Perhaps “client” denotes those for whom services are provided, while “customer” is the lower-rung term reserved for the retail industry. In our either/or culture, would you rather purchase goods or services? Experiences or objects?
Where things stand today with intermission
The planet seems to be away at one right now. Wherever there is noise and empty chairs there is one underway. The world is on recess — smoking, eating, jabbering, visiting the restroom en masse. The attendants are collecting tips in exchange for folded towels and mints. There is smoke everywhere as if in a lobby. Paper and plastic wrappers. People’s voices combine to create a din. Filler scenes as the curtains pull back.
When my cat is on my bed there is nothing left for her to attain. In her feline world, it is the pinnacle of places in which to rest and roam.
My bed is like New York City, where there is nowhere left to go. Meaning, anywhere else is a step down. So you just park yourself and enjoy the view — in this case, a skyline of book piles — some of them hefty tomes resting vertically like architectural showpieces.
My book on contemporary collage art can be the Flatiron Building, while certain stacks of literary paperbacks — built with the biggest on the bottom to the smallest on the top — evoke skyscrapers of note: Central Park Tower.; the Woolworth Building; 30 Rockefeller Plaza. Continue reading
For those who enjoy a good dose of baroque music, I’d like to recommend Gabrielli & Scarlatti: Complete Cello Works, by Guadalupe López-Íñiguez. It is quite exquisite…
If you’re into supporting women classical musicians like I am, then also check out the following:
- J.S. Bach: French Suites — Chopin: Mazurkas, by Alexandra Sostmann
- A Chopin Diary (Complete Nocturnes), by Claire Huangci
- Vivaldi: Complete Cello Sonatas, by Ophélie Gaillard
- The Baroque Harp, by Judy Loman
- The Genius of Salzedo, by Judy Loman
- Anything by pianist Yuja Wang
Are you gainfully or painfully employed?
A cow’s moo and the muffled grunt of Frankenstein’s monster (Karloff). Compare & contrast.
I am in my cocoon right now, complete with classical music (Chopin’s Mazurkas) coffee and Wayne Koestenbaum’s Pink Trance Notebooks, dudes. In a bubble I might instead be listening to Bach or Brahms and per chance reading Bukowski?
Thought in the back of my mind is … 2019 is just crazy tawk.
She had a cocktail in a plastic cup, and I remember her nose was a sort of red.
She wore a blue denim jacket at her house party and didn’t care.
The one thing I remember about her was her curls. I remember their frizziness, like if you washed a doll’s hair and just left it as is.
Her apartment floors had old linoleum, and the rooms were low-lit and looked comfortable. Everyone seemed to be happy.
She had an interest in me, and we both liked the Beatles’ White Album. We had discussed it at the student union. Continue reading
A girl in front of her house was doing hula hoop tricks today. She reminded me of a flapper — maybe Josephine Baker, the way she stared dead ahead and smiled — perhaps knowing she had it down and that she would beguile onlookers.
The hula hoop never stopped moving, regardless of where it wound up — seemingly precarious but staying put, like a plate on a stick in a vaudeville act. What kept it gyrating? It reminded me of those yo-yo tricks, where the yo-yo appeared motionless, like a hummingbird probing for pollen. Continue reading
Steam rose like pistol smoke from my double shot while I gazed at the Silver State horizon, musing to myself that this was the type of place where Clint Eastwood had had it out with many an unshaven buckaroo, adorned with his quintessential poncho, woven with the colors of coffee & cream. Continue reading