Music
Thoughts on Music...
A Color by Letter Wonderland
2025.04.02
Wednesday, April 02, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
How’s the day? O/
Spring fun in the sun?
Work to be done?
Call it fun, get it done, and call it won.
Hope you’re well.
On with our show...
...
What about the place in between?
That space of time from a word set down to that word read.
Do you think these words placed in this place are like seeds in The Earth?
Did they sprout yet?
When you read them are they flowers or only stems?
Full bloom or just pressing through the dirt, their whole life to live?
Perhaps the stage of each word set down depends on the reflection you see.
Can you see the whole tree?
Just a sapling?
I’ve got forests for sentences; whole cities burst to life in each paragraph.
Do you read my intention with your attention?
It’s your expression of my impression you ingest as you read.
I wonder how you read me… what do you see?
I paint as clear an image of each moment as I can.
But my words are a color by letter wonderland for your paint, your brushstroke dreams.
We paint our days with the memories of the colors we see.
Red for me is not red for you.
For the whole spectrum this is true.
My words are the expressions of the colors I sense.
So are yours.
Our imaginations live and breathe and feast on rainbows.
Perhaps one day you’ll share your painting of The World with me.
Because your color red will never look exactly like mine makes the meaning and purpose of Art.
We can never measure the value of color, only experience it and share that experience.
You see and hear (music has color, too) your own color show and call it Life.
You ought to share it sometime.
Take care, realize you paint the air with every sound and stare of every word you choose, see your life is your masterpiece awaiting its weave, weave away and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Shakespeare Wrote Rap
2025.03.13
Thursday, March 13, 2025
Good morning that wonderful way.
No rush. Yawn. Stretch. Say hello. O/
And away we go…
On with our show...
...
The idea is comfort.
A well-known author said something like: “Sit down and write; the conditions are never perfect.”
Well said.
Perfect leaves out room for growth and interpretation.
In Life, perfect doesn’t exist.
Perhaps Heavenly perfection does, but that’s for Heaven’s sake absent of Life.
Best to leave the idea of perfection to the sky and best express what it is you wish to convey with generous sincerity.
Some days I go into writing about writing first.
We ought to write about what we love, so it’s always a safe place to start.
Two strong rules for writing:
- Be Clear.
- Only write something you’d like to read.
...
Our literature will start to match the structure of a text message the further we move from a race that uses speech as our first means of communication to one that favors the written first.
Check your text message history for further proof.
Your elementary school teacher would freak if she saw your use of (or lack of) grammar there.
Start using commas, colons and perfunctory periods in your text messages though, and your best friend would freak.
Stuffy Stuffy Grammar Gals will shake their heads and sulk at this, but it's necessary for a language to grow to stay alive.
So deal Gals.
Our use of words must grow if we’re to grow as a race.
So deal Gals.
Olde English doth not a sentence make these days.
...
Shakespeare requires a translator these days.
Back in his day his plays were a rap song’s version of Epic Greek Stories.
Really.
Going to The Globe Theatre back in The Bard’s time was the equivalent of going to a rap concert these days.
Shakespeare’s band was the most popular show.
There was drinking, brawls, and shouting during each performance from the audience.
There even was a whole section of the theatre called The Vomitorium.
If you ever wondered where the phrase, “I’m going to vomit” comes from, now you know.
It’s a destination, like "I’m going to the bathroom."
You say that to your friend, and they understand you’re going to pee and not just randomly walk to the bathroom.
Likewise, back in the Olde English Theatre you told your drunk concert buddy, “I’m going to Vomit.”
A place and a purpose.
Well… sometimes the morning journal takes unexpected twists.
Seriously though, Shakespeare wrote rap; it’s why it’s all in poetic verse.
People don't speak like that.
We rap like that.
...
Still an hour till sunrise here.
Abe’s in a deep sleep on the loveseat.
Take care, share your words in iambic style or a rap song way,
Use tolerance if you drink, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Hitting Hi-hats in Their Sleep
2025.02.05
February 05, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ Hello.
How are you?
Still alive, I see.
As I’m +he Ghos+ that’s debatable here.
Either way, let’s enjoy the day.
Away we go, on with the show.
...
One, two, one, two, three, four.
This entry is in 4/4 time. Keep up.
Standard rock and roll beat.
No club steppin’ drum machine here.
A veteran percussion specialist, at it so long, hitting hi-hats in their sleep.
Sun’s up soft, a little lavender rouge powder professionally placed by some celestial cosmetician for the stars.
