A man of few words

in actuality, I have not spoken to a live soul in 2 days. But on occasion, I will test out my “instrument” and today was able to sing 2 octaves.almost 2 octaves.

1 and 3/4 octaves in 2 days.

I’ve practiced along to Leonard Cohen’s “Waiting for the Miracle” and “Sisters of Mercy” and Dylan’s “Chimes of Freedom,” with the goal of working my way toward Marianne Faithfull’s “As Tears Go By.”

all of this silence compels me to wallow in nostalgia. back to one of the less proud moments of my life which happened after a Marianne Faithfull concert in Chicago. I think I went there by myself, but was eventually joined by a lesbian couple I knew from art school. after the concert, we were driving somewhere… probably a bar… and when we saw Marianne get in a cab, we decided to follow her in my honda civic… i recall my friends screaming at me to drive faster until we were close behind. We followed it all the way down LaSalle St. to the Ambassador East Hotel. And when she exited the cab, we opened the windows and yelled something like “we love you, Marianne!” I think she hurried her pace to the hotel entrance. We thought maybe she did not like us. We were embarrassed. But not as embarrassed as we are now.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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