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I saw Neil Young in concert/In the early 70s/With his jeans less jeans than patches/And he played a guitar with a triangular body/And some drunk girl kept yelling for “Down By the River”/And he never played “Down By the River”/But he did play “After the Gold Rush”/And I did crappy sketches of him with a felt-tip pen

I saw him again at the State Fair/When he played with the Blue Notes/And they did “Ten Men Working”/And he did “Married Man”

But Neil got real one year/when he had his head examined/And found an aneurysm/And scheduled an operation/With quite a risk involved/And he performed beforehand/As if for the last time/And sounded like an angel/The one who wrestled Jacob

Neil was real all along/Drew envy from Bob Dylan/For singing “Heart of Gold”/And now he is the husband/Of real Daryl Hannah/And that just goes to show you/That Real goes every whichway

And, Neil, if you read this/Thanks for that “Harvest Moon”/And “Rockin’ In the Free World”/And “Thrashers” and “Some Day”/And “Birds” and many others

You gave a kid some thoughtfood/You give a geezer music/And like your “Old Man” I/Might be a lot like you

I was hoping to get this piece done by midnight. I am eleven hours early, having rushed its completion, just as I said I DIDN’T want to do (see my previous post, “Throes of Creation”). But that’s a good thing, as I will explain.

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Behind the “finished” page is the copy on which I thrashed out the penultimate draft. The missing lines of the acrostic are written wraparound-style outside the right and top page borders.
****
Here Are the Elsewheres

HOPEWARD bound, on wings of raging Flame
Endless Void the Heaven, Sol the Hell
Righteousnesses seem like voodoo games
Empathy the Childe of Beast & Belle
A
ngst, Begone. Come Progress swift AND slow
RENT from shackling History’s catarrh
Emphasis on Health from head to toe
Then comes TRAVEL meaning-full and far
HOPE is Blissful Silence–just ask these
E
verlasting Peacefulness agrees
****
So here, Friends, is a poem in Trochaic Pentameter, ababcdcdee rhyme scheme, all but one pair of lines perfect rhymes, and that one pair of lines varying merely by the difference between Singular and Plural. I am proud. It is a sort of sequel to the decades-old song “After the Gold Rush” by proud “Canarican” (as of January of this year!) Neil Young, which includes the last stanza

Well, I dreamed I saw the silver spaceship flying
In the yellow haze of the sun.
There were children crying and colours flying
All around the chosen one
All in a dream, all in a dream
The loading had begun…
Flying Mother Nature’s silver seed
To a new home in the sun.
Flying Mother Nature’s silver seed
To a new home…

Tomorrow, April 22, 2020, is the 50th Anniversary of Earth Day. Neil’s song, and his album of the same name (the lovely word eponymous means “of the same name”) were recorded that same year. So here’s to Neil Young, and also to Dennis Hopper, whose movie The Last Movie (a “follow-up to Easy Rider” according to rock historian Nick Hasted) inspired Mr. Young to write “After the Gold Rush.”

So–why the rush job? I promised an explanation. See, if you look at the drawing/illustration, the middle lines of the poem seem most hastily placed. They are. Two reasons. A, the faster you skate across the (Stonehenge White, thick, super-absorbent) paper with a (Pilot PRECISE V5 Ultra Fine Rolling Ball) pen, the fainter the penstroke appears to the eye, and I wanted to have my cake and eat it too as far as shape-repetition of the floating rectangle-with-cutout was concerned. B) This drawing is a Qualifier, meaning that I deem it worthy of the time and trouble it will take to use it as the basis of a large-scale painting.

Now it’s time to talk, briefly and glowingly, about my ex-wife, Joni.

A couple of months ago Joni was cleaning house, and she had decided that it was a shame that the art supplies she’d acquired during her time of journaling and other creative expression were going fallow. She asked me if I knew of someone who could put them to good use. I nominated myself. And Joni, bless her sweet soul, not only gave me a boatload of art supplies, including a COMPLETE, UNUSED set of acrylic paints, and a FIVE-DRAWER CABINET containing all manner of other media, but she also HELPED ME PUT THEM IN MY APARTMENT. She has not let the dissolution of our marriage interfere with the kindness and compassion she extends to a fellow Creative. But since my acquisition of these fine supplies, I have made sparse use of them–some sculptural enhancement here, some sketching on a pad there. Now–and I will devote Earth Day (and probably beyond) to this endeavor–I will use the paints and brushes she endowed me with to make a more fully realized version of this page.

