Namaya Update - Post Beatnik Cafe

Curious, writing continually, drawing, new design projects, but not a great interest in blogging these days. Not feeling as if I want to draw people into my creative journey except when it comes to the finished work. In the past month, I've been intensely working on Beatnik Cafe and discovering a lot of new dimensions to the work. I've been working with a good cast and a solid director Debra Whitfield. Post the 11 April show i went back and reworked the script based on some suggestions and feedback. A far more solid show in this incarnation with a more fluid time line. The characters not cutout figures but real flesh and blood folks ... Jack Kerouac as a genuine person who was innocent and naive, who loved jazz and life, and then drowned in fame. I was very pleased with my script and the show in Boston.

Creative projects in the next six months


Celebrate Life! Absurd & delightful - CD of stories, music, and poems.
Vermont My Home: Vol 1 Stories, music and poems that celebrate the Green Mountain state.
On the Island of Binga Bonga: Tio Namaya children's stories.This is already on my home co
Jazz Mu - Jazz Avante garde stories - Murder in the Cathedral of Love.
*** Not to sound maniX, but I have about six good CD length work that I've been struggling to figure out how to get the work out. I have so much material and stories

Beatnik Cafe
Shooting a studio quality video of this show. Also, seeing if there is a producer or promoter who wants to take this on. It really has turned into a very solid show.

Love Tap - Available at www.namayaproductions.com - Appearing as an MP3 file for download and as an I-phone application. Positive messages, secular, focusing on celebrating life.

Four Prophets: Jesus, Mohamed, Moses and Satan meet in a public restroom. It is a play and installation project

$680 Billion Dollar Penis Project Wall Art that illustrated how much the US and other countries spend on the military.

Coming back to Vermont, guests at the end of the week, new assistant/ associate for the web and the projects. I need this quiet space to work and dream again.

minor chords
key of Q

screaming violet

iNdigo…

who was never one to suffer
the indignation

of a Question that
lingered
like
rain in a puddle.

Q
like a key to
a world in side

of the rarely
spoken

laughter of a relative
sixth

V
violent shades
of indigo

whispered like a
siren waiting dockside

for the sailors from
the sixth fleet.

the allurement of
love in the guise of
desire

vermillion cool
v bop – voutee mo’

Bach in a fugue
falling to a simple
gracious

f minor.

curious to wind up
in the room where
the F minor was
lounging in a peignoir

a slatternly
amorous amalgam

of Blues basted with
be bop thrilling
arpeggios and slow
roasted in the savory
stew of an unresolved

32 bar blues… E7
to A then a minor B
in the transcendent key

of desire.

When the Bird and I would
jam, him rifting in the seductive
shadows of heroin,
and I in the garden tending
lilacs and poppies, hearing rooms
imagined with the sweet ascension.

Was he talking to god?
Did he imagine god as a lover,
seen, but never held.

Peonies purple, lilac,
luscious
plump

a juicy ripe C brimming
delightful with the
possibility of redemption.

Cheery, bright without
any of the existential
angst of minor chords - -

fragmented shards of
atonal rifts…
Coltrane make rapturous
l
o
v
e
with the goddess of memory.

Memory

god and the divine

we draw sustenance
from.

Not poppies nor Lethe,
we are not absolved
by bathing in Styxs

memory
desire
love

a blues in
one
four
five

flat the seventh
and open the
soul to the
seventh house

love is the
transcendent
note

alpha
omega

and

key of Q

querulous
little bugger.

to give
to love
to surrender.

Quom.
Q
Kwa

Notes in
the key of Q.

Mi Amor

we’ve had a tempestuous
relationship over these years…

much love and tenderness,
intimacies unimagined.

our love and love making
voracious and savage…

passionate,
sotto voce,
much kindness.

voyages to the
inner sanctum of memory.

journeys to the
periphery of imagination.

mi amor,
mi poesia,
mi alma.