern, Pennsylvania.  We were looking for houses then and this was at the property we thought seriously of buying on Warren Avenue.  It was a lovely place, but oddly designed (too small rooms, too few bookshelves, but a veterinarian-style chamber for showering your dogs and professional “working garage” space).   The next-door neighbor was our local celebrity M. Night Shyamalan, who I think had The Sixth Sense and Signs under his belt then.  It was cold and the wind was blowing, but nothing like it is now outside the window behind my back.   The snow is hanging around frozen and more, apparently, will be arriving tomorrow or Monday when I need to drive Jane down to Washington to participate in a rather interesting program.  Gene Clark suits my mood and these images like no other.

ALMOST SATURDAY NIGHT -- HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Re-viewing this photograph of Kevin preparing paella at home at 7 Es Clot, Deya, reminds me of so many things.

It’s obviously not the world’s best shot -- it would be nice to see the subject’s face clearly, although the outline of a smile and beginning of a low laugh are evident – but I think it captures Kevin’s very accomplished and natural cooking movements and style.

Kevin's paella was marvelous, among the very best I’ve ever had, and so much better than the mediocre restaurant preparations which are almost universal outside of Spain.  I myself eventually learned to make a creditable paella, but it wasn’t nearly as good as Kevin’s.  And obviously the Balaeric al fresco atmosphere you see here can’t be beat.

The picture re-summons cooking memories (there are many) of Kevin and stirs related brain-drifts.  Many depressive types I've known became excellent cooks and hosts because, apart from being useful and interesting pastimes, preparing and serving your fellow man fine and fitting food and drink is a great way to chase the blues away.   

Most depressives (I am one) passionately want to feel happiness, to laugh, and to share joy with others. There’s no better way to do this than through cooking-borne hospitality.  The rest of the time we do prefer to be left alone to think.

Happy birthday, Kevin.  I wish we could be with you and Ollie in Deya today for the celebration of your life, but Jane’s engaged in some school tasks I think you'd find interesting and I’m trying to figure out which way is up.

We will be joining you there again very soon.

Gene Clark and Carla Olson: Almost Saturday Night (Link)