The fiery floating orbs making galaxies kind, not the Hollywood type.
The deep thoughts on dreams the past couple posts turn to descriptive depictions of the sky.
Maybe the neighbor’s roof, their chimney topped with a hi-hat to keep it exit only.
New England winter: Been there. Done That. Got the flannel.
Shorter entry today; going to look at the sky; put other words in other places; semi-colons sky high hi-hats float by...
Take care, read a book or a text message, figure out what you think about the sky, and have that better day.
+he Ghos+
The Band Name
2025.01.12
January 12, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
How's your day?
Good sleep here. Slept in.
An Abe pace the floor,
"You waking up yet? There's food in the kitchen; the Sun's coming up,"
...morning.
Up.
...
- Find work you love.
- Stay true to it.
- Have a couple close friends that respect you for it.
- And one to share space, and time, and Love with.
Recipe for a good life. ^
The Sun's already showing. There's a full dog stomach on the loveseat.
A blue jay or crow caw too far in the distance to distinguish.
A couple years ago I realized I hear the same songs every morning and don't know the band names, so I started learning the names of the birds singing the songs.
"There's gotta be an app for that."
There's an app for that.
A few.
Maybe you'll try it too.
How dismissive of you to hear the same tracks every morning and not look up the band names.
This site's a kind of bird's song. A herald for the morning!
There are ways for everyone to enjoy getting their daily dose of language.
Take care, fly in the air, write with care, rock your roll flair, and have your better day.
+he Ghos+
A Secret Song
2025.01.08
2025.01.08
Good morning, that wonderful way.
"Time."
What a thing to say to someone just waking up....
That's a good alarm clock that replaces its buzz with the word time. Over and over and still (!) over again.
Throw that one against the wall and back to sleep, but only after you check the screen to check the time, time, time (!).
How are you?
Everything in order yet?
Ducks in a row?
Well, then, away we go.
Sunrise, daydreams, thoughts of you. Another morning in the mind of Wynn.
"Uh-oh. He's finally started referring to himself in the third person. Guru incoming."
- Concerned Reader
"Oh, relax. Wynn would never be so trite. There are much more artistically inclined ways to share his dreams."
- Agreeable Wynn
On with the show...
...
A couple hours before sunrise. Loveseated dog fed, still words to be said.
Is this working for you?
This whole morning journal business?
Still reading?
Thank you.
I don't know what I expected when I started.
Just a: "I'll store my morning journal on this blog, too."
Pictures work wonderfully with poetry, we'll get some on the site soon. Like when poets picked up guitars and turned rock and roll into an anthology of American Poetry.
See? It's medicine for your dreams.
Driving down the street to the beat of your favorite popular song. Don't sing the lyrics wrong!
What's said there helps define your dreams, gives you a new way to express yourself, a new way to expand the story called 'You'.
If you ever want to know what poetry is for press play on your favorite song with lyrics. Even if you just like the beat, you're reading metric verse.
The melody and arrangement of instruments and harmony are an extra tool to convey the message.
Words and rhythm are the only tools of a poet's craft.
Some might say it's more difficult to paint a picture with only words.
There's some truth to that, but it's only a different medium.
It's the audience that matters; it's how you take your music.
The potential for a closer internal relationship is there with only words.
The head voice we use to read is how we define our lives, how we make our days.
Poetry said is music out loud; poetry read is a secret song for your internal ears only.
There's not enough of it in our world.
When we share our dreams with words only, we find out we're not alone.
Touch can only do so much. But there is another kind of touch: Dream to dream.
Remember as you go through your day everyone you see is experiencing what you are now reading this. Making sense of their lives and what they sense with words.
Some, so many, so sadly, lately, keep that conversation, that self-story silently told, overly simple, rehashed echoes of other people's ideas of what is best for them.
What a shame.
Others can help you care for what you can feel; your heart beats similarly to theirs.
Your metaphorical heart sung to you by that great voice within you call yourself, can only be shaped by your own choice of how you shape your dream of life.
Your tools to do this are the words you speak when you speak silently to yourself.
Science can't measure you a right way to shape your dreams because science is a shaped dream shared.
Math is its language.
Options to the weather is all it can ever give us.
How we speak to ourselves, how we tell ourselves the story of ourselves, always determines what life actually means. How we dream our days is always the best hope we have for how well we can spend our days.
Take care of the weather called your body with science, save your actual self, the one who dreams, with music, brushstrokes and words, keep in mind everyone is doing the same, and have your better, share your better day.