Like 8 tracks and cassettes, CDs 💿
are almost obsolete technologies,
Just ask Sam the record man
Those shiny, silver discs once dazzled me
Or, if you’re more scientifically inclined - a semi conductor laser wrote and read music that
enticed my ears and affected my life.
That’s the magic of the mix cd.
Now, I’m left with a museum of mementos;
thousands of sparkling memories in the mixes of youth.
Unhelpful titles scrawled across
in my 13, 17, 21 year old handwriting,
Relics representing events and feelings of ‘the best days of our lives’- not!
Long since forgotten what the titles mean;
they used to mean the world.
Now, a total surprise and a complete mystery
you don’t solve until you slide that cd into the player...
Wait for her to load .....
and let loose all wild a n d f r e e.
On the open road, you suddenly give nod to the equivalent of a stuck record needle, or the crumbling mess of cassette tapes, or a streaming stuckness.
Going digital is the loss of the craft.
It doesn’t have that certain slant of light;
It’s just data and it’s invisible,
all up in a cloud somewhere.
With all the space in the world, you can add or delete songs on a whim.
We used to slave over our latest creation.
Couldn’t wait for all the appreciation
Everybody wang-ed, everybody chung-ed
Everybody had fun tonight
Finite selections - 80 minutes, 18 or 19, 20 songs max -
Gotta be selective,
You had to pick and choose
Keep a specific theme or mood
Order mattered - Let’s face it,
No one knew how to work the shuffle
on those awkward clunky Discmans anyway! -
You had to be certain.
Once burned, burned forever!
Never in the right case at the right time;
Chasing the perfect song,
Hunting for happiness and happy surprises.
That’s the magic of the mix cd.
(April 23, 2020)
In this life-mare without a care.
We’re stars in this epic of pandemic proportions;
An epidemic of anti-economical chaos,
lost lives and missed fortunes,
a surreal, real-life Dali,
ass imprints couch, jammies as allies.
Time melts mish mash minutes into disjointed days.
Dazzling colours fade into worn out greys.
Confusion hails, humanity fails.
So much for all the cautionary tales.
Respect essential superheroes in scrubs and uniforms;
they brave busy bus platforms in thunderstorms -
Life, as always, a fantastic master of pathetic fallacy,
I turn to another bottle to battle beastly doubts...
(Written: April 13/14, 2020, Edited April 25, 2020)
Because. Tool’s “Lateralus”....
hear me roar.
tendencies awaken in me
in these crazy times,
keep me sane,
explodes from within.
i’m a multipotentialite;
anything is possible.
from the universe
spiral back to the
Light My Fire
to amuse me.
Jim Morrison, You Touch Me, Baby
Mr Mojo Rising, the Lizard King
who could do anything,
Died, she cried.
When he was gone, she cried.
She still lives on Love Street.
Memories linger long on Love Street
as she drives in the moonlight.
Far from her hazy hippy self
an L.A. woman, now,
where people are strange.
She laments the end
with a feast of friends
in strange days.
Alive, she cries.
Today is a great day to create a great day.
This site is my attempt at gathering all of my creativity that I have strewn about out 'there'....
© Nicola Schneider, iCreate, 2000-present. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicola Schneider with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Everyday Art Every Day by Nicola Schneider is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at http://everydayarteveryday.weebly.com.
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