Gallo del CieloTom Russell wrote a song about a destitute young man named Carlos Saragosa who steals a prize-fighting rooster named Gallo del Cielo. As the story goes, Saragosa wagers his sister’s locket, trying to win enough money to buy back the land stolen from his father.
“The song is meant to be about Saragosa, his struggle, and his defeat, but when Ely sings it, you can tell that he’s not relating the protagonist. How could he relate to someone who is crushed after only one defeat? No, Ely isn’t Saragosa. He’s the rooster, Gallo Del Cielo. You won’t see him giving up, he’ll fight until he no longer can, and whether it’s his heart that gives out or his fingers, it sure…
Mr. V (James Vaughn) of Mr. & Mrs. V on Houston’s 90.1, KPFT — HDR Image by kenne
Mike Durbin of the Moe Hansum Band — Image by kenne
The Houston Blues community is feeling the pain. Two of the communities well known personallities past away this past week. To hornor the memory of these Houston friends, I’m sharing a Diunna Greenleaf video I posted several years ago — Growing Up and Growing Old in the Fellowship of Family and Friends.
With the sun rising over the Rincon Mountains, east of Tucson in the Saguaro National Park,
The Monday Morning Milers begin hiking the Wildhorse Trail in a chilly 32 degree fall morning.
The Wildhorse Trail is very dusty from no rain in several months.
The desert grasses glow from the morning sun.
The trail leads toward one of the canyons along the Wildhorse Trail.
The park, named after the beautiful giant saguaro cactus, is occasionally graced by the rear crested saguaro cactus.
The saguaro cactus are rarely found in groups, such as this group of twelve 20 to 70-year-old saguaros.
Images by kenne
Long after death, the ribs of saguaro remain standing, a shadow of its live self.
Hiking In The Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
These regal, sky islands exist, unique, and vast, unmatched diversity raising summits a sun sparkling through the canyon guiding hikers to conquests we aspire.
Life events are conspiring again to keep me out of my studio space to record new pieces — but it just so happens that I have this rocking Blues recorded back in 2007 with the LYL Band that’ll contrast with our pensive Frost meditation on work from last time. Today’s audio piece was made from Frost’s short poem titled “Fragmentary Blue,” now recast as “Fragmentary Blues.”
Unlike Carl Sandburg or Langston Hughes, I have no idea if the 1914 vintage Robert Frost had any experience or appreciation of this Afro-American musical form. A quick search found nothing, even though Frost’s lifetime overrode The Jazz Age, The Swing Era, and even early rock’n’roll.
But as poet Langston Hughes soon discovered, the lyrical expression of the Blues was a vital format worth picking up. A first draft of this post included a long aside about the importance of this Afro-American…
Amazon Rainforest Sunset (August 2019) — Image by kenne
Spending time on the river walking its banks, seeing the variety of wildlife, that lingers there, makes for beautiful paintings and photographs, for people to admire.
Morning Shadows In The Sonoran Desert — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Yes, the sun has risen again. I can see the windows change and hear a dog barking. The wind buckles the slender top of the alder, the conversation of night birds hushes, and I can hear my heart regular and strong. I will live to see the day end as I lived to see the earth turn molten and white, then to metal, then to whatever shape we stamped into it as we laughed the long night hours away or sang how the eagle flies on Friday. When Friday came, the early hours perfect and cold, we cursed our only lives and passed the bottle back and forth.
Originally posted April 2011 on Becoming is Superior to Being. — kenne
“The only thing we can perceive are our perceptions. In other words, consciousness is the matrix upon which
the cosmos is apprehended. Color, sound, temperature, and the like exist only as perceptions in our head,
not as absolute essences. In the broadest sense, we cannot be sure of an outside universe at all.” — George Berkeley
Artist Along Sabino Creek In Sabino Canyon, April, 2011 — Image by kenne
Water
Pressure of sun on the rockslide Whirled me in dizzy hop-and-step descent, Pool of pebbles buzzed in a Juniper shadow, Tiny tongue of a this-year rattlesnake flicked, I leaped, laughing for little boulder-color coil– Pounded by heat raced down the slabs to the creek Deep tumbling under arching walls and stuck Whole head and shoulders in the water: Stretched full on cobble–ears roaring Eyes open aching from the cold and faced a trout.
The poem originally appeared Riprap, which was Snyder’s first book of poetry. For Snyder, nature as divine, which goes hand-in-hand with the biocentric nature of his Buddhist beliefs.
![Just the two of us [Explore]](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51717261941_7f61911f62_s.jpg "Just the two of us [Explore]")
Becoming is Superior to Being 