forgotten clay
snake, pastime paradise, original
I found myself remembering the very first clay piece I made in high school art class. It was a simple tale. The snake rolled and coiled perfectly stacked in a pyramid with scales so finely carved over every inch of the coiled body of the snake. At the very top of the pyramid was a red, deep red apple, tucked right beneath the chin of the snake’s mouth, open, hisssing.
It was lost in the basement of the old house. Wish it hadn’t gone to art heaven. I was so pleased with it when I had finished. It was my first real attempt at creating something that gave me satisfaction in the purity of its message. Remembering it made me think of Stevie Wonder's Pastime Paradise, "temptation, frustration, contemplations, race relations--been spending all our lives living in past time paradise." Those are the lyrics that come to mind right now. No syntax.
I wrote a song about good and evil in 1997. Poppy, unsophisticated, escapist, but I loved singing it. Original © 1997. The lyrics were
Verse 1
If we traveled back to Eden for 6 days & seven nights,
And I picked you an apple would you still take the first bite?
If we go down to the Pacific to live in sandcastles on the shore,
Would we let the evening tide rise and drag us to the ocean floor?
And you say, and you say, and you say, and you say...
Chorus
let's do something original
let's do something real
forget the past I don't wanna know
always a new way to show you how I feel
Verse 2
I wish that I were Picasso. I’d paint you everyday
My one and only obsession to cover you with clay
And if I didn’t get to Heaven would you see me anyway?
Would you still write me love letters and pass them through the pearly white gates?
And you say, and you say, and you say, and you say...
Chorus
let's do something original
let's do something real
forget the past I don't wanna know
always a new way to show you how I feel
Bridge
One night I got so cold, you held me in my dreams.
You whispered that you’d love me forever just like I was your favorite ice cream
Verse 3
I am the message in the bottle. I am the whisper in the reeds.
You are the poisonous flower. Your thorny blossoms make me bleed.
You are the kiss before flying. You have no face in my dreams.
I wish that I could affect you. The same way your love affects me.
