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Re: taping
it was probably only thirty seconds long. the happy clapping and whistles
and cheers. the guitars introducing. and a string of aggressive vocals.
the brief blip of sound conjured the image of strangers, crowded around the
stage, in the dark. the vase of roses, the sunflower lamp. a woman with
her back to the audience, swaying her hips.
you know--those Canadians Linford keeps referring to.
I'd taped the Cowboy Junkies show in efforts to capture a sound photograph
of sorts. my friend Melvis couldn't come to the show, due to exams. I felt
rather guilty, after causing her addiction that she'd miss witnessing Over
the Rhine.
the tragedy would be that I taped over all but that blip with another of my
illegal exploits. (such a scoundrel, I am.) didn't think the show taped.
wailed and lamented at my discovery, for aye, the sound was rather pretty,
since I was moth-like next to the amps.
and many of my friends trade compliations of Over the Rhine. they've made
it a lovely gesture among the penny toting college folk. I know the tapes
are treasured.
it makes me wonder. I know many of them adore Over the Rhine as much as
some of you, despite the little financial support they offer. and I wonder
about the value of money, versus understanding and admiration from the
patrons.
of course, I am one to talk. I've made $5 off a sketch, $30 for a painting
(the bloke still complains I overcharged)...this is it, despite my bills and
needs. wonder what'd it be like to pay them with paintings. wonder if I'd
feel like a whore...
okay, it's late little girl, and you're forgetting to add some words or
something. go to bed. yes. bed. yours. now. you'll have time to
chatter in the morning.
g'nightly.
lynz.
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