Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table

Black Dog

I’m having one of those days…you probably know what I mean and if not then the poem will explain it. I’d like to have found a picture of Black Shuck or some other similar devil dog but somehow I couldn’t summon up the energy to try. There is a joke in the final line, using a one word to mean two things at the same time… but it’s not terribly funny.

Black Dog

 

Hunt me down then,

Stalk me, track me,

Pin me down and corner me,

Pursue and torment me.

I’ll fear your shadow

Even in noonday sun;

Scrape of claw on stone,

Fetid breath, panting tongue.

The silent nights

When I wait to hear

The footsteps on the stair,

And know you’re there.

Black dog, you worry me.

by Viv

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January 9, 2009 Posted by | animals, Cafe Literati, literature, personal, psychology, Viv's Poetry, writing | , | 12 Comments

In Search of Miki…

I know, I am repeating myself: I just posted the same entry in my blog!
But somehow I wanted to share this funny thing with you here in Cafe Crem, and on the same occasion increase the probability to find Miki… and it is a way too to show you one of Kevin’s cartoons from his series “Kevin’s Komics Korner”. I hope he will post more with time passing by…

a-boy-and-a-girl-painting

a-boy-and-a-girl-painting-2

The internet is really a funny thing! The other day I received the following mail from Canada

“Hi there we came across some old canvass paintings of a young girl and boy. We are not a 100% sure if this is your work from many years ago, If there is a forward email address I can send you some picture’s.
Thank you so much for your help”

I didn’t think for one second that the paintings could be from me, but I was curious and asked to see the pictures. The man kindly sent them to me, and I must say that it was very strange and touching for me to see my name on these old paintings! Of course it has nothing to do with me, but still!…

It was by the way the second time in some months that somebody contacted me thinking I am some other Miki painter. The other one was an Italian painter, and he thought I might be a mate of his from many years ago… a Miki man!

The even funnier thing is that Kevin, about one year ago, drew from imagination the following cartoon of me

miki-with-ipod

which is extremely similar to the girl in the painting! What a curious world we’re living in!

Anyway: if by chance the author of these paintings comes to read this, or if anybody knows that Miki, please contact me… the man in Canada seems keen about it!

Thanks!

by Miki

January 9, 2009 Posted by | Art, Cafe L'Arte, friends, humor, internet, Kev Moore's Cartoons, life, painting | , , , , , , | 8 Comments

babyboomers

Kev in reflective mood backstage in Berlin....

Kev in reflective mood backstage in Berlin....

This entry originally appeared in my blog Mooremusic yesterday, but, as it involves a collaboration with our very own illustrious Cafe Cremer Susan, I wanted to put here in Cafe Crem, or more specifically, inaugurate our new music room here, the delightfully-named

Ca’ Puccini!

So, finally the day has arrived when my first completed song leaves The Indalo Cave! I’m pleased to say this one is credited thus: Music by Kev Moore, Words by Susan Cornelis and Kev Moore.

Following a post in Susan’s blog,  I was inspired to use an evocative paragraph she wrote as the springboard for a new song, and instantly wrote a “stream-of-consciousness” lyric to accompany it, with a view to using Susan’s words as the chorus. I set myself some limitations, in order to have the lyric “force ” the song structure. By that I mean, I wanted to make the fewest changes possible to the original text, and see where it took me. You can see in the lyrics below where I’ve changed or added pieces where it was absolutely necessary. All changes are in red, words I had to edit out are in brackets. The eagle-eared (?) among you may notice in the chorus I’ve replaced “to” with “and”, simply because it scans better when singing. I’ve also tried to sprinkle in a little 60’s imagery, chiefly with screaming crowds, Timothy Leary soundbites, and some eastern flavour on the fade. Initially, I had a completely different idea for the feel of the music. I was going to opt for a Steely Dan sort of vibe, but my renewed involvement with Christie inspired me to go more in the direction of the classic Christie Country rock feel. (Bob, apropos a discussion on your blog, the Steely idea is tucked away for later use!)  I’m very happy with this, the first song out of the new studio, and happy too, with the collaboration with our dear friend. Hope you like it Susan! And to the rest of you, I hope it gives an insight into how I (sometimes) work.  Just click on the title to hear the song.

babyboomers

Oh my! What would they say
To that Boomer in me, who is ever ready
To get up and go to take that magical mystery tour?
Mom and Grandma, want to come along?

It was the high sixties
Boy, was it hot that day
We slid through the decade
On a doobie and a prayer

Feelin our way
Throwin’ away the rules
Made up new ones as we went along
A whole new constitution in a poem and a song
Ohio, Vietnam,
The Electric Kool-Aid acid test
Ken Kesey’s Merry pranksters want to

(a hundred new ways for us to)
stick it to the man

Oh my! What would they say
To that Boomer in me, who is ever ready
To get up and go to take that magical mystery tour?
Mom and Grandma, want to come along?

I take those rose coloured glasses from the dresser by the door
Look back with fondness to the freak I was before
Am I the same?, hey you’d better believe it sister
Just older and wiser, if not a little bit bitter

But I hang on to that ethos like a drowning man a straw
Cruise in Janis’s Mercedes- Dance to Sly’s four on the floor
But hey Ray, I don’t need no J to recall our optimism from 40 years away
So I’ll pray so hard
Just wait and see
to whatever God you throw at me,
That all this peace and love will keep recurring throughout history
And all and all that’s meant to be will fall and be at one with me
The sense and sensitivity the flower child that’s within me
…remains
…remains

Oh my! What would they say
To that Boomer in me, who is ever ready
To get up and go to take that magical mystery tour?
Mom and Grandma, want to come along?

