Nuff Said. Carl Perkins, Eric Clapton and Ringo Star.

These cats, early on in their career, felt like this.
Carl (ahem) Mr. Perkins was the one to bring it to light. Blind Lemon Jefferson wrote it, Carl (ahem Mr. Perkins) made it famous, due to his father's encouragement.
We are all better for that father/son bonding on that day.

What the Hell? Mystery Train

Ok now that we have our spelling and philosophy lessons covered,

let’s put joking aside and return to the lesson of Art.

In this case, the Art of Photography and Music developed in the soup of notes torn from word butchers pages.

Part of the Art lesson is another photograph from the Drum Circle.

Part of the Art

Of the lesson

Is hearing the craft of Scotty Moore,

With Eric Clapton, rhythm and vocals.

It all becomes a train.
It takes a lot to laugh.

What Fresh Hell? Drum Circle 9/26/10

Juxtaposition.

One can not place any to things in proximity without changing the meaning of both.
I said that.

Drumming with Lights after the rain began.

The song is offered up to Mother Earth on this the Solstice of 2010.

What Fresh Hell?

No hell, just a fresh breeze, I keep movin' down the road.

just a piece.
where they sell chicken fried in bacon fat. Yeah buddy.
Clove cigs, and rollin' tobacco.
but I digress
Just a breeze, blowin' through.




(J.J. Cale)
Call me the breeze
I keep blowin' down the road
Well now, they call me the breeze
I keep blowin' down the road
I ain't got me nobody
I don't carry me no load
Ain't no change in the weather
Ain't no changes in me
Well, there ain't no change in the weather
Ain't no changes in me
And I ain't hidin' from nobody
Nobody's hidin' from me
Oh, that's the way its supposed to be
Well, I got that green light, baby
I got to keep movin' on
Well, I got that green light, baby
I got to keep movin' on
Well, I might go out to California
Might go down to Georgia,
I don't knowWell,
I dig you Georgia peaches
Makes me feel right at home
Well now, I dig you Georgia peaches
Makes me feel right at home
But I don't love me no one woman
So I can't stay in Georgia long
Well now, they call me the breeze
I keep blowin' down the road
Well now, they call me the breeze
I keep blowin' down the road
I ain't got me nobody
I don't carry me no load

Ooh, Mr. Breeze