everyone's entitled to my opinion
 Most recent novel |
Visit the MESSAGE BOARDS Where everyone knows how sleep-deprived you are |
 Short crime musical with armed thugs in drag |
 Short screen opera about God, with funny parts |
Father of twins and novelist/filmmaker/musician
in New York on the
Upper Upper Upper Upper
Upper West Side.
People complain about musicals.
Nobody just stops in the street
I say you know the wrong people.
They say:
and breaks into song.
The world gets more mundane
The best thing he taught me about understanding new art is to assume the artist isn't trying to put one over on you--to go in open-minded.
My favorite mental image of him is screaming into a microphone at a trade show, to test Atau Tanaka's digital emulation of a tube amplifier.
My favorite collaboration with him was a Cosmic Debris improv. He liked it too. The MP3 file of A Small, Out-of-the-Way Café was slightly too big for the Cosmic Debris' soundclick.com page, but I've posted it here. I'm playing the marimba sound; RZ's mangling it digitally; Blake's making up the story as he goes.
Richard Zvonar, my friend and bandmate. Born 1940-something. Died today.
My favorite mental image of him is screaming into a microphone at a trade show, to test Atau Tanaka's digital emulation of a tube amplifier.
My favorite collaboration with him was a Cosmic Debris improv. He liked it too. The MP3 file of A Small, Out-of-the-Way Café was slightly too big for the Cosmic Debris' soundclick.com page, but I've posted it here. I'm playing the marimba sound; RZ's mangling it digitally; Blake's making up the story as he goes.
Richard Zvonar, my friend and bandmate. Born 1940-something. Died today.
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