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Kevin Slick: Journal

Playing For Change - October 24, 2008

I just watched the most uplifting and beautiful segment on Bill Moyers Journal on PBS. Here's the link so you can sing and hope along:

Leaf Kickin' - October 2, 2008

Yesterday Jamie and I took our first leaf kicking walk of autumn. I love that. What more do I need?

Do Your Part! - September 23, 2008

Okay, here's the assignment - Do your part to annoy Sarah Pallin... read a book! and if you really want to piss her off, think about it, maybe even talk about it with friends!
It occurs to me that nothing is more scary to the extreme right wing nuts than people thinking.
Think on!

Neo Pseudo on YouTube - July 7, 2008

For those of you who remember the band Neo Pseudo from those long ago days of the early 1990's in Philadelphia and New York you can see a nifty little video of the band on YouTube that was originally produced as a demo in 1993. The web address is:

Radical Acts - July 4, 2008

Today, for our nation's birthday, I'm wearing a shirt with a picture of the Constitution on the front. While I have nothing against red, white and blue I thought it was a better symbol to wear today. Our country was founded by people who were radicals in their day and if you go back and read the original documents would still be thought of as radical, possibly dangerous thinkers today. I'm wearing a shirt with the Constitution printed on the front which puts me at odds with the current administration who works daily to destroy that document. But rather than just saying I'm against the policies of the current (and thank God temporary) President I'd like to use the day to say what I support and the truths I hold to be self evident (to borrow a phrase from another document that could be re-read often)

Saint George - June 25, 2008

In my mind saints are not those guys in the Bible. Saints are those people who while on earth find ways to help us laugh at this world we live in. Saints point out how funny we are, they show us the beautiful, hilarious moments that are all around us. George Carlin was a saint if ever there was one. When I heard that he had died I said all seven words you can never say on television.
Thank you George Carlin.

Talking with Jamie - May 3, 2008

My son Jamie is quite a good reader so it was no surprise to see him looking at the front page of a newspaper in the recycling basket. The article listed many of things George Bush has done since being in office. "Wow" said Jamie, "He sure is bad, what does he do?"
I replied "He's President of the United States"
"How can he be so bad and still be in charge of the country?" Jamie asked.
What could I say?
"The good news" I told him, "Is that we get to vote this year for a new President"
"I know about voting" Jamie said, "In gym class we raise our hands for what game we want to play, voting is how you choose"
Let's hope we choose wisely this time.

Jamie's Good Idea - November 25, 2007

While driving in the car today we were listening to Christmas music. During "Do You Hear What I Hear?" by Bing Crosby Jamie asked "Why is he shouting?" "Well, he's singing pray for peace, and that's an important idea so he wants everyone to hear it" I said. "Do you mean, like we should throw away all the guns and weapons?" Jamie asked. "Yes, that's the idea" I replied. He was silent for a while in the back seat (a sure sign that some kind of good question or thought is on the way) "I think it would be better to recycle the guns and weapons because there's a lot of metal there that could be used for something good" said Jamie. "That's a good idea" I replied. It was, and it is.

Thanksgiving - November 14, 2007

I was watching my son outside the Quaker Meeting House here in Boulder where we attend. He was running and laughing and then twisting, falling and rolling in the leaves that still carpeted the ground. It was one of those autumn days where the slightest hint of chill drifts in the air along side the still bright sunshine. Standing there on the edge of the Rocky Mountains I had a thought that there's nothing more beautiful than this, no place I'd rather be. I thought "Oh yeah, it's the little things that count, I am grateful for life's little blessings" But then I thought, "No, there really is nothing little about this" Sunshine, laughter, rolling in leaves, running crazy across the yard with friends, these are the big things in life! And I am grateful and thankful.
I hope you find blessings surrounding you daily and your hearts glow with gratitude in this season of Thanksgiving.

Pride... - October 26, 2007

Reading the last journal entry reminds me of an old quote about pride. Let's see, it goeth before...the wall?, no, something small?, no, the mall? no that's not right. Oh well, the baseball season's not quite over yet, but I do hear a rather large woman warming up her vocal chords.

How 'bout them Rockies - October 14, 2007

Hope spring eternal, it's October in the Colorado and here on the front range I'm loving the Rockies. There's nothing like the sound of a baseball game on the radio, and oh yeah, we just keep winning...we may never loose again!