 

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These are two birds I sculpted yesterday.

And here are some lines sculpted by Neil Young long ago, for his song “Birds”:

Lover, there will be another one
Who’ll hover over you beneath the Sun
Tomorrow, see the things that never come
Today…

It is an oblique, haunting song about separation. In the subtext is the notion that the one being abandoned will be, ultimately, better off. The phrase “It’s over” occurs four times.

I wasn’t thinking of “Birds” when I did these, but it occurs to me that these two may be best off as friends.

In the early 70s I was a huge fan both of the comic book then called DAREDEVIL–The Man Without Fear! and of Neil Young. Not long after Neil’s album AFTER THE GOLD RUSH came out, and I had played it about 50 times (not exaggerating), I conceived a four-panel sequence for Daredevil, using lyrics from Neil’s song “Don’t Let It Bring You Down.” Gene Colan, penciler for Daredevil, would be the perfect illustrator of this sequence–his night scenes were superb. I wish mightily that I had written to the letters column “Let’s Level with Daredevil” and described my sequence.

Forty-odd years later, that stuff is still in my head, and, while I am no Gene Colan, I am a lot better at turning the sight in my mind’s eye to an image on paper. With an hour to go till the midnight Inktober deadline, I had finished the first two panels of my sequence. (I say “finished,” but what I have done is at best a “concept rough.” It would take two hours per panel to do a good job on the sequence.)

I do not have time to obtain permission from either Marvel Comics or Neil Young to use their intellectual property; but I come from a family of outlaws, so I will tip my hat to those two creative forces, NOT use my artwork on this post for commercial use, and hope that some find day I get the appropriate permissions, finish the page, and thrill my early-teen self with the result.

Neil’s lyrics to be illustrated, line by line:

Blind man running through the light of the night with an answer in his hand
Come on down to the river of sight and you can really understand
Red lights flashing through the window in the rain–can you hear the sirens moan
White cane lying in a gutter in the lane and you’re walking home alone . . .

My first panel:

blind-man-10312016

My second panel:

come-on-down-10312016

Using famous words in a comic-book sequence is not new. Roy Thomas, writer, and John Buscema, artist, did a page of THE AVENGERS after the archenemy Ultron was defeated and seemingly destroyed, but his head was missing, though presumed disintegrated. It wasn’t, it was on a junk heap. On the final page, panel by panel and line by line, “Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelley is quoted, while a black kid finds Ultron’s head; examines it; kicks it around; pulls on an earpiece and it goes ZZZZT!, which apparently deactivates Ultron; drops the head, and wanders off for something else to do while captioned by the last line “The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

One difference is that Shelley’s work was public domain. Marvel’s and Neil’s aren’t. So I’m an outlaw, but not for profit, and I hope the powers that be will be merciful.

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Medieval to Modern & tin to iridium
Evolvement takes choices & acts to ignite
Perhaps Good & Evil are more than a construct
Have KA to personify Desiderata
In meeting the challenge of Climb-To-the-Top
Some hands may be gript in an Evil one’s clutch
The pilgrim might Shake become timid let go
or grab at a chance for the conquest of fear

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I hope to finish this well, and well before the end of the month. I have read MR’s Life Is Too Short, and I’ve just heard about a documentary about elder abuse that features the sad story of his latter life, Last Will and Embezzlement. I think I will need to see the documentary to properly inform the page, since I’m going to draw a current-as-possible him above the “Rooney” on the right.

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I may well just sign this page and be done with it, but that’s because the task of summing up Loretta Young’s bizarre life is so intimidating. Did you know, O Reader, that she had Clark Gable’s child? I didn’t till just this week, though I saw her descend a staircase several times when I was a little kid.

The post is called “Mephisto, Mickey, and Sweet Loretta” because it sounded peppy and it reminded me of Neil Young’s “Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and Me.” The “Sweet Loretta” part owes its existence to a line in “Get Back” by the Beatles. (And Loretta Young was sweet sometimes…)