© Copyright Kev Moore and Susan Cornelis 2008

January 9, 2009 Posted by | Ca' Puccini, coffee, Entertainment, Kev Moore's Music, Music, Sound recording, writing | , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Ca’ Puccini

Following in the footsteps of Café Literati and Café L’Arte, we open now here, in Cafe Crem, our Music Studio  Ca’ Puccini (you get it? Capuccino…) , open to all actual and budding musicians from Café Crem, and starting NOW! This is a place where you can publish anything personal related to music (own music pieces, own songs, own song lyrics texts about music, etc… and not only Rock, please! ) and be sure that all will be viewed and commented upon with attention and respect.

Just one point: it must really be YOUR stuff!

January 9, 2009 Posted by | Ca' Puccini, men, Music, personal, women | Leave a comment

…. and then the phone rang.

ringing_telephone 

“ …. and then the phone rang”

You know, there are moments in my life when everything is trundling along how it should be, everything in its place, everyone carrying out their alotted role …. and then the phone rings ….

 .

You need, really, to know the geography of the lower level of our house for this one …. imagine three rooms … on the right is one big room (utility/computers), on the left are two small rooms (bathroom and kitchen) … the phone is beside the computers.

 .

So … hubby is in the kitchen making dinner.  My son Matthew and I are in the bathroom, washing hands ready for dinner.  Jack – our extraordinarily huge black Greyhound – is in the utility room, laying on the carpet by the computers.  The washing machine is busy working away in the utility room, all three computers (yes, we’ve gone one each) are switched on and humming away, hubby has got music on in the kitchen … all of which is fine, except the phone rang.

In what was probably less than ten seconds, all hell broke loose.  Matthew ran towards the phone (don’t ask me why) and fell over Jack … who jumped up and panicked, because he always thinks it’s his fault, bless him, scooted towards the stairs by the kitchen doorway, causing hubby to fall over him as hubby ran towards the phone from the kitchen.  Meanwhile, I am picking Matthew up off the floor where he’s fallen between the two computer chairs.  Hubby reaches the phone just as the washing machine starts its VERY NOISY spin cycle.

I manage to complete a very athletic (for me!) move and hit the “off” switch on the washing machine, because I just know that hubby will not be able to hear himself think with that going on.  Hubby, meanwhile, is muttering about “pan of chips in kitchen” as he answers the phone.  Jack has run upstairs, making enough noise for a herd of elephants, I’m on my way to rescue the “pan of chips”. Matthew is wailing about his poor knee and hubby is trying to talk to the phone company about their complete inability to issue a correct bill for the television/phone/internet service.  At this point I realise that – inexplicably – Matthew is waving a can of Mr Sheen furniture polish around, looking like he has every intent on using it (where did he get it from?  Surely he didn’t have time to find it, inbetween washing hands and falling over dog?).  In a somewhat delayed reaction, hubby hits what he thinks is the “off” switch on the washing machine, except of course he’s turned it back on.  As I pass, I swoop upon the can of Mr Sheen and wrest it from the grasp of indignant son, finally reaching the kitchen to discover that “pan of chips” is indeed as described … a frying pan with chips sizzling in hot oil. This is a complete nightmare for me – I just don’t do that, its too scary!  If anybody wants me to cook chips in our house, its an oven job!.  I realise that the chips are done, so turn off the gas and start fishing them out before they turn into something you could use to nail a fence together, when the washing machine starts spinning again!  Huh?? In confusion, knowing that I’d switched it off earlier, I dash out and switch it back off again – and dash back to the kitchen, where I throw everything that hubby had just taken out of the oven back into the oven again.

Bedlam.

I think the phone company has got our house bugged and knew the very worst time to ring.  They had to.  That couldn’t all have been coincidence.  Could it?

 

Jenny

 

January 9, 2009 Posted by | animals, Cafe Literati, Entertainment, family, food, friends, fun, humor, Jenny's Stories, life, men, personal, random, Sound recording, women, writing | , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Love (2)

I wrote the following poem when a friend of mine was struggling with feelings that were at the time utterly unwelcome; I think we’ve probably all been there….

 

Love (2)

 

Falling in love is much like falling sick:

It wasn’t part of the original plan.

There’s never a right time for it,

But when it happens, there comes

A terrible sense of inevitability,

A point when you can’t put it off

For a single second longer

And you succumb wholeheartedly.

It sometimes sneaks up uninvited

Like a stealthy summer cold.

You kid yourself it’s just pollen

That makes eyes and nose run:

The ache you feel is just overwork,

The heat in your veins merely

A reflection of the searing sun

And the shivers that shake you

Are geese parading over your grave.

But as the symptoms grow

So too does the unwelcome news

That there is nothing you can do

And it must run its true course.

Sometimes you recover, wake

To find the signs have vanished

Much like the glistening morning dew

As the sun warms the new day.

A faint uneasy memory remains

And you bless your luck at escaping,

Getting off so lightly this time.

Other times you toss and turn,

Boil and burn for years on end,

Find no relief, no end, no cure.

You get used to it finally,

Grow to enjoy the constant fever.

You won’t die of this disease,

But at times you might wish to.

Falling in love is much like falling ill,

But it is part of someone’s plan.

It’s timing is never our own,

And what we learn from it

Is both its gift and its curse.

 

by Viv

January 9, 2009 Posted by | Cafe Literati, friends, fun, life, love, personal, poetry, Valentines, Viv's Poetry, writing | , , , , | 5 Comments