Re-Birthday Re-Visited - September 14, 2007

Many people have asked about the whole "Re-Birthday"thing so I thought a posting to that effect might be in order. I think it was a success, but what was it?
For me, it was about being myself and celebrating that. The best expression of that happened on the week of my birthday at the Boulder Theatre. I was standing in the front row for Patti Smith Group. During the song "Gloria" Patti was singing on her knees in front of the monitors about six inches away from me, when it came time for the final line she looked up at me and offered the mic for me to sing along with her on "Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine" Besides the fact that Patti Smith has been a mentor since I first heard that line as a teenager more than thirty years ago, it was the perfect line for stating who I am.
Coming from a fundamentalist background, it was and still is a statement of identity. It was also a perfect way to affirm that I am my own person, "My sins belong to me" as the song says. My goal has been to learn to read my own feelings and express them clearly. Singing that line at the concert was a perfect way to celebrate. Like another great poet said " I celebrate myself"

The Voice - September 7, 2007

Five year old Jamie in the backseat of the car while listening to Pavarotti on the CD player: "I don't know what he's saying but he sure sings loud and good!"

yes, indeed
The voice lives forever

Jerry - August 9, 2007

I first heard that Jerru Garcia had died on this day eleven years ago on the radio. Joan Baez was on the World Cafe program and she said she was going to sing "Amazing Grace" for our dear departed friend. I've heard that Jerry had a smile on his face when he was found and that's a wonderful way to think of an old friend. Just the other day I watched the excellent DVD "Downhill from Here" which features some of the most smiling joyous playing and singing ever captured on film. Do yourself a favor, get a copy and smile your face off with Jerry.

Re-Birthday - July 21, 2007

My birthday is coming up...August 13th to be exact. I've been working through a lot of stuff, going through a lot of changes, trying to get clear about my life and where I want it to go. I've decided to claim my birthday as my "re-birthday" The chance to create a new direction with clarity and passion. And so I invite you to join me - go ahead and have your own re-birth on August 13, 2007. Spread the word! it's "Re-birthday"

Friends - June 22, 2007

I'm writing this from Pittsburgh PA. At the Monster Bash Film Convention. My luggage and instruments have been delayed and I may not be able to perform my new film scores. The good news is that so many people have offered to help in anyway they can and so I'm reminded that friends are good, indeed friendship is the lifeblood of living.
Maybe not profound, but I'm grateful.

May Time - May 3, 2007

Well, the month of April is over, National Poetry Month. I didn't actually post a new piece of writing every day as I hoped to, but I did get quite a few pieces onto the web and overall I think it was worth it. I find I work better with an assignment, how about you?
As a way to finish out that project - one last piece (another one about baseball and families)

There were at least a thousand different moments that day
August 13th 1971, my thirteenth birthday.
It’s not the long line of baseball fans
on a hot afternoon
winding their way up the ramps
circling Three Rivers Stadium like a python preparing for dinner.
It’s not the grey concrete walkway
speckled and spattered with
chewing gum
cigarette butts
beer stains
and something that might have been food.
Not even the sudden rush of fans pushing together
as the clubhouse door swung open
and like baseball cards come to life,
two Pirates emerged to sign autographs.
It might have been the face
of Roberto Clemente
granite features
with blazing eyes that met my own for an eternal moment
but then
maybe not even that.
It was, however,
the feeling of my feet leaving the floor
and my father’s hands
as he lifted me above the crowd
and his voice
younger than I had ever heard
“There he is!, the great one!”
That was the moment.
That is the moment.

Stand - April 29, 2007

In the shadow of a pine
I rest my eyes,
rest my soul
inside you
where you may save my soul
like a treasure.

In the sparkle of light
in winter
like lace
draped upon pines
I wander
and follow the pattern
to the brilliant grey, white overhead
where the black ink branches fade
and disappear.

Stand for a moment
stand for a dreaming moment to feel the earth
to make the earth solid
beneath me
around me
to surround me.

moments - April 19, 2007

In this moment
a quiet word falls
from the edge of the sky
and what is beneath that sound
and what is inside the word
is something like
a picture of a flying bird
one moment
in eternity
one wave on the sea

Forever Wind - April 13, 2007

This bright wind,
that’s how it is.
This quick, cold air
yes, that’s how it is.
As if that small patch of trees
might grow out of my memories
and fill the world around me,
that’s how it is.
Pennsylvania brown, grey-green
thin winter branches
a universe in their arms
that’s the way
just like that.
And I would be forever
walking quietly through those woods
mysterious walker through the trees
where no one can hear me
as I am invisible
that’s how it is
yes, it’s just that way
as the bright wind weaves itself into
grey cloudy forests deep in the afternoon
as that bright grey wind follows me in the forever afternoon
and I find myself searching for this forever afternoon
in that stillness between day and night
In between time
when I practiced walking
quiet and invisible

Writing about baseball and family - April 12, 2007

The ink is fading
after years in the light
but it’s
still there
still visible
still “Mateo Alou”
ball point pen on baseball
and I am
still there
hanging onto the side of the team bus,
looking through the window
still there
my father holding me up for a better view
of my hero signing my birthday baseball
still there
in the brilliant August sunlight
never fading

Ashes - April 11, 2007

I looked outside my window
November sunrise
sharply painting the air
clear and bright.
The wind walks,
doesn’t run through the yard.
It opens and folds itself into the growing forest.
There are more leaves on the ground
than on the trees
and so that fluttering dance is rare
each one is spotlighted in the autumn air
a dried soul dance
riding the faint touch of wind
into eternity
joining the song of the earth
the slow dreaming song of decay
and merging
to melt into the ground
to spin inside the earth
speaking the language of ground
the dreaming of oceans
wrapping around the earth
and one leaf merging into the earth
one leaf
one earth
the same.
It was eighty five years ago today
that Joe Hill died
killed by his brothers
murdered by his country.
His ashes floated
on a slight autumn breeze
through most
every country
in the world
and every state in the union
save one
(Where no man should be found dead, said he)
One man
merging with the good earth
and sky of a thousand countries
of a million dreams
one earth
one man
the same
his words moving beyond the ashes of his used up form
growing, now planted
solid and slow
in the endless circle of life
born and reborn
one leaf, endless
one dream, slowly growing always
Joe Hill
planted on the wind
that covers the earth
His eyes looking back from a million fellow travelers.

After seeing Patti Smith in Philadelphia - April 10, 2007

Patti at the Troc 12/16

Winter warm air, rain that should be snow wanders along Arch Street gathering light and laying it across the pavement/ Slow breathing, vibrating air filling the cavern space. Gathering moving swirling, the air wraps a slow dance around a heartbeat.
Many hearts
one heartbeat.
Gathering darkness, look inside. Stillness erupts into life. Spirits called, spirits answer and gather themselves inside us, dancing to the heartbeat, slow enough to wander lonesome.
Lonesome cry, the blessed dust rising from ancient radios. One foot forward, balanced on the bridge, this bridge we cross tonight. Strong enough? Invisible bridge, crossing spirits, gathering passion, sonic harvest, the fields are heavy as wind brings release.
spirits, we shall live again!
Holy ghost sweating, breathing hard
call on those holy fighting ghosts
revolutionary dreamers
dancing barefoot to the slow rising wave
one wave
a million waves
rise and fall
night and day
and lovers gripped by slow burning, consuming lust, hot fire, sonic lust, the sound of life
the hot pulse of night passion
quick torrent
split second passion burn
Catch me now!
Take me now!
Look fast! A million brilliant stars calling home the storm
holding the hurricane in your arms
air surrounding
air inside us
moving us together
fountains rising
lightning storms from the desert flash the city
walking in the footsteps of revolution
The gospel ship sets sail
and we whirl and dance in our power
amazed at the visions
amazed at the power we create and share
and then,
breathe again
into the night
the warm December air, a million streetlights like stars

Thanksgiving - April 6, 2007

There is a slow thick sky today
a slow
dark grey light
on Thanksgiving morning
I came home to watch the silken sky
open around trees kept company by a few stubborn leaves, now rich brown like old leather. I came home for this slow moving daylight that will wait outside my window
quietly lighting the room with a grey light, a slow light, a dream light. And in that soft light I’ll take down books from the shelves and read words I’ve read a million times and want to read a million more. And in the evening the sharp black lines of trees will begin to sink into the sky as it looses it’s day color and fades away. The woods will be swallowed in steps too small to measure and the trees in the front yard will disappear and someone will say “Another day gone” and that’s why I came home, for another day.
For time passing
for slow thick skies
that move through branches on trees
I’ve seen a million times
and want to see a million more.

There Was A Sound - April 5, 2007

There was this sound
and I don’t know if you heard it
but it came from somewhere close by
and it sounded like the voice of a friend
and yet there was something new
and different
and strange
strange enough to make you stop
strange enough to make me stop
and listen
and the sound was awake
or perhaps the sound of awakening
and I don’t know if you heard it,
but I’m telling you this
because I want to remember
that sound
and I want breathe that sound
because my heartbeat has found a partner
in that sound.
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